Professor And The Feisty Human

It's Your Fault

Willow

More warmth envelops me when he places his arm around my shoulder, and I decide to pause my hate for him, and to continue with it later.

We get under his umbrella and hurry to the hotel across the street. When I get out of the shower, I find a white T-shirt of his on the bed and I try it on. It is big and comfortable.

He takes a single glance at me when I walk out of the bedroom, and immediately looks away, his focus on the TV, but his clenched fists doesn't escape my notice. It's either he's mad that I wore his T-shirt or he's preparing himself to do the job.

"I, I hope you don't mind."

He shakes his head.

Once we are seated on the couch, we order food, and later we order snacks while we watch a series about vampires in silence.

“How are you?” He glances at me.

“What do you mean, how am I? Do you want to ask me about Liam? You came to my place to talk about Liam, right? What's so important?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think Liam is worth our attention anymore.”

I look in his direction, and the more I try to figure out what’s going on or why he is following me around, the more I feel as if my brain is going to explode. He can’t possibly be sent by Lucy, he’s a professor, but how did he know that Liam and I were in the forest? Maybe he really is Lucy's brother and he cares about her.

“You have just lost your brother, and you had to leave your family behind to go back to campus,” he breaks the silence.

“I know, but I will be okay.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened.” His words sound authentic, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Thank you?”

“What’s limbicus?” he asks.

I stiffen. That word sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me. I wish I didn't have to hear it again.

“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole for even asking. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s okay!” I exhale. “It’s a modern drug, and it’s very famous. You wouldn’t know it, of course. Do you ever go to clubs?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No time.”

“I knew it.”

“You think I’m the most boring, most serious and horrible person in the world,” he says matter-of-factly.

I let out a dramatic gasp. “I would never think or say that about my favorite professor.”

His eyes are all lit up, and his lips twitch. “Do you mind telling me what I did for you to hate me? You can't possibly hate me because I responded to your email with 'lazy and entitled.'”

“You failed me."

“That’s it?”

“Wow!” I chuckle. “I know that’s not a surprise. You fail students all the time, you are like a sadist, and it makes you feel good or whatever. But you were extra brutal to me.”

“How?” he knits his eyebrows.

“You said my presentation sounded like something I put together 20 minutes before I had to be in the auditorium. You said that in an auditorium filled with students and professors. I dropped out to work at a retail store for a year.”

His lips twitch. “Why did you come back?”

I glare at him. “Are you not supposed to apologize?”

“No!” He shakes his head. “Why did you come back?”

“I wanted to help my brother. His cells stopped dividing,” I blink back the tears.

“Hey, it's okay,” he whispers. He almost reaches out to put his arm around me, but then he pulls back.

“And I also think I went back to probably spite you,” I sniffle.

He chuckles lightly. “You are Willow Gordon?”

“Yes.”

“But I was clear. I said you weren’t ready, and you needed...”

“You called me lazy,” I interject.

“Because you didn’t dig deeper into the research.”

“I was desperate. I wanted something that would help my brother as soon as possible. You could've been gentle, and no one said a word, because it’s you. Even other professors treat you like some superhuman.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t apologize for that. You needed to hear it. Otherwise, you weren’t going to be ready for the next steps. I saw a potential in you.”

“And here it is, that arrogance!” I groan. “I can’t stand you. I’m leaving.”

“You will do no such thing! Hate me all you want, but you are not going anywhere. You can stay in your room and sulk if that’s what you want.”

“See? This is one of the reasons why I didn’t want to come here. You and I will never really get along.” I get up with no idea where I’m going. This room is really warm, but I feel dramatic.

“Eat first,” he orders gently. “Please?”

I huff before sitting back down, trying to ensure that I pull my best annoyed face.

"My brother and I bonded over calling you a jerk, though. Good times." I smile, happy memories of Marcel flooding my mind.

"It was my pleasure," his grayish-blue eyes make his face light up.

"You villain!"

He chuckles.

We turn our attention back to the screen and silently watch the vampires.

“I have a crush on that guy,” I blurt out.

“Oh?” A ghost of a smile crosses his lips.

“I mean, not in real life. I like his character.” I feel my cheeks burning.

“I get it.” He chuckles, and I slightly punch his arm.

We refocus on the series, and I feel my eyes getting heavy.

“Goodnight, Willow,” I hear a distant whisper.

I open my eyes, realizing that I have been sleeping, with my head on his shoulder.

“Goodnight, psychic stalker,” I lift my head and find myself looking into his eyes.

We both sit still, as if the tiniest fragment of movement would ruin this moment. Without thinking, I close my eyes, and I move my lips towards his. He doesn’t move away, but I feel his hesitation as we kiss, until he places his hand on my back, pulling me closer to him. I try to convince myself to pull away, but my reasoning has flown out the window.

He pulls away first, taking deep breaths, while gazing at me.

The frown that I’m used to returns to his face. Am I that much of a bad kisser?

“We really shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs.

“I know, especially since I have a boyfriend,” I say mainly to prove that I don’t want him.

“You do?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes!”

“Who?”

“Liam is my boyfriend.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are we still calling him your boyfriend?”

“And here you go, being your charming self again,” I say sarcastically.

“Willow, Liam doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”

I glare at him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

I get up abruptly and head to the room, relieved that I almost hate him again.

The memory of the kiss keeps revisiting my mind, and then I see Liam’s glare in my dream. He gives me the same look that I experienced in the forest, and it's even more furious. I wake up with my heart pounding and the sheets soaked with sweat.

My phone rings, and my hands shake as I stare at Liam’s caller ID.

I decide to get back to him when my guilt has died down, but there’s nothing to feel guilty about. He is now married, and Professor Brown basically called me delusional for calling him my boyfriend.

When I get up, I take a shower with the intention of getting out of here before Professor Brown wakes up. Instead, I find a note from him in the living room about him catching his flight early. Great, we are both avoiding each other.

***********************

When I finally arrive at my apartment, I spend hours trying to sleep, but I feel so many emotions all at once that I just end up spending hours crying. Marcel is gone, my research for his cure has been for nothing, I’m going through a break-up, and my only remaining family hates me.

It doesn’t take long for me to find a dress in my closet that I can wear to a club. The short black bodycon dress is “sexy” according to Chloe, and it is one of the nicest things she has ever given me.

The THC club is midnight dark and illuminated by neon lights. People are dancing, there’s kissing, and there's smoke that is enough to fill the entire city. It makes me cough a little, but I need to drown my sorrows in alcohol and loud music. So I stay, and I look around for a place where I will have the possibility of not speaking to anyone.

I head to the bar, the staring eyes making me feel like a lamb in a lion’s den.

“Hi, baby girl. What do you drink?” A large man in a black T-shirt sits on my right as soon as I sit down.

I sigh. “I just wanted to be sad and alone,” I mumble.

“Baby girl?” He raises a single eyebrow.

“I drink Long Island,” I smile politely.

“We also got weed for you. It’s the best you’ll ever find.” Another guy appears on my left. He has curly chestnut hair, and he seems nice.

“Dude, you heard the lady. Give her what she wants and put it on my tab.” The black T-shirt says to the bartender.

“Coming right up, sir.”

“I will pay for my drink.” I give the bartender the $20 bill.

“I will be your weed supplier,” the curly guy says, delicately holding a fancy wrapped weed between his index and middle fingers.

I shake my head in response.

I try to ignore my two acquaintances, who are staring at me, while I take small sips of my cocktail.

“We also have limbicus,” the curly guy says.

“What?” I glare at him.

“Whoa! Sorry,” he raises his hands apologetically.

“You don’t take it?” the Black T-shirt asks.

“No,” my grip on the glass tightens.

“Let’s go sit in a more comfortable place. I’m in the VIP section.” The curly guy grins and points at the place that is separated from the normal club by glass doors.

“I’m fine here.” I hiss, and he holds his hands up again, showing his surrender. When they realize that I have no intention of entertaining them, they leave.

I continue drinking as my mom and sister’s words about my selfishness replay in my mind. I’ve always felt like the ugly duckling of the family, and I’ve watched my mom try but struggle to maintain a relationship with me.

My brother and sister were always her favorites, the most successful international models. She always said they were following in her footsteps, because she was once ‘the beauty of the year’ in high school.

The more I take sips of the drink, the happier and less anxious I become, until I feel different. This time, I feel like my head is carrying the entire planet, and I struggle to move. I just close my eyes while sitting on the barstool to stop my head from spinning, but it doesn’t stop.