"It's a Saturday night…and you're doing homework?" Kate groaned on the other end of the line. I could hear noise in the background. She must've been at a party in someone's dorm. I sighed.
"Sorry Kate."
She didn't say anything, so I knew she was pouting.
"You want me to come over afterwards?" I asked.
"Nah. I'll be fine." She replied. I could tell though she was already lonely. Josie was working at some bar in Old Hollis that she refused to quit because she got great tips from drunken college boys and old men.
We both hung up and I turned to face the book splayed out in front of me. Whoever told me I could pass this course was a dope. I hated classic literature. Well, I didn't hate it…I just could never understand it. I took a sip of my non-alcoholic beverage and studied the page. I was at Rio's, a small pub not very far away from the rich neighborhood. Although it was located there, it was hidden in a strip mall that no one ever went to. Everyone went to the King James instead. I had found this place last semester when I was bored out of my mind and had no friends. I had been going there ever since. The waiters knew me and I took a liking to Drew, a thirty-something year old guy who had tattoos and gages I could fit my thumb in.
I had read a whole two pages when someone sat down a couple stools down from me. I looked over and nearly choked on air. Sitting in front of the bar was none other than Professor Fitz, my English professor, who I guiltily stalked on Facebook the other night and concluded that his college girlfriend was probably in high school when they first started dating.
Please don't look my way. Please don't look my way. I silently pleaded. I turned my head in the other direction hoping he didn't recognize me. I was not in the mood to make a fool of myself.
"Refill?" Drew asked. I quickly turned my head towards him and nodded.
"Alyssa?" Professor Fitz asked. Crap.
I spun around in my stool. "Professor Fitz! What…what are you doing here?"
"Just getting a drink." He held up his glass and took a sip. It looked like Scotch but I wasn't sure. "Are you attempting to read in here?"
He pointed at my book. "I was trying…for some reason I actually concentrate better at a place like this."
He nodded and smiled. My insides swirled. Calm yourself.
I awkwardly tapped my short nails against the counter. We exchanged a couple of curt glances and I took that as an okay to start reading again. That is, until I was so frustrated I decided to ask the English professor that was conveniently sitting next to me.
"You've read Nathanial Hawthorne right?" I asked. He looked up and nodded. I continued on. "I really don't understand why he has to portray everyone with a 'secret sin' or whatever. I mean don't get me wrong we all sin and keep secrets, but hasn't he already portrayed a sinful minister like ten times?"
I breathed out and realized I was probably talking a mile a minute and my use of 'like' was probably not the smartest thing to say.
"Well since they were in the Puritan times he probably wanted to write about something no one else wrote about. I mean, think of it this way. If someone sinned you'd think they'd go to confession right?" I nodded. "Yah, but Hawthorne didn't believe that everyone was perfect. He assumed even the most 'holy' sinned and it was different than any other writing of the seventeenth century. It was more…emotional."
I slowly nodded taking it all in. "But does everyone have to whip themselves as a form of torture?"
He laughed softly. "Dimmesdale was a sinful man."
"The Puritans were crazy for making Hester wear that 'A' like that. And the 'A' symbolized so many things. Does he have to make everything a symbol?"
"Hawthorne did like his symbols…" He took a sip of his mysterious drink again. "Dimmesdale was probably thinking about the consequences."
It took me a moment to realize he steered the conversation back to Dimmesdale and his 'secret sin'.
"Yah but it caused him so much pain. Was it really worth it?" I asked.
"Sometimes keeping secrets keeps things going. In his mind he was still able to stay a minister if he kept the secret and that's what he wanted." He wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand.
"Did you really like his writing?" I asked. I looked at the open book and figured I wasn't going to get anything done so I closed it.
"Yah…I did, I do. It sometimes reminds me of…" He trailed off. "Sorry."
I didn't know what he was sorry about but I didn't want to pry, nor did I want to think about the newly discovered information I was storing in my mind.
"There was this time back in high school when I lied to everyone saying that I wanted to be a lawyer like my aunt when I really wanted to be a writer. I guess I lied because I didn't want anyone to know I had those ambitions. I wasn't the best student and English wasn't my best subject…I guess I kept it a secret because I didn't want to feel like hearing everyone say it was going to be hard or I couldn't do it." I swallowed. I couldn't believe I just spilled my biggest insecurities to my English professor. My English professor. I probably scared him to death. I half expected him to move away.
He spun his glass in circles and then looked up at me. "I once dropped this huge bomb that I thought would fix things…and I realized that it was much better keeping a secret. It was even more complicated than before and there we were again lying. I felt like I was going in a circle."
"We?" I cautiously asked. His brow crinkled and then he widened his eyes.
"Um, I-"
"Someone else?" I asked and lowered my voice. "Some special…per say?"
He slowly nodded. "How did you know I was talking about her?"
He must've thought I assumed 'her' was his girlfriend, little did he know that I actually know who she was.
I shrugged. "I could tell."
We both stopped talking. There was a shift in the air between us. He must've noticed it too, because he changed the subject.
"You excited for New York?" he asked.
"What?" I asked. "Oh right. Well, if I get in."
He waved my thought off. "Of course you will."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You've got talent. Just because you may not fully understand the classics, doesn't mean you're not good enough." Normally I would've been offended, but the way he said it didn't come off as an insult, but instead something I shouldn't be embarrassed about.
"Thank you." I said.
"And for the record, I never really liked Moby Dick. It just bored me."
I laughed. "You could pay me a hundred bucks and I wouldn't even attempt to read it." I paused. "I take that back. I probably would seeing I'm a poor college student."
Drew came back and refilled Mr. Fitz's glass. "You engaged or something?"
Mr. Fitz looked down at his ring finger. "No, just…someone special."
Drew nodded and walked off.
"He likes tattoos." I told him.
"I could see that…" He glanced at Drew. His arms were covered in tattoos, but they weren't random, they all meant something. I learned that about Drew one night when it was a dead zone and we decided to play twenty questions. At that time he was probably my only friend.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but who is this mystery girl you got a tattoo for?"
He outstretched his fingers. "Aria…we've been together for years. We got these a couple years ago actually."
I chose my words carefully. "You pretty certain you'll stay with her forever?"
"I'd like to think that." He studied his tattoo like he had just noticed it. "There's really not much I can say about her except that I love her."
I felt a pang in my stomach. It wasn't because I was jealous, it was because I could tell he was really in love and all the mistakes and secrets he implied earlier were just a way of staying with her.
"Well, I hope it works out." My phone rang from inside my bag. Kate's name was written across the screen.
"Hello?"
"Alyssaaaa!" Kate yelled. I shuddered and inched the phone away from my ear. Kate was wasted. Completely, one hundred percent wasted.
"Kate. Where are you?" I asked. I could hear all sorts of cheering and music in the background.
"At a party…in the dorm!" She replied. Tomorrow was Sunday and Kate always felt guilty when she didn't attend Church. Greeeaat.
"Oh!" She exclaimed. She was practically screaming. "You'll never guess who's here."
"Who?" I asked. Was it Josie? Did she finally quit?
"Aria!" She yelled. My eyes widened. "I wonder where her booooyfriend is."
"Kate. Kate." I stammered.
"Mr. Fitz better watch out. His college girl is getting all the attention!"
I quickly hung up and hoped that he didn't overhear what she said. But judging by his face, I knew he did.
