Professor C (camren)

3 - Different

"Have a seat." Lauren offered, extending her arm towards the comfortable fabric chair on the other side of her desk.

Of all the things that Lauren finds both interesting and uncanny, it's how people manage to fake emotions that fascinated her the most. Faking a smile or forcing a laugh seem to have been rather elementary but misery was difficult to manufacture. A person cannot simply will their eyes to reflect a disastrous inner torment of a broken person. And it didn't need a Psychology educated eye to spot Camila's deceptive grins that was too painful to watch, and Lauren's guilt was skyrocketing, squeezing her heart dry.

Camila had a reputation to uphold; one that she established over the years which was relatively easy with her heart of stone. The problem with it was that, like most things, she was not invincible and if there was anyone capable of crushing her strength to finer sediments, that person was Lauren.

Camila's smile was different. It was forced; fabricated with the intention of concealing a persistent agony and residual torment that was exacerbated, triggered by the sight of her ever enthralling ex-girlfriend. Without Lauren, going about her new life was generally a breeze; a slightly stronger one that wouldn't quantify to a wild gust. The green-eyed brunette only existed in her dreams, haunted her when her consciousness could not forcefully fight her off. In essence, Lauren would only exist in a point of weakness which were in great numbers a year or two since Lauren left.

Gone were the days when she would cry herself to sleep and the throbbing ache in the confines of her skull was the only reason she surrendered to the clutches of slumber. But the pain was still there, lurking about, waiting for the perfect opportunity to lunge and never giving a break long enough to let her happiness linger.

It was only then, in all of her 27 years of living and breathing did Camila realize nightmares come alive and she was instantly overwhelmed.

During the eight years of their break-up, the Professor thrived to succeed, to be the best that there is and to take what she can, possibly away from a previous owner to make up for the void in her chest. She had become a tormentor who despised the sight of smiles, of a mere speck of glee. Camila thought it disgusted her but in reality, she was simply incomplete. She morphed into a selfish being of apathy that she had often forgotten her closest friends, her family, assuming they would turn their backs on her, too. She relished the feeling of the hair-raising fear her students and colleagues felt towards her. It was invigorating. But in the process, she was unable to feel love; she shunned it.

Camila's resentments were seething and filling her being up, if not, overflowing. But the professor was doing an awfully astounding job pretending to be just...peachy during that seemingly compulsory meeting. Upon descending on the seat before the counselor's desk, she crossed her legs and set a hand over the other while sitting in a particularly rigid, straight posture; her back did not even touch the back rest of the chair.

"What is this about?" Camila queried in a face that exuded curiosity; narrowed eyes and a slightly c****d head.

"Protocol." Lauren breathed apologetically coupled by a small sympathetic smile; surprised that her words were still and in its normal casual tenor amid her incredibly inhumane anxious pulse. It was even more fascinating that she was surviving considering Camila had taken her breath away, as well. "I know this is inconvenient. Ideally, I have to meet with new employees on their first day, although I would have understood if we rescheduled. But from what I've heard, you wouldn't offend anyone if you never did, especially not the chairman."

The professor waved a hand in dismissal, still wearing her strange grin and was successful in fighting off the proud smirk that had colonized her lips through the years.

"No, that's completely fine by me. Like you said; protocol."

The room that had been a haven, a refuge that only spiked serenity suddenly erupted into a conflagration that was sure to bring the entire building to ashes. It was supposed to be a room where apprehensive individuals could breathe fresh unadulterated air. But the smoke from the raging fire had formed into a thick, dark cloud, asphyxiating only one of its dwellers while the other remained oddly calm and at peace; or so it seemed.

The day had become too eventful for Lauren's liking. It was definitely a breakthrough, a necessary revelation but she would have appreciated an extra day to prepare for. It was as if she needed to regroup herself for the conversation where she was certain she would not embarrass herself in front of an educated, learned professor; a married professor that she was still unwilling to let go of.

Lauren would have preferred to have not been scanning Camila's files then, already humiliated just by that little detail alone. As casually as possible, the green-eyed brunette closed the folder in front of her and let it sit where it was, hoping that the Economics professor had not caught even the briefest glance of it. It wasn't like she was simply snooping around and digging dirt of a buried past, it was part of her job description and it would offer her insight as to how to go about problems should they arise.

"I'm supposed to ask you how your first day was." Lauren expressed upon swallowing hard, intertwining her fingers together and setting it over the thick folder. She applied force between her hands, afraid to let them go and tremble in fear. Her lips molded into the best kind of smile she could muster given the situation.

Shaking her head as she inhaled, Camila retorted simply and maintained her stature. "Nothing unusual. It's the ordinary kind of first day of the semester."

If she was asked to recall the most unusual first day of school, Camila would easily say her senior year in high school. It was the best kind of unusual that revved her heart and dried her mouth up in awe of the gorgeous green-eyed brunette who was shyly introducing herself as Lauren Jauregui. She was unknowingly captivating and Camila lost herself in a trance, eyes intently stuck to new girl. She had never seen a beauty quite like Lauren and as much as she detests what had become of the love that they once shared, Camila could never negate the bliss of their fleeting time together. The world knew how precious it was.

Camila just wished she was warned for a looming separation that could have been prevented.

"Okay." Lauren accepted with no protest and decided on moving on with the conversation just so she could swallow as much oxygen as she could upon huffing in relief. She feared that she might turn blue should Camila remain any longer as her lungs were struggling to compensate for her powerful heartbeats. "From your perspective, what can the college do to improve the work environment?"

"It's actually been great, as far as I'm concerned."

Lauren continued her experience-rehearsed questions, firing them at Camila at a steady and comfortable pace to which the professor answered in the simplest of terms and in the shortest of sentences. It was evident that Camila was guarded and was holding back on her answers. Lauren would assume the intelligent woman preferred to keep to herself, but she knew another version of Camila, an opinionated one who always astonished her with her perceptive insights.

But then, Lauren was cagy; cautious of the words that she allowed her mouth to form. There was an apparent uncertainty and the counselor was mortified at the thought of saying the wrong things that just might light up the fuse of an already agitated bomb.

The only consolation Lauren was happy about was thought that tension was kept at a low and the fire that she thought was ignited faded until its insignificant remnants were swept by the wind. In the middle of the conversation, her apprehensive temperament died down to a minimum along with the extinguished fire and she was able to render the most sincere grins.

"So, now, I only need a copy of your syllabuses, syllabi, whichever you prefer, if you have altered the one we have on file and we will meet again for another one of these interviews." Lauren concluded, offering a tight-lip grin which was returned graciously. "Do you have any concerns that I can help you with, Professor?"

While Lauren was simply being respectful, Camila grimaced every single time the counselor referred to her with the "proper designation" she had practically forced both schools' population to call her. She usually relished the fact that she was respected, paid with high regard. It wasn't because she had no such right to the title, it was simply because it was too formal, too detached for two people who used to love each other.

Camila wanted to feel pride, to brag about it to the world that her ex-girlfriend was respecting her and putting one of her passionate partialities first but she couldn't find it even in her acrimonious state.

Having been robbed of the chance to express her feelings and her concerns, Camila was left frustrated, rancorous and there were two people whom she was most aggravated with; the one who left and the other who compelled the other to do so. She had lived almost a decade that blessed her with time to obsess over unanswered questions and to develop a loathing against herself and the world.

It wasn't just Lauren who needed time. Camila was not certain as to why her heart won the battle of whether to face a demon she had created or save it for another day. It wasn't just astonishment and admiration that spiked up her senses that morning, it was antagonism and resentment, as well. Her frustrations were compelling and overpowering that her resolve gave out, making her carelessly and indignantly blurt out question laced with hostility.

"Where's your daughter?"

Literally taken aback, Lauren drew her head backwards and her features displayed her perplexity of the question. Her mouth had dried up in an instant just has her brows congregated in the middle, tensing her forehead.

"She's n-"

Camila raised her hand, interrupting the counselor before she could utter a complete answer. Her heart was hammering in her chest, still unprepared to hear of her ex-girlfriend's family and internally chastising herself for the slip-up. A flash of anxiety was all her expressions displayed before it shifted to her seemingly naturally condescending look in lightning speed. God forbid, Camila would show an ounce of vulnerability.

"Don't answer that. That's not necessary. I apologize for the intrusion, Miss Tremaine." She muttered coldly, tilting her chin up. Needing some recovery time, she set her other foot on the ground before brushing her palms against her clothed thighs. "I will be sure to render a copy of my syllabuses within the week."

Lauren was starting to believe that what she saw inside the classroom, the c***k and the glimpse of the version of Camila she knew was merely a hallucination. Expecting a very professional query, she was in deep shock upon hearing the question that sounded more like an accusation. Her nerves were back in full force and icing her blood in its path. Lauren was just about ready to retire to her bed and contemplate on the life she designed to fit Camila. She was forced to assume that it was just about time to surrender and brushed all hope of a reconciliation aside.

But then, the brown-eyed brunette had a way of surprising her. Both on their feet, Lauren extended her arm and offered a hand to shake to conclude the little meeting. Camila accepted the gesture and grimaced with the undeniable force of the bolt coursing through both their veins upon contact. It was the same electrical current that prompted Lauren to clamp on her bottom lip to stifle a gasp.

For a moment, there were only two in the world and everyone else was but a blur, a rapid whirl that encapsulated and isolated the pair and left them eye to eye.

Chests heaved, attempting to replenish oxygen that had been depleted with a sudden and rapid huff. It may have been the most innocent gesture they could ever share as professional acquaintances but the pair was struggling to breathe. Reluctant as they were, both released their grip upon a firm squeeze and instinctual longing gazes that craved more.

Camila's eyes dropped down to the folder before the counselor, brushing at her top to seem busy while Lauren tugged at the collar of her shirt, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Upon lifting her gaze up to Lauren's, Camila wore a smirk, one that Lauren was not familiar with that wavered slightly upon inspecting those undeniable gorgeous porcelain features.

"You could have just asked me, you know?" Camila expressed, c*****g a proud brow up.

"Excuse me?"

With a satisfied, amused huff, Camila strutted towards the door, hips swaying before Lauren's eyes and abruptly stopping as her hand made contact with a the door knob. She figured, it was the best way to win the battle only she was competing in.

"The answers you're looking for are not in those files." She retorted with a shrug and subsequently slipped out the door, leaving the counselor dumbfounded.

They never spoke after that. The answers simply remained unknown and eating Lauren up as if it was a ravenous predator. It was a conundrum that was kept in a chest with only one person holding the key. But then, a breakthrough, one that paved a way for mysteries to be unraveled, to lead Camila back to the powder blue walls of Lauren's office and it came in the form of the professor's temper.

There were a lot of things Camila despised about teaching but she had two that absolutely riled her up; one, the unnecessary chitchat in her class and two, being addressed with anything but "professor". In the weeks of her stay in Lafayette Community College, she had continually corrected every single person, student or faculty and staff, who had referred to her with an incorrect designation; making sure her tenor was stiff and unwavering.

It was almost instant that she had the entire college at her fingertips; even Harold Stowers, the chairman, was rendered to his knees, figuratively. The students in the three courses of Economics that were in two schedules each all have been acquainted with her manner of teaching, her impressive résumé and her irritability. Everything seemed in order with most everyone bowing their heads in her presence or avoiding her altogether.

Camila was arrogant and boy, was she delighted of that disposition. She was severely different from the patient, tolerant angel she once was; shaped by the unkindness of the world that also molded her into the great "Professor C".

One Monday, the week before February, number one of her watch list poked its repulsive head in Camila's otherwise smooth sailing stint at Lafayette Community College. The professor was aimlessly pacing the space before the white boards as she continually offered an introduction to a new, related topic. A marker in her right hand, her shapely figure blessed her hormone-driven students' eyes.

"The first principle of Economics states..." Camila trailed off, looking into the chary pairs of orbs and impatiently waited for them to finish her sentence.

"People face tradeoffs." A chorus of small, insecure voices retorted, which painted a satisfied grin on her features. It was a telltale that she was getting through to them and they have absorbed as much of her lessons, and more importantly, it meant she was an effective professor albeit dreadful.

"Good." Camila commended in a detached, standoffish manner which canceled the praise. Of course, topped with an arrogant raised chin. "Today, we will continue our discussion on Consumer Theory. Last week, we discussed what makes consumers decide on which aspect of the product to lose for another; a tradeoff and we arrived at 'Utility Maximization' which is essentially, satisfying consumer preferences. In mathematical terms, solving for their utility function. N-"

Camila was halted upon picking up a voice that was competing against hers. Each pronunciation of a syllable raised her inner temperature and compelled her pulse to slam harder. Her blood was boiling and her ears were expelling steam, setting her eyes ablaze as those malicious brown orbs searched the limited four walls for the culprit. It threw her off the edge when the male voice never faltered when her raspy one did.

Upon clearing her throat, Camila straightened her posture, never bothering to conceal her annoyance and warned with an eerily hospitable tone that was the polar opposite of her expressions. She was greatly offended and the seething, vile feeling that surged in her body warmed her skin.

"I would like to inform you all, and I will only say this once; I do not tolerate unnecessary conversations, gossip, in this class. Should I catch you engaged in this mockery, I will send you out. Know that I do not need you within the same room as I am."

"Bitter bitch." The same male immediately mumbled to the person to their right; assuming his voice was stifled and in the lowest volume permissible for hearing. "Maybe she got dumped by her boyfriend. I wouldn't want to date her. Who does she think she is?"

Camila was undeterred but was internally cringing at the informal mention of being broken up with, abandoned despite the incorrect gender. The student was jabbing at two sensitive matters but one was still incredibly delicate despite the years that separated her from the actual event. The knowledge of Lauren's return to her life was intensifying her fury and Camila was not showing any mercy.

The professor was creating an inferno within that classroom and her students were beginning to uncomfortably shift in their seats as she crossed her arms and raised her challenging brows. She was determined to destroy whoever ridiculed her; yearning for vengeance and caring lesser and lesser of the wasted time she could have spent actually teaching.

The most sinister chuckle flew out of her mouth as she found the culprit wide-eyed and mortified. The unwilling accomplice was grimacing as if he waiting for the most excruciating pain. The pair was seated in the third row, shrinking in their seats and wishing for redemption that will never come until the professor had unleashed her wrath. She wanted to make an example out of him, to prove a point. Professor C was not to be messed with.

"May I know your name, so I can address you properly, Mr..." Slowly, Camila took one intimidating step, coupled by a resonating, cringe-worthy click of the heel and then another. Her penetrating stare was glued onto a blonde boy who was frantically averting it.

An answer never came. Instead, a haunting silence provided a blanket over the room. The boy's ashen features were more than satisfactory that the smirk on Camila's lips seemed permanent. She allowed her victim a limited amount of breathing space and glanced around the room to search for answer.

"I don't care to learn your names." Camila spoke bluntly, showing her indifference for all to see. She shrugged as she pursed her lips to solidify her claim. "But since he will not tell me, I'll be forced to give you all a rigorous set of tests and quizzes that may or may not have been discussed in the past during your first midterm, and I will make sure only a speck of you will pass. Although, I can assure blondie here that I will make it extra difficult for him."

Gasps resounded and heads turned to all sorts of direction, conversing with each other and conveying their concerns in silence. There was an evident internal battle in their horrified beings and Camila was counting down the seconds until someone would pierce through the suffocating silence. She was confident that someone would break, and she was right. It only took one more jab of a threat.

Camila shrugged, downplaying the severity of her words it seemed. "Now, if you all would like to suffer w-"

"Harrison." Said a girl to the far right, choking the name out in the rush of heart-pounding adrenaline with everyone's gazes snapping towards her direction.

"Scott Harrison." Another student, a boy seconded almost immediately in the most unflattering squeak of a nervous voice and promptly attracted everyone's eyes.

The widening devious grin displayed on Camila's glossy lips was hair-raising and the students before her were backing up, squeezing their bodies against the splat of their identical seats. For some reason, every frightened soul fed Camila's fire, fueling her to exact her ire on every defenseless victim.

"You have a mouth on you, Mr. Harrison." She began, dramatically nodding as if she was contemplating on her next actions. She raised a hand up to cup her cheek and successively tapping her cheek with her fingers, staring at the boy who had bowed his head down, eternally regretting the words he spoke.

"But if you'd really like to know of who I think I am; I think am very accomplished. I am a highly acclaimed economist with multiple job offers from multinational companies in multiple countries and a year's salary that could pay for your failing little ass's entire postsecondary education and more. While I am scarce, you are unfortunately abundant and unnecessary, and I can assure you, I have failed far too many of your kind. As for your uneducated comment, I did not get dumped by a boyfriend." Camila was not technically lying. A boyfriend couldn't have possibly rejected her; she had never even had one.

"I have been happily married to my best friend for the for over seven years, and my husband and I do not have to work a day in our lives, and yet I am still here with your chairman begging me to stay. I could walk out of this room and never have to worry about the food I will eat, the house I will live in well into the future but you have to listen to me, otherwise, I could retain you in this class for years to come. Don't think you can escape me by moving to another institution. I have connections, Mr. Harrison; ones that will chase you down to your grave." Her suspenseful, defined tone matched her menacing grin and eyes that had widened to a scowl that reduced the boy into a frightened, insignificant ashen puddle whose heart had shattered his ribcage.

"This lecture is an opportunity cost to this institution that is paying me to teach and the students who are here to learn given that I have chosen to partake in your unnecessary snide comment of juvenile nature." Camila concluded, confidence unwavering and internally celebrating another success. "Now, if there are any more smart asses, let's hear it before I continue with my lesson."

She began to pace painstakingly slow, taking the time to scour for brave eyes but found none. The room was quiet that not even a whisper pierced through the thick air. Instead, straightened in their seats, eyes directed down to the floor.

Camila reached for the printed hand out resting on the podium, preparing to resume her lecture but then her eyes found the boy once more.

"You may step out of my class, Mr. Harrison."

It was as if nothing had happened after Scott exited the classroom with his unkempt things secured in his arms. Apart from the scheming, satisfied smirk formed on her lips, the rest of the class went "unusual" as the professor would call it.

During lunch, Lauren was in her office, drinking water upon finishing her packed sandwich in less than 15 minutes. She was not one to join her colleagues in the teacher's lounge. Instead, she would enjoy a book or a game on her phone. Not much has changed in 10 years; Lauren still preferred her space, and the serenity and stillness of being alone. It was an almost fool-proof plan at veering away from gossip but then Ida Greene had different plans.

"Heard about what the new girl did? Cla...Clown?" Stammering with great difficulty, the secretary scampered towards Lauren's desk and perched herself onto one of the seats, bearing another issue of the "Ida's Almost Daily Chronicles"; again barging through the door unannounced.

Ida almost always showed every single work day, granting her job permits it and Lauren was permitting the intrusion, settling for one human being as company. The woman would bring forth conversations ranging from the college's budget to personal lives. It was as if she was the magnet of all rumors and gossip that could possibly ruin a person's career. And that day, she was talking about Camila.

"Clausnitzer." Lauren corrected with a chuckle, trying hard not to sound too invested. Despite her discomfort, she was highly amused by her friend. "It's been weeks, Ida. Her last name's not as hard to remember."

"Doesn't matter." The older woman dismissed with a wave of a hand and a roll of the eyes. Her expressions showed of her building disdain for the Economics professor that was easily conspicuous. Swiftly, she planted her hands on Lauren's desk and faced counselor who jumped slightly. "She's been terrorizing everyone. I think we have female Hitler in our midst. She glared at me today. Because I didn't let her pass before I did. She acts like she owns this place."

"What has she done to you?" Ida queried with apparent excitement when Lauren merely stayed silent despite the decently hilarious comments she had made.

"Nothing." Lauren answered simply with a shake of the head, too engrossed in her thoughts to form any other words. She was crawling to a daze, contemplating on Ida's words.

The change in her ex-girlfriend was astounding. She was aware of Camila's new antagonistic nature but was unaware of its extent. Of course, she figured the younger brunette's stature would elicit feelings along the line of respect and fear but she did not go so far as to assume Camila would purposely bully people. She was mostly perplexed as to the reason behind her not being the person enduring Camila's wrath.

"Are you sure?" Ida prodded with the rise of her incredulous brows, evidently surprised and disbelieving at the same time. She shook her head in apparent disapproval. "Because I can tell you, these people we work with hate her."

"Yeah, no." Lauren confirmed, finally blessing the woman with her green hues. "In the weeks that she's been with us, it's been peaceful."

"Maybe she likes you." Ida jested and wore a knowing smirk with an immaturely extended finger ready to poke the counselor's cheek; not aware of the truth behind her words.

Lauren looked unimpressed and dodged the intrusive finger. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the woman before her to express her contempt. "Maybe I've just been in this office avoiding the arena."

"I'm just saying, Miss Lauren." The secretary chuckled, retreating to slump in her seat and sending her head back to gaze at the quaint ceiling. Her arms flew as she expressed her thoughts that may have been better off remaining in her mind. She gathered the tips of her fingers in one hand and brought them up to her lips to plant a quick kiss as if she was a chef. "Maybe you could soften her up like pasta. Al dente, not too soft but soft enough. Boil her up in that Lauren Jauregui hotness. I think you could turn her gay. You're single and you should be out there."

Lauren wanted to divulge of her past with Ida, to silence the woman up but that would yield too many consequences than do good. For one, the woman could relentlessly tease her and could make it her life's purpose to get them back together or worse, spread the word like Ida was the morning paper boy, delivering the latest, hottest news.

Even when Lauren could not completely see her face, she was certain the secretary sported her signature knowing look, the one that stimulated an amused grin from her. Ida may be a slight pain to the ass but she could count on her to annoy her into surrendering with a smile.

"I thought I got away with gossip after graduating high school." She commented in a blasé, almost judgmental demeanor; shunning unnecessary attention away from her. Lauren always found herself chastising the older woman as if she was Ida's mother; a noticeable change from the fun-loving girl she once was.

"Oh, it's everywhere, honey." Ida interjected, fanning her hand towards Lauren to express how incorrect her friend's statement was. "High school gossip is nothing. Besides, we're technically still in college."

Ida did have a point albeit not as strong to Lauren's standards. The counselor thought it was best to simply shrug it off and was eager to proceed to another conversation; something less intriguing, something less...Camila but Ida had other plans.

"She's smart, though." The secretary acknowledged with a purse of the lip and a relenting nod. There was a speck of disappointment in her features, allowing Lauren the opportunity to inspect her features when she turned to face her. "If only she smiled more. I bet she'd look even more beautiful."

"Yeah." Lauren agreed, whispering her answer as her thoughts brought her back to the time when life was beautiful and simple even when her stress levels were high due to the pressures of her post-secondary education. "The most beautiful." She mused pensively, relishing in the wave of nostalgia that forced a smile on her lips.

"What was that?" Ida queried curiously, unable to catch the last statement but seemed to be oblivious to Lauren's haze which the counselor was grateful for. It would have needed a big cover-up to quell the woman's raging curiosity and desire to stick her nose up everyone's businesses.

"Nothing." The green-eyed brunette dismissed eagerly upon clearing her throat for composure. She tilted her head down to look at Ida in her best haughty yet playful look. "Was there a purpose to your coming here? I mean, related to my job. Do you need counseling? Is anyone bullying you or making your job hard to fulfill? You know I'm here for that, right?"

"Yes, and it's you." Ida immediately jab, uncurling in her seat; alerted by Lauren's tone. "It's lunch break, Miss Lauren. You should use it for its purpose." She mocked lightheartedly.

The secretary's argument was immediately refuted by the blaring sound of the school's bell to which Lauren's throaty laugh boomed through the walls. Ida narrowed her eyes at the green-eyed brunette, shaking her head in defeat, having possessed no witty comeback to silence her completely.

"Not anymore!" Lauren announced in a singsong manner, leaning closer to her friend, taunting her and particularly pleased with herself as evidenced by her fulfilled grin.

"Oh, right!" Ida perked up, snapping her fingers repeatedly in Lauren's face who was backing away in her discomfort. The secretary swiftly extended her index finger, a mere inch away from the tip of her friend's nose. "You know that blonde kid, Harrison? He's in trouble again."

Lauren lowered the blundering hand, away from herself and leaned towards the table, engrossed in the conversation involving a familiar name that had had multiple counseling sessions with her. The boy had an apparent inability to staple his lips together and had elicited a general distaste from his professors but had not gotten anything worse than being reprimanded.

The counselor had not been spared of his unsolicited comments either. Scott had openly expressed some rather sexist remarks while his eyes were trained towards Lauren's bust and/or behind and Lauren chose to perceive it merely as a joke.

"Scott Harrison? Already?" With furrowed brows, she c****d her head. Lauren searched the possibilities of the troubled boy's offence but resorted to simply asking to cut the suspense. "It hasn't even been a month since the semester started and it's only his second semester. What did he do now?"

Ida dramatically inhaled, shaking her head as she expelled air out in disappointment. "The usual; he made some comments about a professor while in her class this morning; nasty ones."

"No kidding? Who?"

There was a smug grin tugging at Ida's thin lips and was idly staring at Lauren who was losing patience. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and jerked her brows suggestively soon after. The counselor was quick to catch onto the insinuation. Jaw hitting the floor, Lauren gasped and her hands quickly flew to her mouth.

Lauren could not believe what she was hearing. There was a difficulty that she experienced when she was compelled to converse with her frightening ex-girlfriend who just about stole every ounce of muscle strength and oxygen supply in her body. It seemed unimaginable even for a careless student to test fate and get out of it alive. She was certain she would have passed out if she was the recipient of Camila's anger.

"No way!" She tentatively exclaimed, lost in her bewilderment. "Cam-Clausnitzer?" She gritted her teeth, riling herself up for allowing another weakness surface.

"She'll get away with it. She always does, I heard." Ida dismissed, not particularly entertained by the subject anymore. It was not necessarily as gripping as Lauren thought despite it being entertaining to deliver the news. "She is becoming so overrated. I'm kinda glad Harrison said whatever he said and I hope you tell me when you find out. I heard he will be sent here yet again."

The Economics professor was becoming increasingly bothersome. She possessed the characteristics of a co-worker that would drive another to resignation. Sure, she was an asset to the teaching force of the community college but the thought of an encounter with her was less than satisfactory. Ida's reaction was not helping Camila's case and her disdain for the professor was getting stronger with each passing second.

"We're too old for gossip, Ida." Lauren reprimanded in her raised brows, giving her friend a stern look in the hopes of ending the conversation altogether. She knew Camila deserved the job and even if all she saw was a frozen heart within the confines of her chest cavity, Lauren was hopeful. "From what I've heard, she's really good and is very intelligent. Give her a chance."

"Maybe you're too old and I will see. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not her biggest problem."

Lauren huffed in amusement, lips parting to form a broad grin and decided to humor her friend. "You're older than me."

"Doesn't matter. Loosen up, Miss Lauren!" And with that, Ida rose to her feet, turned on her heels and dawdled out the door, leaving a disbelieving yet entertained Lauren.

"Grow up while you're at it." Lauren yelled after her, chuckling to herself.

That afternoon, Lauren met with a particularly shaken up Scott Harrison and the counselor struggled to keep her feelings at bay. She could not help but feel involved in the situation with her ex-girlfriend whom she needed to re-acquaint herself with, apparently. It was one meeting she was greatly looking forward to but dreaded at the same time.

Days went by smoothly until it was Friday of the same week and Lauren was ready for a break. She was promised an extra half a day off after granting a request made by all of the deans and the chairman himself Saturday of the previous week. She was going to spend it conversing with a professional, and formulating a detailed blueprint of a plan she devised months prior.

Lauren had organized her office ready for the following work week and gathered the materials and personal items she would be taking home with her. Standing up, she pushed her wheeled office chair back and was about to reach for her purse when two solid knocks seized her attention. Furrowing her brows, she slipped her hands in her pockets, awaiting her guest.

"Come in."

A slight jiggle of the knob was followed by the steady twisting that allowed for the intruder to step in, slipping their head through the ample slit with another fake smile that Lauren was forced to become familiar with. In an instant, she was breathless and the pain in her chest was preventing her from doing something about it.

Professor C stopped by the door, tracing half of her forehead towards her ear to tuck stray strands behind and out of the way. "We meet again."