The Lie

Of course the loss of my job was nothing compared to the loss of everything else.

I heard the man I’m replacing had been here forever, an old but brilliant man with a fondness for hitting on the students until it turned into full-on sexual harassment lawsuits. I’m pretty sure the only reason I got hired is because they wanted new blood, and my uncle Tommy is friends with the department chair, which reminds me I should get in touch with my cousin Keir who said he’d been in London for a few days. It would be nice to have someone to talk to other than Winter and Max, the bartender at the pub.

I take a deep breath outside the classroom door and then stride on in.

I nod at the students, walking over to my desk, throwing my briefcase on top, and taking out my notes. While they’re getting settled in their seats, I glance around at them. A few more people here than last week which is what I expected. In a class of twenty students, it’s easy to notice absences.

My eyes pause on a girl sitting in the middle. She’s staring at me curiously, and the moment I make eye contact with her, her brows raise as if in shock and she quickly looks down at her laptop. She looks strangely familiar, but I can’t exactly place her. I guess she kind of looks like every girl. Long dark hair that’s been fussed over with a curling iron, a big wide forehead, small eyes, thin lips. She’s cute but would be ultimately forgettable if it weren’t for the fact that she’s eyeing me like she knows me too.

I clear my throat, putting my focus on the rest of the class. “Good afternoon,” I tell them. “Hope you all got a chance to get started on Funny Faces of Celluloid over the weekend. Anyone catch a good film?”

There’s that bloody awful moment where the question hangs over the classroom and I’m afraid no one is going to answer. But one girl, with a red bob and a wide smile, raises her hand. I nod at her.

“The Phoenix cinema was playing a double header of The 39 Steps and The Lady Vanishes.”

I walk around the front of the desk, trying to keep my eyes on the redhead and not the girl who keeps gawking at me. “Some of Hitchcock’s earliest work, before he moved stateside. What did you think?”

The redhead beams at me, folding her hands on the desk. “I thought the attention to detail was a bit weak and the actors were stiff, particularly in The 39 Steps, but in terms of the cinematography, you could see where Hitchcock got his fondness for shadows and the use of the MacGuffin, as well as comedic timing.”

Clearly this girl is a go-getter. “Very true. And your name is?”

“Sandra,” she says.

“It’s a good observation, Sandra,” I tell her, offering her a smile as I lean back against my desk. “The Lady Vanishes in particular set the tone for Hitchcock’s future films by the use of witty dialogue. However, the film would still be considered a comedy thriller even without the one-liners or any dialogue at all. That’s when farce comes in, something we’ll be analyzing today as we watch Harold Lloyd in Safety First.”

Smooth segue, I tell myself, and start asking around the class if anyone has seen it. Surprisingly, a couple hands shoot up and I get them to introduce the film to the class while I go and hit up the computer until the movie is playing on the TV. All the while, I’m trying to place the mystery girl. It’s driving me a bit mad.

As Safety First starts and a few students start chuckling, I bring out the roster and start going over names. The girl with the big forehead wasn’t here last week, that’s for sure, and one of my TAs for my undergrad class never showed up either. I check my TAs and see them listed as Ben Holmes, Henry Waters, and Melissa King.

Casually I look back at the girl. She’s watching the film now. Maybe she just felt bad because she missed both my classes last week and thought I was going to call her on it.

That must be it. I try and let it drift away from my mind and start going over the next lecture as the movie plays.

When class is over, though, she’s the first one to burst up out of her chair and scurry out of the room like she has a fire lit under her arse.

Curious, I follow her out the door and into the hall, seeing her practically run down it, shaking her head and waving her arms at a girl at the end.

A tall girl with long honey blonde hair, who stands out among the passing people, like everyone else is a blur and she’s the only thing in focus.

Fair skin, full cheeks, eternally youthful.

And her eyes, those beautiful eyes that used to shine brighter than the stars.

Only now they aren’t shining.

They are locked with mine.

Fearful.

She’s convinced she’s gone mad.

But so have I.

Because how on earth could this be?

To so clearly see a ghost.

Natasha.

My student, Melissa—now I remember where I know her—grabs Natasha by the arm and whirls her away. For a moment our eye contact is broken, and I feel nothing but panic and the hollowness in my chest. I always wondered what I would do if I ever saw Natasha again, and now I’m standing in the middle of a busy hall and she’s here.