Perhaps (Book 1) | ✔

ACT III - Scene 3

Professor Daniel Lee's Apartment

Nothing was said while Professor Lee led me to his car.

Nothing was said as he drove me back to his apartment.

I think I was still in shock that this had been his solution as to where I should stay tonight. I hadn't put up any protest when he had reached out to help me stand, or when I had followed him huddled beneath his umbrella back to his car. This was so unbelievable—more unbelievable than any other moment he and I had shared.

He lived in the really nice apartment complex that had recently been built a few blocks away from campus: on the second floor in apartment number E25. I stared at the stainless steel number on the door as he unlocked it, almost as if I were trying to memorize it for something.

I want to remember everything about this night.

The inside of his apartment was really nice: spotless and expensive-looking. Sleek, dark hardwood floors; leather furniture in the living room; stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. Robotically, I removed my filthy and soaked sneakers and socks, leaving them by the door, where they looked so out of place. My toes were blue.

"The bathroom is this way," he spoke softly to me as he motioned me forward. I followed silently, keenly aware of each and every wet footprint I left in my wake on his expensive floor. We walked down a short hall, and stopped at the first door on the right. At the end of the hallway, I caught sight of another door that was slightly ajar. Behind it was a bedroom, which must have been his. His bed was still unmade, the pillow bunched up at the head of the bed and the covers pushed down to the foot of it, as if he had just rolled out of it. "I'll grab you something to wear. After you warm up, we'll get your clothes washed." He opened the bathroom door and turned on the light, and I walked inside. "Be right back." He left me and I watched as he disappeared into his bedroom.

The bathroom was just as nice as the rest of the apartment; and my eyes took it in, memorizing it as I had memorized the number on the door. There was a porcelain-white sink on an espresso-brown vanity. The bathtub was separate from the shower, which was walk-in and tiled in marble like my parent's shower. There was a cabinet stuffed full of the fluffiest towels I had ever seen, and a small, separate room with a door housed the toilet. On the sink counter, there was one of those nice razors with all the different blades and bits and stuff, some shaving cream, a bottle of cologne, a comb on top of a small tub of hair mousse, and a single toothbrush in the toothbrush holder.

So he lives alone. I guess that means he doesn't have a girlfriend?

Why was I thinking about whether or not Professor Lee had a girlfriend? Did such things really matter right now? My entire life was in shambles, and here I was still obsessing over him as if he wasn't my teacher!

"They're obviously going to be a bit big on you, but here's some clothes of mine that you can put on." His voice dragged my eyes away from his toothbrush, and I watched as he laid a pile of folded clothes on the sink: a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt, a hoodie to wear over that, and a pair of socks for my feet. Had he noticed my toes? "Feel free to take a bath or a shower. Whichever you prefer." He flashed a smile at me, and my heart skipped. "I'll get started on some food while you're relaxing. Anything you have the stomach for right now?"

I wasn't really that hungry. I didn't feel like eating anything, if I was being honest; but he was trying to help me. He was trying to be nice to me. I couldn't turn him down.

"Um, some soup would be nice," I mumbled. His smile softened, and my heart beat faster.

"Soup it is, then. That's the perfect thing to warm you up, I think." He reached over and pulled the fluffiest towel from the towel rack, sitting it next to the clothes he had laid out for me. "Take your time. However long you need." He turned to leave, shutting the door behind him.