"So, who can tell me what Aristotle was trying to portray here?" Mr. Fitz asked us. I looked around and found a hand rise behind the front of a MacBook Pro. I could see where the girl was coming from, leaning back in her chair like that. Mr. Fitz was a teacher who liked to grill students with questions and if they answered wrong, most likely the girls didn't want him to see their embarrassment. That's how every girl was in his English classes. How could you not find him attractive? From his dark hair, never ending knowledge of classic fiction to the fact that some days he would show up wearing beat up converse, he was the perfect man for anyone hoping to score an older, literature obsessed boyfriend with just the right amount quirkiness. But unfortunately to everyone, he wasn't available. It's not like he ever talked about his personal life, the only thing we know was his age, which is twenty-seven (the only reason I knew that is because he once referred to the year he was born). He practically wore his relationship status, from the immaculate collection of ties right down to the tattoo on his ring finger that simply read 'Aria' in cursive font. Not only was he good looking, but he was also a great teacher. Every day he would ask if anyone read any good books lately and we'd sometimes spend classes discussing the themes of books that weren't even on our required reading list. He always helped a student in need and his lectures were never boring…but that was probably because everyone wanted to hear his deep voice. I guess that's why everyone paid him the fullest attention, but he seemed to never notice the girls flirting with him, or he just didn't let it show. It wasn't just the girls who loved him, the guys thought he was pretty cool, and that was big for the typical college aged, large ego bearing boys.

"Yes," he pointed to the girl. She answered him swiftly, like any kiss-up would do. Thankfully, class was over and I didn't get to see what happened next. While some students talked to him while they packed up their stuff, I was out of the door in a flash. It was already awkward enough having a crush on your English professor, but the fact that you share that with everyone else makes you feel protective. For some, yes, it may make them feel "normal" or they have something in common with others, but not me. Having girls to talk to it about would be nice and reassuring, but unfortunately for me, I didn't have many friends who were English majors like me, all my friends were artists that spent their days in the kiln room or drawing in their spare time. Lucky for me, I did take a pottery class, which was where I was headed that afternoon.

I was checking on a bowl I threw the previous day and I was just checking to see if it made through the kiln in one piece. After classes were over, the pottery room usually got packed; everyone wanted more time to work on their projects, but not that day. Instead there was only one girl there. She had her back to me and was at the potter's wheel. She was wearing black heeled booties, even though our wheels were manually spun. She was wearing tights and a black skirt that clung to her legs under her apron, complete with an oversized Fair Isle sweater. It was nearing the end of the semester and the temperatures were dropping rapidly.

The girl barely flinched when the door slammed behind me, she looked back and smiled quickly before getting back to work. I walked around her and to the kiln room. My bowl hadn't even been fired yet. I exited the room.

"Hey, do you know when she's going to fire our stuff?" I asked while pointing with my thumb to the room behind me. She looked up.

"Hmm." She thought to herself and held up one finger. She stood up and wiped off her hands with a dirty rag. She wasn't very tall, but I could tell she was an upperclassmen, her pot was beautiful and looked like it could've only been thrown by a pro. She walked around me and went over to a piece of paper that was hanging outside. I hadn't even noticed it before, and as I got closer I could tell it was a schedule. It had the shelves labeled with numbers.

"Which shelf is it on?" she asked.

I took a look. "Um…three."

She pointed to the shelf on the paper, leaving behind a dab of clay. "Looks like the stuff on that shelf won't be fired until tonight. Sorry."

"Oh…that's weird I threw it yesterday." I skimmed the sheet as well.

"Yah it gets pretty full in there around Christmas time, everyone wants to use their projects as presents." She laughed. "We'll do desperate things to save a couple bucks."

I laughed. "Your right with that one. I barely have enough money to feed myself."

I followed her back out to the main studio. She sat back down at the potter's wheel.

"That's a really cool pot." I pointed out.

"Oh, thanks." She said. I could tell she was the type of person who tried to stay humble. "You using it as a present?"

She laughed. "No…I think I'm going to keep this one for myself."

She steadied her hand and inspected the pot up close. I couldn't help but ask more questions. "What year are you?"

"Senior." She responded.

"You a pottery major?"

"Nah, I just love pottery so much I took a couple classes. I'm actually an English major."

I couldn't contain my astonishment. "Really? Same!"

She smiled genuinely.

"Who was your professor freshmen year?"

"Professor Dunphy." She responded. "I'm more into creative writing, but I love other types of literature too."

I nodded and watched as she lifted up her left hand carefully as she started to spin the cinder block. She carefully retouched the top with a tool so it was smooth. That's when I noticed her tattoo. It was on her ring finger, in black cursive font, it said 'Ezra'. My breathe caught in my throat. Could it be? No, was my first initial thought, she was still in college for pete's sake. Then I took in her clothing style. She seemed to be a fashion expert, someone who knew just what color or pattern would look good on someone. For instance like a tie…or ties. I couldn't believe it. The girl everyone wanted to be was a normal college student like herself.

The room started to feel stuffy.

"I have to go…good look with that." I pointed to her pot and dashed out of the room. Huh, I thought. That was weird. Wait until everyone hears about this. I stopped in the hallway and thought to myself. Who would I tell? I shook that thought out of my head and headed in the direction of my dorm when I ran into something hard. I saw a red tie when I looked up.

Oh you've got to be kidding me.

He had reached out and grabbed my arm to steady me. I put my hand to my forehead embarrassed. "S-sorry Professor Fitz."

He shrugged. "It's no problem. It was just an accident."

I nodded and noticed he was holding two coffee cups. I suddenly craved my regular frappuccino from Starbucks. I assessed in my head that if I walked quickly, I could get there in almost five minutes.

"Well, I'll see you in class tomorrow." I said awkwardly and accidentally brushed past him as I left. I could feel the warmth in my face spread across my cheeks. "Sorry."

He waved good-bye and turned right. I closed my eyes and cringed at my awful social skills. I craned my neck back and groaned inwardly. Could I be any more of a spazz? I decided not to rush to Starbucks so my hands were nearly frozen when I got there. Once I entered I saw a group of girls from my English class chatting at a table. A few looked over and acknowledged me with a look that said, I know you. I walked up to the counter and ordered. The girls were laughing at something and I suddenly missed my group of friends from high school. The African American college student behind the register handed me my cup. I replied with a thanks and went to a table by the window right next to the girls.

"Did you see what he was wearing today?" One of the girls drawled. The others whistled and moaned with delight.

"He's so yummy...Professor Fitz." The blonde one made a satisfied sound. One that came from eating a warm, moist brownie straight out of the oven. The girls laughed and took sips from their styrofoam cups.

"Jesus, why do all the good looking men have to be taken?" One of them asked.

"I heard somewhere he was single." Another one said.

"Then how do you explain his tattoo?" The blonde asked in a snotty tone. The girl shrugged.

"Maybe it's his mom."

"On his ring finger?"

A couple of them laughed and simultaneously took another sip.

I don't know what possessed me at that moment, but my mouth just opened right then.

"I actually just met her today." I blurted out. Crap. Why did I say that?

They all looked at me. I expected them to snicker and ask dumb questions like "who are you?".

"Really? How do you know it was her?" One gasped.

"Do tell." The blonde added.

I told them how I met her.

"She's a senior and an English major." I dished. I felt like such a girl, but it felt good to gossip like the old days.

"She's a student?" The blonde's jaw dropped. I gave a I-don't-believe-it-either nod.

"Who woulda thought?" Another asked. She laughed. "Maybe we actually do have a shot."

I was about to tell them about running into him and seeing him taking the coffee towards the pottery room, but I stopped myself. I wanted to savor this moment as it was.

"Don't you think he's just gorgeous?" She asked.

"He is dreamy."

"Oh, I know right. I just want to rip his clothes off!" She said in a not-so-quiet voice.

"Well we know what Kate's been daydreaming about." The blonde said. We all laughed.

"I'm Josie, by the way." The blonde one said.

"I'm Alyssa." It felt weird introducing myself to someone so close to semester break. The others introduced themselves too.

"So she had the tattoo and everything?" Josie asked. She whistled. "Either she's sure she's going to marry him or she's not afraid of tattoo removal."

I laughed. "I think they're serious. I'm pretty sure she's the one buying his ties."

"Phew." Kate said. "I thought he was metrosexual or something!"

We all laughed. "God, why can't there be any single guys like him?" Josie asked as she leaned back in her chair.

We all shrugged because, well, no one knew the answer. Josie suddenly leaned forward.

"Wait, was this girl…pretty?" She asked.

"Extremely." I responded.

She sighed. "Of course."

"What'd she look like?" Kate asked.

I thought for a moment. "Dark brown hair, big eyes…great fashion sense."

"I wonder where she's from." Josie pondered. One of her friends slapped her arm. "Ouch! I'm just wondering! I'm not a stalker or something."

I almost choked because I was laughing so hard. Once we were all settled down, Kate put her hand up.

"So we finally know who this 'Aria' girl is…and to think I thought she was some annoying ugly, control freaky bitch!" Kate exclaimed using her hands as emphasis.

"Not everyone is like that." Josie pointed out.

"Well some…remember Professor Molina?"

We all burst out laughing while the whole Starbucks looked at us confused. Yah, I thought. Let 'em.