My Professor's Secret

21|

twenty one
260 days before wedding

Sleep was far from me tonight. Even the soft—oddly soothing snores huffing out of Taylor surrendered defeat as time maintained its swift schedule.

Him.

His steady pace while scanning the lecture hall, always taking two steps before glancing towards the sea of eager students desperately clinging to his words. The sentient tremble of his lips ostentatiously reciting stanzas of Edgar Allan Poe. Practicably indistinguishable to Poe himself. His apology reverberated along with that stupid impulsive need that compelled me to steal a kiss from him days earlier. It all devoured precious moments meant for the better half of my subconscious imagination.

Somewhere in between the visual playback of our conversation on the night that began it all in his apartment to watching the delight a steamy chocolate filled croissant from Hoa's filled him with, I dozed off. Though Taylor's routine attempt at silently preparing herself for classes confirmed the inability of more rest until night found it's way back again.

Instead of prolonging my hesitation to finally talk to Shaylynn, I brushed my teeth and headed to her dorm; slipping on Taylor's Mini Mouse slippers and her silky cream robe hanging on the back of the closet door. She wouldn't mind. Despite the brisk gawks of confusion in regards to my ensemble from zombified college co-ed's in the corridor, I made it to Lynn's door unscathed. It took four knocks until Lynn trotted to the front door, opening it with droopy eyes while tightening her cardigan around her body in a comforting squeeze before allowing me in. Clearly I'd been the thief of her dreams as well. She looked just as exhausted as I probably looked—slightly more if I were being honest.

"Hey. Good morning," she said, clearing the grogginess from her throat with a hard swallow. "I nearly forgot we were neighbors." Her tone was weak. Void of malicious intent, but coated in enough conviction to surface the guilt my negligence contributed to. Lynn's bare feet paddled across the floor in pursuit of her bed. Her room was cluttered in empty unbuilt cardboard boxes ready to be taped and loaded for departure.

One had already been assembled. Black block letters labeled it: Useless garbage. It sat ajar on the opposite end of the bed. Amongst whatever else she considered useless garbage was a brand new Winchester hoodie identical with ones Taylor and I had gotten during a sale to sport together. The plan was to wear them to the campus mixer tonight for an intimate Christmas Eve get together for students who couldn't afford the travel back home or decided to stay for the holidays. "Oh, that," she says once her gaze process my uncertainty. Lynn sighs, pulling the hoodie from the box with a long assessment of it then placing it delicately into her lap as if she's realized her mistake. "Felt pointless to keep since... since I'm officially no longer a student at W.U." A dusty shade of salmon brought the apples of her cheeks back to life.

Our eyes only met briefly during her attempt to decipher what reaction her words would bring. Sure I'd already heard it from Presley. But to hear it straight from Shaylynn's mouth stirred uneasiness in the pits of my vacant belly. Even I'd found myself wracking my own brain for a response to ease the growing pains undoubtedly festering in the mist of my unspoken words until all I could muster out was, "Why not throw it out after tonight's mixer? That way we can all get a picture together before you go."

Instantaneous puerile fell upon my requests. Lynn was dropping out of college due to years of improper mental maintenance and depression and the only concern I could manage involved an over priced hoodie and a stupid picture she'd likely chuck along with the other seemingly disposable items she deemed 'useless garbage.'

"Can't," she tells me. "My parents booked me a flight. For tonight. They'd rather me come before Christmas than to leave after and risk the resigning of the lease. Spent five hundred dollars on a four hour flight just to attest my arrival wouldn't impeach midnight," Lynn shrugs, glancing down at the hoodie. "You're right, though. I will keep it."