Forbidden University

Chapter 2

2

The months passed and Melanie found herself settling into her new life quite nicely. Most of the general requirement classes were a bore, to be honest, but she absolutely loved the English classes she was taking. Although she didn't yet have Dr. Fontaine as a teacher, she was able to find excuses to come by his office at least once or twice a week.

She called her parents every Sunday evening and she texted her siblings often. She missed home, but she was so busy adjusting to life as a student that she didn't think about Iowa too much. In fact, she could sense that she was drifting apart from her boyfriend Conor. Occasionally he would let several days pass before replying to a text or a selfie she sent. They used to be glued to their phones and now neither of them seemed to care very much.

One day in late October she logged on to f*******: and noticed that Conor changed his relationship status to "Single". As she looked into her laptop screen in disbelief, she got a text - it was from Conor. It read, simply:

Sry, babe. We both need 2 move on.

Well, that was officially it. She thought. I've been dumped via text. Strangely she wasn't upset over the breakup - she was, however, very pissed off with how he handled it. They had dated for almost three years at this point and he left her with eight words - two of which were abbreviations. As an English major she noticed things like this. She hated abbreviations, she hated when numbers were used instead of words.

He probably used 'sry' and '2', because he knows abbreviations and numbers are pet peeves! She fumed.

Melanie decided to, uncharacteristically, skip the remainder of her classes that day.

She left her dorm room and decided to rent a bike from the "Loan-A-Bike" station outside of the school's library. She realized she hadn't really been off campus since arriving nearly two months ago. Bringing only a pen and notebook, it felt good to leave all her devices behind - no phone, no tablet, no laptop. The warm desert wind felt inviting in her auburn hair as she peddled off campus and towards a small neighborhood she had yet to explore.

Peddling into the unknown, Melanie intuitively used her gut to chart a course which would hopefully lead her to a quaint little coffeehouse. She wanted some alone time - just her and the blank, open page.

She biked past college hangout bars, a taco place that served only vegan food and a twenty-four hour bookstore. Why she hadn't looked for the bookstore earlier, she wasn't sure. Her old life revolved around the bookstore in her small Iowa town, she even worked there part-time for the past two summers. College life was changing her - she was now being told what to read, and not just reading for the fun of it. The thought of that made her sad.

Rather than continuing to seek out a coffeehouse, she drove around the block and looped back to the bookstore. She was excited to see it was a very curated, independent store. And, indeed, it too was open twenty-four hours a day.

The perfect cure for my insomnia! She thought. Now I have a fun place to bike to when I just can't handle the campus anymore.

As she entered the store, she walked past a poster for the early evening reading which would be starting in just under two hours - a reading by none other than Dr. Armando Dickson Fontaine.

Melanie walked up and down the rows and rows of books. She let her porcelain fingers gently caress the books as she strolled aimlessly. Occasionally, she would stop when a title would catch her eye. She, however, was bound like a magnet for one section in particular: Poetry.

Finding the owners had amassed such an impressive collection of poetry was a delight to her soul. She quickly began to pull several books out to preview while sitting in a big, comfy chair around the corner. Eventually, she pulled nearly forty books out. The stack was so tall she carried them without being able to see where she was going. Somehow she landed in the big, comfy chair around the corner, without dropping a single title or killing herself or anyone else.

She started to devour each title, thumbing through until a poem, a line or even just a word, caught her eye. She was in word-nerd Heaven!

Melanie looked ridiculous: her tiny frame was covered nearly lap to head with poetry books. She was so upset by Conor's breakup text that she hadn't bothered to brush her hair or put on any makeup. In fact, she was still wearing yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt she found comfy. She didn't think she would run into anyone - but how wrong she would be.

Time passed and she continued to be absorbed by the books. She had started to make three piles: yes, no and maybe. The yes pile was the largest, the no pile had only one title and the maybe? Well, actually that was the pile she had yet to thumb through.

A familiar voice cut into her poetry trance, "Well, if it isn't my favorite advisee."

Her heart immediately started to beat out of her chest at the thought of bumping into Dr. Fontaine. Just as suddenly, her heart sank when she looked up. Her dream was coming true but Dr. Fontaine had a beautiful, slim, brunette nightmare standing next to him.

Melanie wanted the big, comfy chair to swallow her whole. She was dressed horribly, certainly wasn't presentable, and her hair was a disgrace. In contrast, the brunette smiled a toothy grin that immediately reminded her of the i********: models she hated herself for following.

"Oh, ah, hi, Dr. Fontaine. I mean, Armando."

"Melanie, I see you're considering some poetry," the professor kindly joked as he pointed towards the massive stack of books engulfing the young woman.

"Yes, ah, I mean, no, I mean, my boyfriend dumped me," she blurted out - surprising herself.

"So you are here now?" He asked.

"Um, I just needed to get out of my room, I don't know why I'm here really," she replied.

The professor's face dropped.

"What? What's wrong?" Melanie asked.

Armando looked hurt.

"It's nothing," he said, adding, "where are my manners? This is Penelope."

Penelope smiled at Melanie but didn't say a word.

I hate her. But she's so beautiful! Melanie thought to herself.

"I thought maybe you were here for my reading," Armando said.

"You have a reading, here, tonight?" Melanie was immediately embarrassed by her lack of missing this key fact.

What am I doing with my life? I could have dressed cute or at least presentable! She thought.

"Yes, my reading starts in fifteen minutes," Armando said, looking at his watch.

"I'd love to stay - I had no idea," Melanie replied, seriously.

"Please, you don't have to. It sounds like you are going through a lot today," the charming professor replied.

Penelope leaned in and whispered something in Armando's ear. Then she left his side.

"Well, you must excuse me," he said, "I must get ready."

"Of course, I'm so excited to hear you read, Dr. Fontaine, ah, Armando."

Melanie watched as Armando headed towards the open area near the front of the store. He shook hands with the staff and warmly greeted people as they began to sit down for his reading. She decided to stay perched where she was, and not join the entire crowd. Besides, they were on folding chairs and she had her big, comfy chair.

She set the poetry books aside, giving Armando her full attention.

He greeted the audience and made small talk about life in Arizona and how the weather reminded him of his home in Spain.

Then to Melanie's surprise, he said, "I have a new collection of poems which will be published later next month, but I wanted to share something with you which is very special to someone I recently met. She is very special to me, and she has said these words are very special to her. So, in the spirit of being very special, I wish to read to you some selections from a book I wrote many years ago. It is called Love In The Age Of s****l Anarchy."

Melanie felt her face get beet red as Armando shot a knowing glance in her direction.

Armando continued, "I must warn you, some of these poems are quite graphic in language - but they are about passion, and I think true passion can only be written using real, raw, and sometimes graphic words. Unfortunately for me, my publisher and many bookstores back home did not agree and consequently this book sold very few copies."

The audience politely laughed at his charmingly self-evasive joke.

Melanie closed her eyes as she listened to Armando read from her favorite book. The language danced around the room and her heart melted at the sound of his thick, authoritative Spanish accent.

As he began to read a poem about c*********s, Melanie's eyes opened and she scanned the room for beautiful Penelope. No sign of the mysterious woman.

She closed her eyes and let her professor's words seduce her soul. She knew she was falling deeper in love with the brilliant man. She also knew he was an expert lover. One skim of any page from Love In The Age Of s****l Anarchy would immediately confirm that fact. And she, of course, was still a virgin. She and Conor had agreed to wait until marriage. Now that day would never come.

I could never please Armando the way Penelope could! She silently sighed.

The reading was a dream come true for Melanie. She listened intently for the entire hour, mostly with her eyes closed so she could focus on every line, every word, every breath made by the great poet.

As the crowd thinned out, Melanie was trying to figure out what to do. Armando approached her.

"What did you think?" He asked, boyishly needing her approval.

"Oh, Armando, it was heaven on earth," she quipped, dramatically.

"I'm not sure about that, but I'm glad you liked it." He replied, adding, "come with me."

As he said this, the professor took his student's hand, lifting her from the big, comfy chair and back onto her feet.

"Sorry, I look like s**t," she replied, immediately covering her mouth.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry I said s**t," she said, embarrassed by her vulgarity.

"That's right, you are a religious girl," he said as he brushed the hair off her face and tucked a strand behind her ear.

Adding, "you could never look like s**t - even if you tried."

She blushed uncontrollably.

Is he flirting with me? She wondered. Or, is he just being courtly? I've heard the Spanish are very courtly people.

"Oh, Dr. Fontaine, thank you, but I don't feel very presentable right now," she said quietly.

"Let's change that," he said, leading her out of the bookstore.

"There is a handcrafted boutique just around the corner - all of the clothes are organic, fair-trade, very nice quality," he said, "I want you to pick out something you like."

"Oh, ah, Dr. Fontaine, I mean, Armando, I did not bring very much money with me."

"That is fine, because I have store credit there. They sell signed editions of my books and I will just use some of that money. I just need you to be proud of your appearance. For me. Tonight."

What does he mean by 'for me' and 'tonight'? Melanie wondered.

She quickly picked out a cute tank top that matched her yoga pants. She spent some time in the changing room brushing her hair with her fingers.

When she emerged, Armando said simply, "breathtaking."

He held up a necklace with an "ohm" symbol. "I want you to have this too," he said as he began to clasp the necklace around her.

"Beautiful, my friend, beautiful." He said, admiring his student like a piece of art hanging in a prestigious gallery.

"Where is your girlfriend Penelope?" Melanie blurted back before she could say, "thank you".

Armando began to laugh, a hearty laugh.

"I, I, I noticed she left before the reading." Melanie added.

"Penelope is not my girlfriend, she is my sister!" He laughed.

Melanie immediately turned tomato red, "oh, cool." She added, trying to play off her excitement at the news that the gorgeous Penelope was not, in fact, Armando's lover.

The professor settled up with the woman at the counter and led Melanie to a very bohemian chic cafe around the corner. He ordered drinks in Spanish and Melanie wished to God she knew what was being said between the Spanish professor and the Spanish-speaking waiter.