My Professor's Secret

45 |

forty-five

With our final classes coming to their bitter end until the next school year, Taylor and I woke up exponentially early the following morning to pack up our dorm. By the time noon arrives, we've successfully crammed all our belongings into tote bins and then head to the dining hall for lunch. Last night after my run-in with Professor Thronton, I was too on edge to talk to Taylor about it when I made it home and saw her laying across her bed. Mainly because my emotions were still on overdrive. Why did he need to make it more difficult than it would've been to initially confess his feelings for me before? Why did he all but say he was in love with me while also saying we needed to avoid each other?

My brain couldn't take the stress of trying to deduce what exactly he wanted—or perhaps didn't.

Telling her now seemed like such a bad time—but if not now, when? When she had to hear about it from her sister? I knew that would be worse, but I doubt Meghan would dare speak a word of this to her sister.  Taylor would always pick Trevor over her when it came to their estranged relationship. It's the reason she hadn't told her thus far. Her history of infidelity was the reason for that. Not to mention how bad she would look being so concerned with his love life while being pregnant with another man's child.

Trying to fathom any of the shit happening in my life was, to say the least, stressful, and I'd silently been whispering phrases of gratitude under my breath as we approached the lunch line in pursuit of food. At least food wouldn't let me down. At least it hadn't yet when I needed something to immediately alleviate all my pent-up frustration and stress.

I load my tray with the choice of beef stew, mashed potatoes, and green beans—opting for a slice of strawberry cheesecake for dessert and a pack of celery sticks—before following Taylor to a vacant table in the hall. It isn't a second after we've made it to our seats that I begin devouring every shred of sustenance I could get. I'd already been operating on depleted strength from the strenuous effort it took to pack up my dorm and with the play happening in a mere seven hours, there wasn't much time to replenish what was lost. Not only did I have to worry about the additional duties the stage director position required, but my time was also already cut short since I wanted to run through my lines in full at least once more before show time.

Apart from all of that, I was trembling with anxiety thinking about how the next interaction might go with Trevor once we saw each other again tonight. I couldn't help replaying the scene of our last encounter over and over in my head. The way his scent wrapped me in a blanket as he stood so close to me. Our body heat radiated off each other as his minty breath sent a shiver down my spine. Fuck. I shove another spoonful of stew in my mouth and choke down the salvation of my illicit desires with it.

I'm halfway through my stew when I glance over to Taylor and her eyes fixated on me with amusement smeared over her face. Thankfully, she refrains from mentioning the way I've scarfed down my entire bowl of stew before she's even made a dent in her choice of turkey sub, peas, and an orange.

"So, I've been meaning to ask ... How's your dad?" Taylor questions, using her fork to move the peas on her plate in circles. "Is he still in the hospital?"

All I can manage was a nod. I couldn't be bothered to think about any of that right now. Not if I wanted the remainder of the day to go as planned. If I gave too much thought to it, I'd crumble and that's the last thing I needed. The last update my brother and I had gotten from Lorelei was nothing we hadn't heard a million times. He'd still been in a coma but the doctors remained optimistic about his recovery. It was redundant. Enough that it made me dread a single thought of him.