My Professor's Secret

35|

thirty-five
trevor's pov

Once I'd woken from the unexpected slumber that overtook me the night before, the chair across the room was empty, and any sign of Alexandrea's previous visit had long since disappeared.

For a moment, I found myself staring at the vacant chair longer than necessary. Alex must've slipped out sometime after noticing I'd fallen asleep.

The realization shouldn't have disappointed me. It wasn't as though I expected her to spend the night sitting in an uncomfortable clinic chair watching me sleep. Yet the room felt noticeably different without her in it. Quieter.

Before I could dedicate any more thought to it, the nurse who'd treated my burn the previous day returned carrying a small plastic bag. Inside were antibiotics, bandages, and enough medicinal ointment to make it clear this wasn't going to heal anytime soon.

She examined the burn once more before carefully removing the bandages and applying a fresh layer of ointment. Even after the pain medication, the process wasn't pleasant.

According to her, I should consider myself fortunate. Had my arm remained in the fire a second longer, skin grafting would've likely been my only option.

It was difficult to feel fortunate while watching someone treat dead skin from my arm, but I understood her point.

Once she'd finished redressing the burn, she spent several minutes reviewing instructions I'd already heard twice before. Keep it clean. Keep it covered. Watch for infection. Avoid unnecessary strain.

Then she insisted I return for follow-up treatment. Several times. The appointments were scheduled before I had much say in the matter. Apparently, nearly setting yourself on fire earned that privilege. Before finally discharging me, she offered one final recommendation.

"Stay away from the grill for a while."

The smile she gave afterward suggested the pun had been intentional.

From there, I was released from the confines of the Health Center and left to figure out how I would get home.

That problem presented itself almost immediately.

My phone had remained dead since the night before, and after searching every pocket I had, I discovered Josh had neglected to grab my car keys.

The only set I found belonged to Hinkhouse. At first, I assumed I'd overlooked them. After checking again. And then a third time.

It became painfully obvious that my only option was walking back to the restaurant. Under different circumstances, the journey might've been tolerable.

Unfortunately, Wisconsin seemed determined to remind everyone it was still winter.

Snow drifted steadily from the sky while gusts of wind cut through every layer I wore. By the time Hinkhouse finally came into view, my face felt half frozen, and my arm had started protesting every movement.

Thankfully, the keys to the restaurant were exactly where I'd expected them to be. Unlocking the door proved considerably more difficult than anticipated.

Manipulating a key with a heavily bandaged arm was an exercise in patience I wasn't particularly interested in mastering. Eventually, the lock clicked. The restaurant greeted me with darkness and silence.