The Autumn Prince

47. Milestones

"Your coffee has arrived," I announced as I stepped through the open doors of the lab, holding out my humble offering. Instead of a greeting, I found Kelly spreading a cheap tablecloth over her desk accompanied by the rich, savory-sweet smells of Asian food. In the place of her customary business skirt and heels, she wore sneakers, jeans, and a long, flannel shirt, untucked. I almost didn't recognize her.

"What's all this?"

"We're celebrating an anniversary," She smiled over her shoulder. She was bent at the waist, smoothing out the plastic, and I had to force my eyes away from the contours of her hips. How had I been so blind to the fact that I had a hot teacher? I coughed to cover up the short circuit in my brain. Of course I hadn't noticed. Until recently, I couldn't afford to entertain those thoughts, and I had only made exceptions for dateable women. My professors were definitely not on that list.

"Who's anniversary?"

"Ours. One full week so far." She smirked when I failed to react. "I was trying to be funny. Clearly, I should abandon my dreams of a career in stand-up comedy." A rapid succession of concern and relief bounced around in my addled mind.

"Don't give up on it yet," I said. "I'm a tough crowd."

She laughed, "I'm a big girl, I can accept my failings."

I did my best to hide the war of attraction raging inside. I was inclined to blame my otherworldly genetics, or the horrors I'd recently witnessed, but having a legitimate excuse didn't solve the problem. I needed to get a grip on my growing interest in the female form.

"In all seriousness," she continued, blissfully unaware of my thoughts, "you mentioned that you've been neglecting a proper evening meal so I thought you might appreciate something slightly more nutritious than a ham sandwich."

"You really didn't have to do this."

"I know." Her mouth twisted into a wry grin. "But if you want me to be perfectly honest, I skipped lunch. I'm hungry, and I didn't want to feel awkward eating dinner in front of you. I hope you like Thai."

"Love it," I said graciously. In truth, I'd never had it before, but it smelled wonderful.

"Great," she said, evaluating her tablecloth with the telltale signs of an obsessive personality. "You can unpack the food. Grocery bag on the floor."

The meal was good, the company even better. The girls at Meridian were intelligent and engaging once you got to know them, including Becca, whose penetrating observations more than made up for her social awkwardness. But Kelly Barnes spoke my language. Even when we wandered off the subject of school or medicine, it was easy to relax into a natural, effortless discourse. I grew more confident that I could enlist her help in finding a mundane cure for a magical ailment. Of course, that meant I had to convince her magic was real. How would I even begin that conversation?

"What?" I said, only vaguely aware that she'd asked me a question.

"Favorite movie?"

"Oh, uh. Citizen Kane."

She smirked, "Liar."

"Excuse me?"

She grinned before committing to a forkful of curried noodles. "That's what people say when they want to impress you. Nobody actually enjoys that film."

"A few people must have," I protested, "Best screenplay and nine Academy Award nominations."

"Why do you know that?" she asked, unconvinced, "it was filmed in the forties. You don't strike me as a cinephile."

"I'm not, I just I like old movies. The modern stuff is too chaotic. My therapist used to make me recite trivia as a focusing exercise and I picked subjects I liked. What about you?"