The Enigma [18+]

one

feet don't fail me now
take me to the finish line

August 25, 2003
|myra dalton|

Myra Dalton sat in the third row beside the window. It was purely strategic. The light filtering through the wall made of glass would mask the glare of her T-Mobile Sidekick, which she conveniently kept under her thigh at all times.

Just in case.

She withdrew her notebook with a yawn, wishing that she had gotten over her late-night nerves before the first day of class. The twenty-year-old just couldn't seem to close her eyes, gnawing at the skin around her nails while she stared at the shadows of trees on the ceiling.

It's why she planned to catch up on the hours of sleep that she missed when she returned to her dorm.

Thankfully, Myra had a familiar face in the room who understood her disheveled state of mind.

"I heard he's the worst," Quincy grimaced, taking a sip of his dollar coffee. His nose scrunched up with disgust, and he offered the bitter drink to her. "Try it. It's horrid."

She declined it with a nod, deciding it would be best not to upset her queasy stomach any further.

"It's cheap coffee. What did you expect it to taste like, Quince?" Myra chastised. "And, stop relying on Rate My Professor. It isn't always accurate."

"Romano isn't even on Rate My Professor! My cousin's friend's girlfriend took his class, and apparently, he never gives out an A to anyone. The poor girl ruined her GPA!"

"Hearsay. I'm sure we'll be-"

At exactly 8:00 A.M., the white door opened with a loud burst. Myra turned her attention to the front of the classroom, and she soaked in the older gentleman's features: His clean-shaven face, the wavy black hair on top of his head, and his well-rounded jaw. He looked tense, gritting his teeth when he reached the podium. The skin under his eyes was a light shade of purple, and there was a solemn look plastered across his face.

The college senior couldn't help but allow her intrigued stare to linger. She was subdued by the confident, gray-eyed man who collected himself at the front of the lecture hall.

Dominic Romano.

Of course, she wasn't the only one watching. Everyone was captured by him almost immediately. His icy glare danced cautiously over the room of undergraduates, and he rolled the sleeves of his white button-down shirt up to his elbow. The quiet chatter continued, and most of it had to do with the fact that Professor Romano was an enigma.

A puzzling piece that would remain unsolved for the entirety of the semester.

Myra couldn't help but silently agree, observing him with pure curiosity as he moved with grace. No one knew a thing about him, only that he was a complete nightmare. He was hollow. Robotic.

Quincy nudged her with a knowing grin. "At least he's hot... Class just got a bit more interesting."

The photos that she had seen around the campus did not do him any justice, Myra thought. Much to her delight, Professor Romano's muscles strained against his clothes' fabric, and Quincy feigned a swoon. Before Myra could return a comment, their teacher slammed his brown briefcase onto the lonely table by the podium.