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 eventually faded as time kept moving forward without me.

Him.

His steady pace while scanning the lecture hall, always taking two steps before glancing toward the sea of eager students clinging to his words. The subtle tremble of his lips as he recited stanzas of Edgar Allan Poe—practically indistinguishable from the man himself. His apology echoed alongside that stupid, impulsive need that had compelled me to steal a kiss from him days earlier.

It all consumed moments meant for sleep.

Somewhere between replaying that night in his apartment and the way he'd lit up over a chocolate-filled croissant from Hoa's, I finally drifted off—only for Taylor's quiet routine of getting ready to pull me back out of it.

Instead of letting myself hesitate any longer, I brushed my teeth and headed to Shaylynn's dorm, slipping on Taylor's Minnie Mouse slippers and the silky cream robe hanging from the back of the closet door. She wouldn't mind.

Despite a few confused glances from half-awake co-eds in the hallway, I made it to Lynn's door unscathed.

It took four knocks before Lynn trotted to the 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 one who stole her sleep. She looked just as exhausted as I probably did—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 had created.

Lynn's bare feet padded across the floor in pursuit of her bed. Her room was cluttered with empty 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.

Among whatever else she considered useless garbage was a brand-new Winchester hoodie identical to the ones Taylor and I had gotten during a sale to wear 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 to travel home or chose to stay for the holidays.

"Oh, that," she said once her gaze caught my hesitation.

Lynn sighed, pulling the hoodie from the box and assessing it for a long moment before placing it delicately into her lap, as if she'd 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. I'd already heard it from Presley, but hearing it from Shaylynn stirred uneasiness in the pit of my stomach.

Even I found myself searching for a response to ease the growing tension until all I could manage was: "Why not throw it out after tonight's mixer?" I said. "That way we can all get a picture together before you go."

The second it left my mouth, I regretted it.

She was leaving because she didn't think she could survive here—and I was talking about a hoodie and a picture she'd likely toss in with everything else she deemed useless garbage.