The Professor: AKA My Mom's Best Friend (GxG)

XII

*Warning: If you haven't already, please read the warning at the bottom of the description. There will be no more trigger warnings throughout this book*

*Lindsay's POV*

I skipped college classes again. 

Shannon was asleep, and I was in charge of caring for her as she had fallen ill again. 

Hours passed as I completed part of the assignment that was due in a weeks time. The house was almost silent, the pattering of me typing on my keyboard being the only sound echoing through the room. 

At lunchtime, I decided to check in on Shannon. I knocked softly on her bedroom door, and after waiting several seconds without a reply, I crept in. Shannon was curled in a ball underneath her duvet, eyes open, staring at the wall, seemingly in a daze. 

"Shannon?" I whispered, "Would you like some lunch?"

I received no response, so stepped further into the room, where I was able to kneel down beside her. I looked into her eyes and asked her again, but to no avail. For a moment, I theorised that she was sleeping with her eyes open, but decided against that theory as she would blink periodically, as if awake. 

It was as if she couldn't see me. Her eyes bored through my soul. Her daze was so intense that she was almost lost to the world. 

Was she ignoring me? Had I done something wrong? 

I decided to try and make Shannon feel better again, and last time, a pornographic magazine was the answer. I quickly retrieved a magazine that I had in my desk drawer, and sat on the floor beside the bed. 

"Let's flick straight to the good stuff, alright?" I giggled, flipping to a page near the centrefold. 

I was definitely enjoying myself, and glanced over at Shannon to gauge her reaction. There was absolutely no reaction, and I was unable to tell if Shannon had actually noticed the magazine. Something wasn't right. 

"Okay, Shannon. I'm going to get you some lunch and a cup of coffee, and then I'll let you eat it in private for a while. I'll be back in a second," I whispered.

I spent almost twenty minutes preparing Shannon a hearty chicken noodle soup, and poured a cup of her favourite coffee blend. I arrived back into her room and placed the bowl and mug on her bedside table. 

"I'll just leave it here," I whispered, waiting for a response, but received nothing, "I'll be back shortly."

I closed the door behind me, leaning back on it slightly. 

My thoughts were racing. Did I say the wrong thing? Did I make her uncomfortable in some way? Does she just not like me?

I decided to let Shannon eat in peace, and went for a short walk to clear my head. The streets were quieter than usual, with most people either at school or work for the day. I enjoyed the rare serenity. The shining sun, the blossoming trees, and the isolation. I took about an hour to walk through the park and back home, not wanting to return. 

Entering the house, all the outside noise was blocked out, and I was plunged back into silence. 

I went to retrieve the dishes from Shannon's room, expecting her to have finished her meal. When I entered, I was flooded with conflicting feelings. The bowl laid untouched beside the mug which was also in the exact spot I had left it over an hour ago. 

I felt slightly annoyed. Annoyed that I had put in all that effort, yet she hadn't even attempted to eat or drink anything. However, that all but faded when I looked at Shannon. She was in the exact same spot as she had been the whole day. It had been over 6 hours, yet she hadn't moved, nor acknowledged anyone. She just stared, straight towards the wall, like a lifeless statue. Something was very wrong. 

"Do you need some medicine? Painkillers?" I queried. 

I did not receive a response. 

I went in search for something to make Shannon feel better, assuming that Mom would have left it close, as Shannon could need it throughout the day. There was nothing sitting on top of the wardrobe, or the nightstands. I pulled open the drawer in the bedside table and spotted a pill bottle. 

Pulling it out, it didn't look like a regular pill bottle. Instead, it looked more like the bottles you received with a prescription. I read the label plastered on the side of the bottle.

"What's Zoloft?" I mumbled to myself, flipping the bottle over so I could read if it was the medicine that Shannon should be taking to get better. 

"Zoloft: a drug in the SSRI's group, is commonly used to treat major depression," I read aloud, my eyes widening at each word. 

I looked over at Shannon, as tears drained from her eyes. I didn't know what to do. She was still statue-like, crying yet not really crying. I put the pill bottle down and sat beside her on the bed. I did exactly what Mom had taught me to do if someone was sad:

I gave her a hug.

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- T.J Starc