"There's no way that it's not going there."
Whose to say moving across the country for a job and a best friend is a stupid decision? Oh, right, everyone she knew back home.
But where he was, that just had to be home. She just wasn't sure if she'd e...
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"That is all we have for today's agenda," Blair projected her voice through the small classroom she had been teaching in for the day for her Intro to Creative Writing workshop class, pushing her glasses further up on her nose. "Please read chapter seven of our Method and Madness textbook as well as do the exercise at the end of the chapter, we will be discussing those at our next session. And don't forget next week we will be workshopping a new short story manuscript, so get started on those drafts if you haven't."
Students began to file out of the room at the same time her phone goes off. "I'm being fought over. Well, more the idea of me."
She chuckled at the no context Jackson had given her in his text. The idea of him? It wouldn't exactly be the first time Jackson was being fought over. The man was prom king four years in a row, for crying out loud. How did he manage to even win prom king as a freshman and sophomore? She did, however, win prom queen senior year, but she was pretty sure it was just because of her association with him.
She chuckled, typing back, "Who exactly is fighting over you? A group of nurses? Interns? Patients? Hungry hyenas?" then another text, "What exactly is the idea of Jackson Avery?"
Now she was thinking about prom. She wore a beautiful sunset-y a-line prom dress that made her feel like a princess. The bodice was a dark red and shaped like a heart with off the shoulder sleeves, which honestly just made her bust more accentuated, so she spent half the night pulling it up as it slipped down. Her skirt puffed out at her waist, flowing into a gradient of the dark red into a crimson orange.
Catherine Avery had the dressed hemmed and fitted to Blair's exact size and had the seamstress make Jackson's tie out of the excess fabric.
If Harper Avery didn't think she was good enough for Jackson, Catherine loved her enough for the both of them.
"Professor Macaspac?"
Her head snapped up from her phone to see one of her students, Haley, standing in front of her. Blair put her phone back down on the desk, sending the girl a smile as she waited for whatever it was she needed.
"I was wondering if you had a few moments for me to pick your brain, I have work during your office hours, but I have a few questions," Haley told her, fumbling with the straps of her bag.
"Okay, sure, what's up?" Blair put her hands in her pocket—a nervous tendency of hers. Despite being the professor, a part of her still felt so young, so much like she still lacked authority. Was it crazy to say that sometimes her students intimidated her?
"First, I want to say that I've read your short story Born to Chase Sunsets that was published in AGNI a few years ago, the modular style it takes and how it spans in and out of all these precious moments between Briar and Jonah as they grew up together—absolutely amazing. We see how they drift away and back, but it's like instead of growing apart, they grow around one another. Your prose flows like poetry," the girl gushed, using her hands enthusiastically.
