My Professor's Secret

10|

ten

Clothing always seemed to be in short supply whenever there was somewhere that required effort into your appearance. Half of the clothes I did have were either sprawled across the bed or crumpled in a pile of rejects on the floor. Nothing seemed to fit the occasion of hanging out with your teacher after hours.

Maybe I had been giving too much thought to the way I showed up at his house. Nothing would look worse than showing up in pajamas, but every time an outfit seemed like the one, it somehow wasn't. The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the entire situation began to feel. I wasn't getting ready for a date. I wasn't even getting ready to go out with friends.

I was getting ready to go to my professor's house.

That realization alone should have been enough to make me change my mind.

For a moment I stood there staring at the disaster I had created in the middle of the room, wondering if it would be easier to send a quick text saying I had changed my mind. Trevor would probably understand. In fact, a small part of me suspected he had expected me to cancel from the moment he sent the message.

But I had already said yes.

Five minutes of staring at my closet later, the answer became painfully obvious. A pair of jeans and a T-shirt was the only outfit I had enough energy left to commit to. It was simple, neutral, and most importantly it didn't look like I had tried too hard.

Which, considering the circumstances, felt like the safest option.

I had just finished brushing half of my hair back into a ponytail when a soft knock broke my concentration.

Despite my earlier objections to Taylor before she left, Shaylynn was standing at the door when I opened it.

"Taylor texted me," she said immediately, raising both arms in defense before I even had the chance to ask why she was there. "She wanted me to stop you from going to the library for the fiftieth time today. Her words, not mine."

Lynn pushed past me and stepped into the dorm like she belonged there.

Her face scrunched the moment she spotted the chaotic piles of clothing scattered across the bed and floor. She didn't comment on the mess, but she cleared a small space on the bed before sitting down.

"Tell Taylor I said nice try," I said, grabbing my phone from the desk. "I was actually on my way out right now."

If there was one thing that never failed about Lynn, it was her sense of style.

For someone who had supposedly come to stop me from making another trip to the library, her outfit clearly had its own plans. She wore a white, skin-tight, long-sleeve turtleneck with knee-high stockings held up by a garter belt. Her black pleated miniskirt stopped just before the center of her thighs, and the glossy black heels on her feet looked impossible to walk in.

"Me too," she said with a smile as she removed the mini backpack from her shoulders. She pulled out a pair of flats and shoved her heels into the bag before setting it on the floor. I watched as she crossed one leg over the other while quickly typing a message on her phone.

"Figured we could rent bikes together and head our separate ways. I have a hot hookup tonight that I definitely don't want to be late for."