His Name Was Ronan

two

My first day at the café was uneventful, to say the least.

James was not lucky enough to get the opportunity to train me, and I was stuck with a rather unfortunate soul instead. My other coworker seemed like he'd rather be anywhere but at the café, training a newbie who couldn't help but burn herself on the pastry warmer.

The less than professional manager who had hired me on the spot, commenting on just how  adorable I was and how I would surely draw in more customers, had promised me three solid days a week at $15 an hour.

On only my third day of work, I had already managed to burn myself pretty badly, leaving a rough scab on my forearm. 

The countless pastries I had been eating certainly made up for the clumsiness that I could only attribute to never being allowed in the kitchen. As a settlement for the burn, I had been sent home with a thick slice of pumpkin bread, drizzled lightly with a white icing.

I wrapped the delectable treat in a pastry bag and headed back to my dorm, trekking through the overcast skies that brought a dull day upon us.

My class with Mr. Wilde had been postponed to later that night, and I was off of work just in time. I dutifully changed out of my simple work leggings and crewneck and replaced them with thick tights under a lacy mini skirt and a much cuter sweater. My hair remained slicked into a high ponytail with three braids extending out of my head. 

I felt cute, sure, but as Paige was attending a seminar, I had no other affirmation of that idea.

I had been especially feeling myself lately. My outfits always seemed better and my hair more put together, and part of my wondered if it had anything to do with my gloomy professor. 

Truth be told, I was craving another kiss.

Although I wasn't sure who from, I wanted my lips to touch another's just once more, so that I could say I had really experienced kissing. 

Nobody, not even Paige, knew of my encounter with Professor Wilde, and I intended on keeping it that way after his threats to me. I wasn't sure what exactly he would do to me if I told, but I'd rather not know. Men were evil, my mother had always ingrained in my head. And Mr. Wilde was certainly a man. I had seen it with my own eyes, after all.

People had asked about my experiences already, multiple times. There didn't really seem to be a concept of privacy when it came to college. I told them I hadn't done anything, which is why I wanted to kiss someone again. In a way, I longed to be able to gossip about the things I'd done the way the girls around me did, and not being on the receiving end of pitiful looks would be nice as well.

In the lecture hall, I took my seat quickly and pulled out my laptop to read up on the day's syllabus and notes. It was odd, however, when the time neared closer and closer to 8:00 pm, and nobody began to trickle in. The syllabus for the day had been emptied, and when I looked up from my device to see what was going on, I was met with the dark eyes of my professor.

"Charlotte." he stated simply, tilting his head more in confusion than his usual cloud of anger.

"Hello Mr. Wilde," I replied back. My mouth stayed slightly open as I gazed at him.

He shook his head, pretending to dust off the knees of his slacks as he stood up slowly from his desk.

"You know, I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize I was here."

"My apologies, Sir. I had sworn that the email said class would be resuming at 8:00, Friday evening." I frantically began to pull up my email, immediately clicking on the suspect.