My Professor's Secret

04|

four

When morning arrived the next day, Taylor was already gone. Her willpower and the amount of discipline it must've taken to wake up that early after indulging in as much alcohol as she had the night before was commendable. After barely making it back to the dorms last night, Shaylynn and I had to practically drag her into bed. I promised her breakfast as a thank you for taking on the extra responsibility of helping me with Taylor.

I'd expected the aftermath to feel lighter. Like going out, doing the cliché college thing, meant I'd wake up different.

Instead, everything from last night still clung to me — the smell of smoke woven into my hair, the image of Meghan's face switching the second she saw Christian, the way Taylor's laugh turned sharp when they drifted away without us.

It didn't take long after getting out of bed to ready myself for the day, and since Lynn and I were already heading toward the other side of campus, it made the perfect cover for showing up unannounced at my brother's dorm. I needed to pry more information out of him regarding his late-night escapades with my roommate's sister.

A little after eight o'clock, Shaylynn and I met at the elevators and ventured to the dining hall.

"So last night?" Lynn said, breaking the silence between us. Even though we'd been to a frat party together and practically nursed a drunk stranger to bed, we still didn't know much about each other to ease into a conversation. "Clearly Taylor enjoyed herself," she giggled lightly.

"Or was so miserable the only way to enjoy herself was drinking herself into it." It was partly true. "But honestly, if I had the tolerance for alcohol, I'd have done the same. Last night was... hm. Definitely an experience."

We dallied further along the sidewalk through campus, conversing about the party, which eventually prompted Lynn into revealing more about herself.

Loosely put, she was raised in a family where success meant everything. Her father worked as a criminal defense attorney well known for his track record of winning his cases, and her mother was a real estate agent for A-list celebrities.

She said it casually.

Too casually.

"My dad's one of those lawyers who never loses," she said with a small smile. "Which sounds impressive until you realize it just means he's never home. And when he is, he talks like he's still in court. Everything's an argument. Everything's a performance."

There was no bitterness in her tone. Just... fact.

"And my mom?" she continued. "She sells houses with gates so tall you can't even see the front door from the street. She'll send me pictures of kitchens like they're love letters. 'Look at this marble, baby.'" She laughed, but it thinned out before it reached her eyes. "I think she loves me. I just don't think she knows how to do it without attaching a price tag."

The breeze lifted a strand of her hair and she tucked it behind her ear, still smiling.

"I had a nanny," she added lightly. "Not just when I was little. Always. She packed my lunches. Came to my recitals. Knew how I took my tea when I was sick." A pause. "My parents came to the important things. The award ceremonies. The graduation pictures. The stuff that looked good framed."