"What's got you in such a fuss?"
April didn't quite hear her roommate's question, bent over the sink in their dorm room to apply mascara across long, light lashes without clumping them all together. There's the slightest nervous shake in her head, but she's glad that she's at least nearsighted.
"April. What's going on? Aren't you going home tomorrow?"
"Huh?" She paused, realizing what Julia had asked before the brunette had the chance to repeat her question. "Oh, nothing. I am. I still am. I just have something to do tonight."
"Looks more like someone to do." The older girl replied without missing a beat. "Do you need to take some condoms with you? You can take some of mine. Seriously, don't trust the guy to have some. They're totally unreliable."
"Julia!"
A balled up tissue is thrown pathetically at the other, smudges of foundation and lipstick smeared across the material. Of course, it's less than twenty seconds later before she's moving to pick up and toss it in the trash bin. Their room had been stressed cleaned more times than this week than she could count on one hand, saying that it was just because she wanted it clean before going home, but really she just needed to keep herself busy. Now, though, she wanted more than ever to slow down.
Popping back over in front of the mirror, she assessed her appearance. Her makeup was fine, about as fancy as she went – foundation to even out her skin tone, a light shimmery pink painted across her eyelids and mascara, lips painted in a soft, matte nude. A slight bit of bronzer was added, not wanting to look like too much of a ghost even if she preferred a natural look.
"I'll be back by midnight." April spouted off as she stared at her reflection for a moment longer. "If I'm not, will you call me and make sure that I'm alright?" It was something that she'd done for her roommate, of course. Julia went out much more than she did.
"Only if you really want me to. Morning sex is a great way to wake up."
"Julia!"
That's enough to get her changing out of the black dress that she'd first put on. Jeans would be warmer, anyways. Light washed material is slipped into quickly, pulling on a camisole and black sweater instead. Heeled boots are pulled on, still wanting to look nice. A puffy winter coat and scarf are the final pieces, not bothering with a beanie for the sake of keeping her hair smooth.
"I'm serious, okay? Call me if I'm not back. I know you'll be up." A slight concern as she looked back at her roommate, waiting until approval came before grabbing her purse and heading out.
Hisses of steam filled the kitchen as pasta and boiling water are poured from the pot and into the strainer in the sink. Jackson leaned back to avoid the heat getting onto him too much, just finishing up dinner. His townhouse was lavishly decorated from his mother's insistence, just past thirty and still able to avoid her interference in some aspects of his life. But tonight's dinner was all his own doing. Minus the fact that the caesar salad had been prepackaged.
But it was all presented nicely, at least. A fresh loaf of bread aromating the kitchen, salad tossed in a nice white bowl, pasta now waiting in the strainer with a vodka sauce and vegetable mix simmering on the stove. A bottle of merlot was already opened, two wine glasses set down. Nothing too fancy or over the top, going with something easy.
The clock was seven minutes until eight o'clock, April standing nervously outside on his doorstep. It was freezing outside, quite literally. Snow covered the sidewalks and she was lucky as always to have made it there without slipping, especially in her shoes. Although she was always early to his class, showing up early to his house for dinner seemed like… too much.
Or that's what she told herself for the first four minutes of standing there. But she could only take so much of the brutal weather.
The sound of the doorbell ringing rang through his house. Jackson tossed down the kitchen towel, smoothing out his shirt. He'd changed into black jeans and a black button-down shirt, deciding that perhaps sweats weren't quite appropriate. Patterned socks were a bit dorky, but didn't bother him as he opened up the door and greeted her with a smile.
"Hey, April. Come on in, you must be freezing out there."
"Hi, Dr. Avery." For once, there's no hesitation in stepping inside, cold being more than enough to make her brazen. Jackson helped her out of her scarf and coat, hanging the items up in the hall closet nearest the door. "Oh, wow. You have an amazing house. That's a gorgeous fireplace. And it smells amazing!" Compliments are released like a floodgate, the compulsive need to be a good and pleasing guest coming out in full force.
"Thank you. I've got to admit, the fireplace is nice for cold nights like these. You've got perfect timing, though, I just finished up the pasta. I wasn't sure if you eat meat or not so I made sure to do something vegetarian. And please, call me Jackson." He ushered her further into the house and toward the kitchen, hand finding the small of her back in a natural motion.
"That's fine! I uh, I grew up on a farm, actually. I eat plenty of meat. Probably ate more pork than what I should growing up," she shrugged with her words.
"Wine?"
"What?"
"Would you like a glass of wine, April? It's Merlot."
A slight pause, blinking a few times as she processed the words. Maybe he had assumed that she was over twenty-one or maybe he was just one of those people that didn't care. She wet painted lips, shaking her head.
"Oh, no. Uh, but thank you. I'm only eighteen."
"Yeah? Sorry. I just assumed. When I was in college, well, no one really cared as long as you were in college." A look of bemusement covered his features as he moved to put the second glass back up in the cabinets before pouring himself a single, modest glass. "But that's good of you, staying honest." Jackson continued as he moved to pull out two plates from the cabinet, setting them down and grabbing sets of silverware to match.
April gave a nervous look around the place, gaze set on the two plates that he pulled out. The way that he had spoken before… she'd thought that he might have been inviting other students from her class or one of the others that he taught. Apparently, she'd been mistaken about that.
"Go ahead, serve yourself." The words pull her out of her thoughts and she gave an eager nod of her head before grabbing a plate, filling it up half with salad and half with pasta, a piece of garlic bread getting placed on this edge.
"This looks and smells amazing, really. I can't think of the last time I've had a meal that wasn't fast food or from the cafeteria."
"It's nice to have someone to cook for, really. A lot easier to cook for one person than two. I've never really been one for leftovers." Jackson followed suit, waiting for her to finish serving herself before getting a plate of his own, pasta taking over the plate a little more than his salad did.
The two of them sat down across from each other, a bit of small talk occurring for the sake of being polite and not wanting to get into something too deep. April was still nervous about the prospect of being the only student there, feeling like she should say something about it but not wanting to offend him. Jackson, on the other hand, managed to be completely oblivious to the nerves. He was enjoying himself completely, glad to have genuine company.
"Do you mind if I ask you something, Dr. Avery?"
"Jackson. And sure."
Another slight pause is taken, barely blushing as he corrected her words but instinctively nodding at the same time.
"When you asked me here for dinner, I… I kind of thought that other students might be here, too. You said best students and I know that you have plenty of brilliant students. I mean, it's Northwestern. Everyone's brilliant."
The fork full of penne paused halfway to his mouth as the words come out of her mouth. No actual question escaped from his student but Jackson wasn't an idiot, he understood where exactly she was getting. Probably just trying to be polite.
"What's your question, April?" He asked for a bit of genuine clarification, not wanting to assume. The last thing he wanted to do was put words in her mouth.
"Is this a date?"
Maybe he should have assumed because that definitely wasn't what Jackson had expected to hear coming from her mouth. Not because it was an outlandish possibility. It was a realistic one. He just hadn't expected her to be forward enough to come out and say it. The possibility of it must have really been bothering her – or, well…. something else. He preferred the latter.
The slight pause that he put between her question and actually answering it had April in full panic mode. Maybe her roommate had gotten into her head too much with all of the teasings about the sex, or maybe she'd just taken it over the top with her need to get ready and look nice. But he'd changed too! Even if he always looked insanely handsome, he'd dressed up nicer than before.
"Only if you'd like it to be, April."
Jackson's mouth had turned upward into its signature smile, green eyes beaming at her so beautifully that she was stunned into silence by the power of them alone. His answer? That was merely the icing on the cake. And yet it was absolutely terrifying all the same.
He popped his last mouthful of pasta into his mouth in the most casual way possible, April's plate still having a few scraps of lettuce and the squash in the sauce that she'd picked around. But she set her fork down, taking a deep breath before she could voice any kind of response.
"Maybe I'll take that glass of wine now."