Between the desks

Chapter 19

Elizabeth's POV

The club pulsed with energy, vibrant lights and thumping bass creating an atmosphere that was intoxicating. Scarlett and I were living it up, reveling in the freedom that a night out provided. She was animated, recounting tales about her mother's latest escapades, her hands waving in the air as she gestured to emphasize her points. I found myself laughing along, happy to escape the heaviness that usually filled my days as a professor.

"...and then she told me she was thinking of adopting a cat! Can you imagine?" Scarlett exclaimed, her voice barely audible over the music.

I smiled, nodding along, but my attention was drawn to the crowd swirling around us. Amidst the chaos, I spotted a familiar figure at the bar. She was laughing, her hair catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal. For a brief moment, I felt a pull in my chest, but I quickly brushed it off. It was just a crowded club—nothing to dwell on.

But then, as Scarlett continued to talk about her mother's latest "life crisis," I stole another glance at the girl, and the realization hit me like a punch. Amren. My heart raced as I tried to focus on Scarlett's words, but my mind was elsewhere. What was she doing here?

"...and then she said, 'Scarlett, you're not in charge of my life!'" Scarlett laughed, but I barely registered the punchline. My eyes were locked on Amren, who seemed completely at ease, chatting animatedly with someone I didn't recognize.

Scarlett leaned in closer, her voice a mix of excitement and concern. "Liz, are you even listening?"

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, trying to shake off the distraction. But as I watched Amren, everything else faded away. My heart sank further as I noticed the way Amren leaned into the girl, the intimacy of their interaction. Then, in a moment that felt like slow motion, the girl kissed Amren, and my stomach twisted with an emotion I couldn't quite name.

I felt a surge of jealousy that caught me off guard. Why do I care? I wondered. I didn't want to feel this way about a student. Was this what they meant by romantic feelings? I barely knew what I was supposed to do with that thought.

In a moment of impulsive clarity, I signaled the bartender and ordered two shots, hoping the burn of alcohol would drown out the confusion swirling in my head. I knocked them back one after the other, the fiery liquid a desperate attempt to obliterate the knot in my stomach.

"Whoa there, Professor! Partying a little hard?" Scarlett teased as she watched me gulp down the shots. I managed a weak smile, trying to play it cool, but deep down, I knew I was in trouble.

After a while, Scarlett's gaze drifted, and I could sense her sudden shift in focus. "Oh my God, Liz! Is that Amren?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she pointed toward the bar.

I felt my heart race again. "Yeah, that's her," I replied, trying to keep my tone casual. "What about it?"

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, clearly reading between the lines. "You're really cool about this," she said, a teasing lilt to her voice, but her eyes showed concern. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am," I shot back a little too quickly, though the tightening in my chest suggested otherwise. I forced a laugh, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Just enjoying the night, right?"

"Right..." she said, but I could tell she wasn't convinced. The truth was, I was teetering on a precarious edge, caught between professionalism and something more personal, and it terrified me. Scarlett leaned closer, her expression softening.

"Liz, listen to me. You need to figure this out," she said quietly. "You don't want to get hurt."

I nodded, though a part of me felt hopeless. I knew deep down that I was in trouble. The more I watched Amren and that girl, the more I realized that this wasn't just a passing crush; it was something deeper, more complicated.

As the night stretched on, I kept glancing back at Amren, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. I was struggling to keep my head above water, but all I could do was try to enjoy the night and pretend that everything was fine. But the truth loomed overhead like a storm cloud, threatening to rain on my carefully curated freedom.