The Syllabus of Us

Chapter 2

Leigh's POV

The weight of the previous day's events hung heavily over me. I replayed the encounter with Mr. Valerio in my mind, over and over again, each time my heart skipped a beat.

I groaned and buried my face in my pillow. Why did my heart have to be so complicated? I had spent months crushing on him from afar, but now, after that unexpected conversation in the studio, I was starting to feel things I couldn't easily ignore. And now, of course, the feeling was magnified by the undeniable fact that he had noticed me. I couldn't just brush that off.

My thoughts kept swirling back to that moment when his eyes had met mine—how I'd caught a glimpse of something in them, something I couldn't quite put into words. And it was like everything had shifted.

I tried to pretend it was nothing. He was my instructor, and I had to keep it professional. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much harder that would be now.

The next morning, I did what any normal person would do: I avoided him.

I spent the day wandering around the city, trying to clear my mind. Music had always been my escape, and that's exactly what I needed: a little time alone to think or rather to stop thinking.

But my mind couldn't stop drifting back to him. His words kept echoing in my head, and his presence at the studio had caught me off guard.

By the time I finally made my way back to the campus studio, I was feeling more tangled up than ever.

I opened the door expecting to see the usual chaos of the guys practicing, but instead, my breath caught in my throat.

There he was.

Mr. Valerio.

He was sitting near the piano casually flipping through a notebook--unaware of my presence. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and his hair was slightly tousled—like he had just run his fingers through it absentmindedly. I sucked in a sharp breath. My heart fluttered in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I stepped back, not wanting to disturb him.

But before I could make a quick exit, his voice rang out across the room.

"Leigh?"

I froze. My feet felt like they were glued to the ground.

"You're in my class, aren't you?" he asked tilting his head slightly giving me his gaze sharp but warm.

Oh no. So he did recognize me.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, trying to steady my voice. "Computer Engineering."

He gave a small smile, and I felt my heart skip a beat. "Right. I remember now."

I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. I forced myself to breathe.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his fingers absently on the notebook. "What brings you here?"

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Uh, music. My friends and I play here sometimes."

He nodded, as if considering my words carefully. "Music and engineering—quite the combination."

I was surprised by the softness in his tone. "Yeah. Guess I like making things work, whether it's circuits or songs."

He smirked just a little, his eyes glinting at something unreadable. "That's a good way to put it."

A silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt... different. Like there was something unspoken hanging in the air, something neither of us was willing to address directly.

"Well, I should—" I started to step away, eager to escape the intensity of the moment.

"Wait."

I stopped mid-step, my pulse quickening. His voice was calm, but there was something in it that made me freeze in place.

"Have you ever thought about composing your own music?" he asked while his gaze stood as it met mine.

I blinked and got caught off guard by the question. "I mean, I've tried. But nothing serious."

He nodded thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You should. You have the passion for it—I can see that."

My breath hitched. Was he being serious? Had he been paying attention to me all along? My mind raced, but I couldn't find the right words.

I nodded, trying to shake off the sudden wave of nerves. "Maybe I will."

For a brief moment, his eyes held mine—deeper than before—and I swore I saw a flicker of something more in them. Then, just as quickly, he returned to the notebook in his hands, as if nothing had happened.

"Good. I'd like to hear it someday," he said, his tone casual again, but there was something there that made my heart race.

And just like that, the moment was gone. He went back to scribbling in his notebook, and I was left standing there, feeling like my entire world had just shifted on its axis. My heart was still pounding, and my thoughts were in disarray.

I quickly left the studio, barely able to process what had just happened. As I stepped outside, the cool air did little to calm my racing thoughts.

Mr. Valerio's POV

I watched Leigh walk out of the studio, her steps quick and unsure. There was something about the way she moved, like she was trying to escape the tension between us. The moment she was gone, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

I had let my curiosity get the better of me. I should have kept my distance, but there was something about her that made that difficult. The way she hesitated before speaking, the way her eyes flickered with that quiet intensity—it was hard to ignore.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to clear my head. She's a student, I reminded myself. This is inappropriate.

Still, my thoughts kept drifting back to her. There was something magnetic about her, something I couldn't quite place. But I couldn't—shouldn't—let myself get involved.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. A message from a colleague.

Faculty meeting at 5 PM. Don't be late.

Right. Work. Focus on that, not on a student who had no idea what kind of thoughts she was stirring in me.

With a frustrated sigh, I grabbed my bag and stood up and giving one last glance toward the piano before heading out.

No more distractions.

I walked through the hallways toward my next class--already dreading the inevitable. Of course, I have to teach a class now. And of course, she would be in it.

I stepped into the classroom and tried to keep my expression neutral, only to immediately regret it. There she was. Leigh. Sitting in the front row, as usual.

Our eyes met, and she straightened up while her cheeks flushed a deep red. I cleared my throat and doing my best to maintain my composure.

"Good afternoon, class," I said, keeping my voice steady.

"Good afternoon, sir," the class replied, though Leigh's gaze remained fixed on her notes, avoiding my eyes.

Sigh. It was going to be a long class.

As I turned to explain a complex concept on the board, I knocked over my coffee. The cup tumbled, and the dark liquid spread across Leigh's desk, staining her notes—and worse—spilling over onto her lap.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I blurted and frantically grabbing napkins from my desk.

Leigh stood up, frozen, her face pale as she tried to dab at the mess.

"I—it's fine!" she stammered, her voice a little too high-pitched. "Really! Just—hot! But fine!"

I rushed to help, trying to salvage what I could. This was the last thing I needed to happen with her in the front row, but at least it gave me a reason to be close.

"I'll clean this up," I muttered, and offered napkins.

Her face was still red as she took them. "Well," she muttered, "that's one way to make class more interesting."

I sighed and trying to hold it together. This is going to be a long semester.