Mira’s hands curled into fists at her sides. Her knuckles went white. Her jaw was tight, her teeth clenched.

Bella stood behind her, feeling the frustration building in her chest like a pressure cooker about to blow. There was nothing they could do. The professor had made up her mind. The wall was too high and they did not have the tools to climb it.

But Mira did not move.

The professor looked up from her papers, her face twisting with annoyance at the firmness in Mira’s posture. Her pen stopped mid-stroke, hovering over a seating chart that looked more like a battlefield map. Her glasses caught the light, hiding her eyes for a moment but when she leaned forward, those eyes were blazing.

"Excuse me?" The professor’s voice was low at first, dangerous like the rumble before a storm. It was the kind of voice that made students shrink in their seats, that made hallways go quiet, that made people forget whatever they had been about to say.

Mira opened her mouth to respond, but the professor did not give her a chance.

"I said come back later!" The professor’s voice rose, sharp and cutting, echoing off the narrow walls of the small office. Books on the shelf seemed to tremble. Dust motes in the air scattered. "Did you not hear me the first time? Or the second time? Do I need to spell it out for you in simpler words? Should I write it on the board? Draw a diagram? What will it take for you to understand that I am busy?"

She slammed her hand on the desk.

The sound cracked through the room like a whip. The stack of papers jumped. A few sheets floated to the floor, including graded essays, permission slips, and a flyer for the annual day bake sale but she did not notice. Her face was red, her nostrils flared and her lips pressed into a thin, furious line.

"I am drowning in work!" Her voice boomed, filling every corner of the tiny office. "Do you understand that? Drowning! I have seating charts that need to be finalized. Do you know how many parents have requested special accommodations? Forty-seven! Forty-seven parents who want to sit in the front row, or near an exit, or away from the speakers, or next to their ex-husband’s new wife’s cousin!"

She gestured wildly at the mountains of paper covering her desk. "I have lighting plans that are still incomplete because the technician quit yesterday and the new one does not know how to operate our system. I have a stage that is not even fully built yet because the carpenter sprained his ankle and the replacement does not speak English. I have vendors who keep changing their prices at the last minute because they think we have unlimited funds, which, newsflash, we do not!"

Her voice cracked on the last word. She took a breath but it did not calm her. Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was vibrating with barely contained rage.

"Look at this!" she shouted, sweeping her arm across the desk. Papers scattered. A cup of cold coffee tipped over, spreading a brown stain across a stack of permission slips. She did not care. "Look at all of this! And you two come in here, interrupting me, demanding my attention, for something that can clearly wait until after the biggest event of the school year?"

Bella flinched. She had never seen the professor like this. Neither had Mira. The woman was always stern, always serious, and always a little scary but this was something else. This was a woman on the edge of a breakdown.

The professor stood up from her chair, her hands planted on the desk, leaning forward like she was about to climb over it. Her face was inches from Mira’s. Her breath was hot. Her eyes were wild.

"Annual day is in one week!" Her voice was so loud that students in the hallway stopped walking. Heads turned. Eyes stared through the open door. "One week! Do you have any idea how much work is left? Do you have any idea how many students have come to me this week with urgent problems that somehow magically disappeared when I told them to come back later?"

She did not wait for an answer. She did not want one.

"Your problem can wait!" Her voice boomed, echoing down the hallway, reaching the ears of students who had no business listening. "I said come back later! That means go! Leave! Get out of my office! I do not want to hear another word from either of you right now!"

Mira’s face went pale. Her lips trembled. Her hands, which had been fisted at her sides, loosened, then tightened, then loosened again. She looked like a leaf about to be blown away by a storm.

Bella’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest.

The professor pointed a shaking finger at the door. "Go! Now! Before I lose my temper even more!"

Bella grabbed Mira’s arm. They did not need to be told again.

They turned and walked out quickly, their footsteps hurried, their heads down. The professor’s door did not slam behind them but it might as well have. The silence that followed was somehow louder than her shouting.

The hallway felt endless. Students who had been walking past had stopped to stare. Some whispered behind their hands. Others just watched with curious, judgmental eyes. A girl with pink highlights smirked at them, elbowing her friend. A boy with a backpack shook his head slowly like he was disappointed in them for reasons he did not even know.

Bella’s cheeks burned. Mira’s eyes were wet but she did not cry. She just walked faster pulling Bella toward the stairs.

They did not speak until they reached the ground floor, until they pushed through the heavy glass doors and stepped outside into the afternoon sun. The warmth should have been comforting, but it was not. It just made Bella feel more exposed.

Mira stopped walking. Her shoulders shook. She pressed her hands to her face.

Bella stood beside her, not sure what to say or what to do. She wanted to comfort Mira, but her own heart was still racing, her own face still hot with embarrassment. She wanted to be angry at the professor, but some part of her understood. The woman was overworked and stressed.

Finally, Mira lowered her hands. Her eyes were red, but her jaw was set. Her glasses were crooked, and there were tear tracks on her cheeks, but she was not crying anymore.

"She did not even listen," Mira whispered. Her voice cracked. "She did not even let me explain."

Bella nodded slowly. "I know." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Mira looked at the ground, at the cracks in the pavement, at a lost earring that someone had dropped days ago. "What do we do now?"

Bella thought for a moment. The professor had made it clear she did not want to hear from them until after the annual day. But after the annual day, the presentation would be old news. Krystal would have gotten away with everything. The grades would be final.

"Now," Bella said quietly, "we wait."

Mira’s head snapped up. "Wait? For what?"

Bella’s eyes darkened. "For the right moment."

Mira searched her face, confused. "What moment?"

Bella did not answer. She just started walking toward the main campus. Mira followed, still confused.

After they left the office, the professor locked herself inside and started crying.