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Chapter 141

Stone cold
Stone cold
You see me standing
But I'm dying on the floor

— Demi Lovato, Stone Cold

. . . .

It's been a month since the one-sided attack on my professor. He hasn't brought it up since that day, most likely not wanting to add to the mortification that I felt for classes even beyond that day. He's a really nice guy and is quite lenient with us for a teacher at such a prestigious school. 

I'm relieved he stopped me after class that day and I told him that I was uncomfortable. If I hadn't, he could possibly be teasing me with it till this day. Everything had turned out fine—just like how Harry had assured it would.

That day after all my classes wrapped up, I went home and poured my day out to Harry on the phone. As usual, he consoled me and talked me through everything. He made me believe that it would all blow over and there would be nothing to worry about. Once again, he turned out to be right.

Harry had been up once within the past month since Ron and Carol requested a weekend with Lilly. Harry and I got to spend some alone time together—mostly lounging around in bed for two days. It was some well-needed time together.

Plus, he finally got a proper introduction with Alec and Noel that didn't include me and Harry having sex and them walking in on it. We went to their apartment, and they introduced themselves to one another—it being slightly awkward considering the first interaction of Harry was in my bed with me on top of him. However, conversation was light after pushing past the uncomfortableness towards the beginning of the night. Everyone was joking around, and Harry bonded with their dog. The four of us ate dinner together then just sat around and talked for the night with a movie on in the background. When everyone started yawning and I was half asleep on Harry's shoulder, we decided to call it a night and go back to my apartment.

The day after, Harry and I stayed in bed all day—only getting out for food, bathroom breaks, and eventually to shower together. It was a carefree, laidback weekend that I wish was an every day occurrence. On Sunday, I watched him climb into his car and drive out of the parking lot to travel back home.

Now, I walk my normal route from my car to my first class of the day. As per usual, I'm early along with the three others that arrive at around the same time. We had an exam on Thursday, and we should be getting the results back today. I think I did just fine, and Dr. Spencer rest assured that the exam wouldn't be too challenging, but as an over-thinker, I studied a tad too much as I thought of all the possible topics that could have been covered on the test.

Garrett and Addison show up beside me, and moments later, Dr. Spencer shows up around the corner. His posture is a wreck, his hair left hanging and gel-less. The class before us clears out, and he cuts off everyone before us to go in first. I hear his briefcase thud against the desk along with other articles of his belongings as I mount the steps. He's standing in front of his desk, slumped forward with his arms supporting him upright against the desk. He's acting like he's sick.

Unlike every other class we've had, he doesn't start at the exact moment that the clock switches to ten, and he's not logging onto the computer to bring up the PowerPoint or beginning attendance.

He's just standing there.

"What's going on with him?" Addison leans over to me and whispers.

"No idea."

Several minutes after ten, he slowly walks to the podium and faces us. His face is red, the skin around his eyes is shiny under the bright fluorescents above. His blue eyes are bloodshot, it seems.