My Professor's Secret

05|

five

"I want you to leave this class and start on your story. Three months may sound like a lot of time, but time will fly by quicker than you think," Professor Thornton said, gathering the papers from his desk. "I'll see you all again next week. Come prepared because we'll be jumping straight into the basics, and you'll be given a pop quiz testing what you already know. Keep an eye out for emails regarding class updates or schedule changes. It's detrimental to your success in this class, and it's your responsibility starting today."

He paused only long enough to look around the room.

"Class dismissed."

Before anyone had the chance to ask questions, he was already halfway out the door.

I headed straight back toward the dorm before it could get any darker outside. Summer still lingered in the air, leaving behind a thin strip of daylight, but I knew it wouldn't last much longer. Walking across campus alone in the dark this early in the semester wasn't something I wanted to get used to.

When I arrived back at the dorm, Taylor was hanging upside down off the edge of her bed, her hair nearly brushing the floor. A wooden pencil was wedged between her teeth as if she were trying to chew through it. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and every few seconds an irritated hum slipped out of her.

I paused halfway inside the room.

"That bad?" I asked, letting the door fall shut behind me.

She jolted upright so quickly I thought she might slam her head into the wall. Her hair fell back into place as she smoothed it down with both hands, pretending she hadn't just been suspended in agony.

She tugged the pencil from her mouth and tossed it onto the bed.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said, trying to recover her composure. "The worst, actually. In the name of philanthropy, my sister has decided she wants to be a teacher assistant."

For a second I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Her jaw tightened slightly. "She's a teacher assistant for one of my classes. Apparently this campus is just too small for the both of us."

The irritation in her voice was obvious, but it didn't feel like my place to question it further despite the quiet urge to ask every possible question about Meghan's existence.

"And before you say it's just a coincidence," she added quickly, raising a finger as if cutting off an argument I hadn't even made, "I know she didn't plan it. I know she didn't sit around plotting how to inconvenience me. It just... figures."

I watched the way her shoulders shifted when she said that. The way she avoided looking directly at me.

It wasn't anger.

It was exhaustion. An emotion I'd grown familiar with myself when it came to my own brother in the short time I'd been here.

"It's been three days," she continued quietly. "Three. And somehow she's already in my syllabus."

A faint redness crept across her cheeks — something I never would've expected from someone like Taylor.

"And let's not pretend you didn't have to drag me upstairs last night after I got sloppy drunk at that stupid party," she muttered. "I'm still trying to forget that happened."

A smile tugged at my mouth despite myself.

"You weren't that bad."

She stared at me.