Call meBy Your Name
#lemon8challenge #lemon8badgehunt #reddit #apowellbooks
Janelle stared at the message longer than she wanted to admit.
“Lunch? My treat.”
Simple. Casual. Like nothing had happened.
Her thumb hovered over her phone, then pulled away. She locked the screen, set it down, then picked it right back up again. Her mind wouldn’t sit still.
Last night replayed in fragments she couldn’t fully piece together—his voice, the way he looked at her, how easy it all felt in the moment… and how complicated it felt now.
At school, she had walked right past him.
Didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even blink in his direction.
And he played his part just as well—focused, professional, like she was just another student in the room.
But this text?
This broke that illusion.
Janelle exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair. This is messy, she thought. Messier than she had planned for… if she had planned at all.
Her phone buzzed again.
“No pressure. Just thought I’d ask.”
She frowned slightly at that. He sounded… careful. Not pushy. Not entitled.
That made it worse.
Because now she had to actually think.
If she said yes, this didn’t stay a one-time mistake.
If she said no… she still had to sit in his class. Still had to see him every week like nothing happened.
Janelle ran a hand through her hair, frustrated.
“Why did I even—” she muttered under her breath, cutting herself off.
Her phone lit up again as she unlocked it. The message thread still open. Still waiting.
She typed:
“We probably shouldn’t.”
She stared at it.
Then erased it.
Typed again:
“Where?”
Paused.
Erased that too.
Her heart started beating faster, not because she didn’t know what she should do—but because she knew exactly how this could go.
And still…
Her fingers moved before her doubts could catch up.
“What time?”
She hit send.
Janelle sat there, staring at the screen as the message delivered.
A second later…
Those three little dots appeared.
And just like that—
She knew this wasn’t over.
Janelle lived a life that didn’t overlap with his—and that was part of the problem.
Nice apartment. Reliable money. Freedom to move how she wanted, answer to who she wanted… or not at all. Even the way she carried herself on campus—calm, untouched—made it clear she wasn’t pressed by the same things weighing him down.
Professor Blount noticed all of it.
Probably more than he should have.
Meanwhile, he was juggling too much for too little. Emails stacked up before he could even respond to the first one. Department meetings that felt more like interrogations. “Adjust your curriculum.” “Engage students more.” “Improve outcomes.” Like he wasn’t already stretching himself thin trying to hold the class together.
And the pay?
Didn’t match the pressure.
Didn’t match the expectations.
Didn’t match the way they hovered over him like he was one bad lecture away from being replaced.
By the time his break came around, he was already irritated—jaw tight, patience gone, tie slightly loosened like he needed room to breathe.
That’s when he texted her.
Not just because of last night.
But because of how easy it felt with her.
No expectations. No criticism. No one watching, correcting, evaluating.
Just quiet.
Control.
Release.
Blount leaned back in his chair, staring at his phone after sending the message, waiting longer than he expected to. Longer than he liked.
He wasn’t used to waiting.
Especially not on a student.
His fingers tapped lightly against the desk, a restless rhythm betraying the calm he tried to maintain.
Then—
Her message came through.
“What time?”
His eyes lingered on the screen, something unreadable crossing his face. Not quite a smile… but close.
Because now it wasn’t just stress anymore.
It was a choice.
And he made his quickly.
“1:30. Off campus.”
A pause.
Then another message:
“Somewhere quiet.”
Blount stood up from his desk, grabbing his keys, already knowing he wasn’t just stepping out for lunch.
He was stepping further into something that could cost him everything—
and not caring nearly as much as he should have.
The restaurant was quiet—dim lighting, low conversations, the kind of place where nobody paid attention unless you gave them a reason to.
Janelle sat across from him, composed as ever, like this wasn’t crossing any lines. Like this was normal.
Blount, on the other hand, couldn’t fully relax. Not because of her—but because of everything that came with her.
He glanced at her over the rim of his glass. “A penthouse?” he asked, almost casually—but there was weight behind it. “That’s not… typical student living.”
Janelle gave a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Depends on the student.”
He let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Yeah. I’m starting to see that.”
There was a pause while the waiter dropped off their drinks. Neither of them spoke until he walked away.
Blount leaned forward slightly. “So what is it you do, exactly?”
Janelle hesitated—not because she didn’t want to answer, but because she already knew what came with the answer.
“I’m… low-key a content creator,” she said, almost brushing it off. Then she added, “Yet everyone seems to know who I am.”
Blount studied her for a second longer than necessary.
“…Low-key?” he repeated, one brow lifting slightly.
She smirked just a little. “I don’t go around announcing it.”
“But people recognize you anyway.”
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
This one felt different.
Blount leaned back, connecting the dots in real time—the penthouse, her confidence, the way she carried herself, the fact that she wasn’t phased by anything.
“That’s why you don’t care,” he said quietly.
Janelle’s eyes flickered. “About what?”
“Consequences.”
Her expression tightened just a little. “That’s not true.”
He tilted his head. “Isn’t it?”
She sat back now, crossing one leg over the other, her tone sharpening just slightly. “I just don’t move like I’m scared of everything.”
Blount held her gaze. “Must be nice.”
That lingered between them longer than expected.
Because it wasn’t just a comment.
It was a difference.
A gap neither of them could ignore now.
Janelle tapped her nails lightly against the table, then looked at him again. “You think I don’t have anything to lose?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Didn’t look away either.
“…I think,” he said slowly, “whatever you’d lose… you could replace.”
That one hit.
Not because it was loud—but because it was honest.
Janelle let out a small breath, her confidence flickering for the first time. “You don’t know me like that.”
Blount’s voice dropped slightly. “I know enough to know this isn’t the same risk for both of us.”
Silence settled in again—but this time it was heavier.
More real.
Because now it wasn’t just about attraction or curiosity.
It was about what this actually was.
And what it could turn into.
Janelle leaned forward slightly, her voice quieter now. “Then why are you here?”
Blount didn’t hesitate this time.
“…Because I wanted to see you again.”
No deflection.
No professionalism.
Just the truth.
And somehow—
That made everything more dangerous.
The story captures a delicate and intricate moment where personal emotions meet professional boundaries, creating a compelling tension that's difficult to navigate. Janelle's hesitation and inner conflict remind me of situations where decisions weigh heavily because they blur the lines between personal desires and social consequences. It's fascinating how the author portrays the duality of appearances versus reality: Janelle's confident outward persona contrasts deeply with the vulnerability the situation reveals. From the professor’s perspective, there's the constant pressure of academic expectations and the threat of losing his position juxtaposed with his growing personal feelings. This dynamic sheds light on issues many face in hierarchical or structured environments where attraction or connection could risk professional reputations. What stands out in this encounter is the use of subtle communication — short texts like "Lunch? My treat." — that carry an emotional undertone far beyond their simplicity. It reminds me of how seemingly small messages can trigger large emotional responses, especially when relationships are complicated by social roles or past incidents. Additionally, the inclusion of Janelle’s role as a content creator adds another layer, introducing modern social realities such as the influence and recognition that can accompany an online presence. This element enriches the narrative by showing how fame or attention affects personal identity and confidence. If you've experienced moments where you had to wrestle with temptation, societal expectations, or fear of consequences, this story resonates strongly. It highlights the human side behind decisions and the courage required to confront them honestly. Overall, this narrative invites reflection on the cost of connection, the nature of risk, and the complexity of emotional honesty in fraught circumstances.
