Chapter 9:
Coffee and Kindness
I tried as hard as I could to advert my gaze from Charlotte. I didn't want the third degree from her of all people. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to know what had transpired between my Professor and me. It was like a special treat that I devoured in the dark by myself. Soon enough, before she could utter a single word to me, our professor hurried into the room. I had never felt more relieved to see another professor that wasn't Professor Kelly. Our class breezed by, and sure enough, Charlotte's barrage of questions pummeled me in the face. I cut her off, "Just one thing, please. Please do not judge me." At this point she squealed and pleaded me to spill the beans. I told her only that he wished to walk me to class, about the umbrella, and how attractive he was soaking wet during class.
She swooned, "I bet you would have loved to caress his glistening body!" She pretended to fall into my arms and I to hers, panting wildly. We giggled up a storm. Nothing would have pleased me more to touch him softly. She gave me a sultry look, "So what is taking you so long? Just grab him and bring him towards you! Let nature take its course, your actions will do the talking!" Charlotte grabbed at my shirt, yanking me to crash into her body. I laughed and caressed her face mockingly. She winked at me, released me, and as we walked down the stairs and out the door I had this sinking feeling. Could I, perhaps, be way over my head? Am I ready for something like this? Charlotte clasped my hand into hers, stopping our stride. She kissed my knuckles lightly, "Don't worry about anything, my darling. I will always be here for you no matter what."
I blushed hard, "Oh! Uhm…t-thank you, dear." Her soft lips' warmth were still lingering on my skin; forever branding that knuckle as hers.
She was so sincere, so sweet. It hurt me to be talking like this to her, especially when I know how much she cares for me. She is currently in a relationship that she is not sure if it would benefit her to stay in. It is her choice to stay, and she chooses to stay time and time again. She has never actually told me that she was unhappy in her relationship, she just isn't sure if she wants to be so committed right now, at such an early time in her life. I understood what she thinks; it makes perfect sense in her case. I always have this overbearing chain of guilt whenever she shows affection towards me. I know that she isn't outwardly cheating on her boyfriend but it makes me wonder of how she shows regular friendliness. I know for sure that she is a touchy feely kind of person, so it would make sense for her to behave this way. I can't help but notice a certain contentment she radiates when she is with me, that she lacks when she spends time with her boyfriend. I noticed this one day when we were all eating at a diner. She had an easier time explaining her feelings toward a subject to me than to him; when her boyfriend left to use the bathroom Charlotte told me a hilarious story. When he came back, she had a hard time choosing her words…like it were the first time telling the story. It was odd to watch her try to search for the idea that she clearly illustrated to me not even a minute ago.
We walked along the path to the parking lot, I was walking backwards tripping over little pot holes that Charlotte failed to warn me ahead of time. She continued to tease me about my Professor and I passively played along with; my umbrella scraping the ground as I waddled backwards in front of her. I suddenly drifted off into another world, Could I be rationalizing something too crazy to exist? I really doubt he feels anything for me; it is safer this way to keep things like this to myself and try not to leak any emotion. It is going to be incredibly hard, but I must try my best.
"Mae! Hey! Are you still with me?" Charlotte puffed her cheeks out at me, frustrated that I was zoning out, "Jeeze, you should get an astronaut suit or at least the helmet, 'cause you are one huge space cadet!" She laughed and spread her arms wide, like a plane and zoomed around, teasing me. I joined her for a bit then almost doubled over in laughter. I always have so much fun with her; the whole world seems to melt away. We both regained our composure and sighed in delight. I looked at her, she looked at me and she whispered, "Why can't life be easy like how we are together?" I shrugged, still out of breath.
She smiled at me, closed her eyes, and opened them on something peculiar; her face tensed up and pupils dilated. I couldn't tell if she was struck by fear or bewilderment. I noticed we were out in the middle of the street, and for fear of getting struck by a car I literally jumped out of the middle and ran to the sidewalk. She gave me a queer flick of her eyes and head check to the object of her possession. Sure enough, my Professor was walking nonchalantly, in our direction. Charlotte smiled mischievously, "Do you want me to flag him down?"
I ran back over to her side, frantically and mouthed at her, "NO!"
Without a hitch she signaled her hand toward him, "Hey Professor!" My hand covered my forehead in embarrassment as she wildly attracted my Professor's attention. I was way too humiliated to even look at him as I heard his quickening foot falls inching closer to us. I thought he parked by the building behind me. Why is he walking toward his car now? I unwillingly turned to his direction, and smiled as sweetly as I could muster through the deafening ache of my heartbeat.
I shot my friend a quick, angry glance and breathed, "Hey there. How are you?" Immediately, I noticed his change of clothes; where his damp coral shirt was, a grey polo took its place, underneath a dry black suit jacket. His khakis were now stunning black denim jeans. He waved at me in a friendly excited manner, like a puppy welcoming its returning master. Master huh? I never thought I could pull of being his master…c'mon Mae! Focus! I giggled as if remembering a joke and Charlotte raised the right side of her lips at me.
He adjusted his bag a bit and scuttled in front of us, "I am doing alright. What are you two up to?"
Charlotte shook her head wildly, "How can I be so rude? I never introduced myself to you before! I am Charlotte, Mae's girlfriend." He quickly smiled and shot a curious glance my way. His adorable smile sparked into a sensual grin.
I jumped almost all the way in front of her, blocking her hand from extending toward him, "Not like that! We aren't a couple! She's just being weird. Haha, i-it's a joke!"
I backed away cautiously to her side again and Charlotte reaffirmed, "No, we are not together. For the time being." Mouth agape, I glared at her, hard. She stuck her tongue at me and reached her hand out once more, it met his, and they shook hands. She looked into his eyes, "Wow! That's a nice grip! Professor…." You already know his name you idiot.
He beamed warmly, "Professor Kelly! Thank you, my mother taught me well. I can say the same for you as well. You are among the few women to reciprocate the same strength within a handshake!" I could feel her grin; I knew Charlotte thought of me in that instant. They parted and I looked at the ground, then at her, awkwardly.
Charlotte thrives on these sorts of situations that I lack in finesse in, "So! I noticed you didn't get caught in the rain, even though you are missing an umbrella? Do you run that fast, Professor Kelly?"
She teasingly giggled and he smiled, "After exiting the English building I realized that I had some emergency dry clothes in my office." Good to know Professor.
She snickered, "Emergency? Well, I guess you never know. You don't want to get sick."
I nodded, "Yeah, I always have a set of clothes in my trunk just in case."
He held his hands up, palms outward, "See? Not that strange!" I laughed and she nodded skeptically. I drew a circle in the ground with the toe of my shoe and looked at my goofy Professor, my wonderful Professor. He slipped his fingers through his hair and chuckled.
Charlotte turned to me swiftly, winked and smiled at my Professor, "What are you doing now?"
He stopped twisting his fingers, frozen in a strange trance, "Oh uhm, nothing really. I was just going to go home and feed my ca-" He blushed, "I-I mean, watch the game!" His last words were actually shouted at us and I could feel his nervousness. His eyes dimmed in disappointment, embarrassed for his own masculinity.
Charlotte playfully giggled, "Oh really? You wouldn't want to come with us? We are going to a small Café down the street from the school. It usually has an awesome live performer and yummy coffee!"
Still trying to regain his dignity, "Oh, is that so? That actually sounds good. Do you mind if I join you?" His eyes immediately search my face for an answer, completely ignoring Charlotte's existence; even though she was the one who asked him the question. I stood stupefied at her inquiry and nodded numbly; like a deer in headlights I followed the faint glow.
I walked to his side; and her to his. She kept him busy with all sorts of questions, most of which I already knew the answer to; feeding my ego of knowledge pertaining to my Professor…my sweet Professor. Now and again I would put my two cents in, only to withdraw back onto the sidelines, completely content with listening to the silly banter they were thoroughly engaged in. Charlotte tried to drag me back into the conversation as much as possible, trying to ask my opinion on something. I would push to sense how my Professor felt on the subject by his tone of voice and try to match that same attitude. He asked how long we knew each other and she went off onto a full in depth explanation that was entertaining. Most of it was fabricated, but she could make it sound so real; like even though I was the one experiencing it, she could persuade me to doubt my own memory. I played into her strange tale of mischief and romance. She weaved a fable of two people who were destined to meet, but obstacles would present themselves. The two warriors would cut down anything, or anyone, in their paths that tried to force them apart. She really should have been born in ancient Greece, they would love her epics. We all laughed together and she ended it with, "In all seriousness, Mae is a beacon of light in a very dark cave. She has a heart of gold and sticks to her guns."
I slowed my pace a bit and he nodded, then peered down at me, "Yes, I get the feeling she's a tough cookie." They spoke as if I were somewhere else. She is really good at doing that; but in a way, I am happy that she can talk like that.
Charlotte snorted, "Yeah, but she can also be a big pain! Always studying! We never get to hangout, and when we do she always has to be home early to do some sort of school work. I mean, c'mon. You are young! Act like it."
I fidgeted with my bag a bit and heat rose to my face. He could tell I was self conscious and proudly stated, "I am like that too. I love to hole-up in my room or something and read," He looked at me, "you shouldn't be ashamed of something that makes you so beautiful and clever."
'Beautiful'? All of my hairs stood on edge and I stared into his eyes as they darted away from mine. He thinks I am beautiful? My ears warped all sound around me and played back his last sentence over and over. Charlotte's voice wasn't cohesive underneath the thick wall of glass my mind put up to cancel out all noise. I heard his laughter and snapped back into reality; his laughs were sharp and sounded strained. Charlotte was no doubt poking fun at his last statement.
Just in time, we quickly approached the Café and I held the first door open and he held the second for us. The aroma of ground coffee beans filled my nostrils with nutty richness. I only became accustomed to the taste of coffee this semester because I knew that all the energy drinks I had were not helping, so I switched to a more socially acceptable outlet to obtain my caffeine fix. I entered the line and contemplated my vast array of choices; even though I was sure to get my usual iced vanilla brew with a blueberry muffin. I looked to my right and Charlotte giggled into my ear, "Isn't this wonderful! It is like a dream come true, right?" I nodded, my eyes filled with childlike wonder. I placed my order and waited at the end for my coffee, letting the live music to sweep me away.
The performer was a young man, about 25, with a soft raspy voice. He was singing alongside a classic acoustic guitar. His song was a bit melancholy; it was about a young boy who was teased until his best friend stood up for him, in turn he fell in love with the heroic boy. The chorus was: "I wanna tell you, all those crazy things, I wanna show you, how white are your wings". It was such a simple tune, which made the message more clear and powerful. I stood there, eyes closed, listening to the song.
"Mae!" I snapped my eyes open to Charlotte's voice crying out to me on my island. I looked at her, annoyed, and straight ahead to the hand that held my coffee. I muttered an apology to the young woman holding the cup, took it, and shrugged to my party. Charlotte just shook her head, and said something sarcastic to my Professor, which in turn made him laugh. I scurried, like a pill bug to an empty round table; that was to the right of the tiny stage and a couple of feet from the out cove where the bathrooms were. I sighed, humiliated, and dropped my junk next to me. The music filled my ears; the last of the song revealed the boy who was being teased with the crush on his friend committed suicide rather than be rejected. It was so sad, in the eyes of the lamentable boy. The melody consumed me, as I gazed upon my best friend and Professor chatting away. I spotted a muffin in his grasp; lemon cranberry zest. They seemed to be getting along well. Curtly, a small flame burst inside of my chest. It rose gradually to my cheeks. As I noticed how close their feet were, how much Charlotte was laughing, how engaging she was with him; how chummy they were. Envy spread to all corners of my body, igniting something disastrous that had been laying in wait. How can she act so lightly with him? She turned to take note of where our table was and she winked softly at me. I trust her. I really do.
They both received their respected cups and retreated to my table. A forced cute smile cracked along my face. They both sat down, my Professor across the table from me, Charlotte to my left. She turned to me, "We were just talking about how much of a shut-in you are!"
I nearly spat out my coffee, "Wh-what?"
My Professor finely peeled away the clear cling wrap on his delicious muffin and nodded, "Yes, haha, I found it funny. That is exactly how I am. Sometimes my family or friends have to pry me from the security off my room." I sighed in relief that Charlotte didn't snuff the light shared between my Professor and me.
Sipping on my coffee I adjusted my foot on top of the table stand and my Professor snapped his head up. I jerked my leg away realizing it wasn't the table's foot mine was resting upon, but my Professor's. "I am so sorry! I didn't mean to kick you…the tables here can be sorta cramped."
I looked away and he laughed, "Don't be so worked up. It really is okay."
Charlotte snarkily nodded, "Yeah, Mae. Relax will yah?" I kicked her leg, on purpose. She shot a queer look at me and I poked at my muffin.
I soothingly smiled, "This place really is great, right? Everything here is organic and made daily. It really is strange that it isn't expensive."
My Professor humored me, "I guess it is due to the cheap student labor here."
Charlotte sipped her tea, "Yeah, I bet they are never shorthanded. Who wouldn't want to work here?"
I tried to keep my mouth occupied with my food for as long as I could. Evading such trivial questions from Charlotte like: "How much snow do you think we will get this year", "What classes do you most enjoy", or "How did you do last semester". These were the staple of regular college student conversation. Our topics were light. I spent most of my time analyzing the body language of my mysterious counterpart. He seemed so entertained by whatever happened upon our lips, like if he had just mastered the English language and wished to hold any discussion with anyone. I wish I could be as passionate about the weather as he is. I studied his face; cheekbones sculpted like ivory peaks when he smiles, teeth slightly crooked when he speaks, eyebrows perched perfectly when in awe, a single strand of unruly softly curled burnt sienna hair dangling before his almond shaped oculus, traces of stubborn stubble lined his finely carved jawbone whimsically. He was ethereal. If I spoke too fast, or breathed too hard I was certain I would blow him away. I looked over at Charlotte, who had the floor, and she was talking regularly, but cast a sly grin in my direction.
The atmosphere wasn't uncomfortable, I would say, but whenever there was a pause in conversation the air transformed into something more earnest than just three friends casually having coffee together. I felt a sense of closeness with my Professor that I never knew possible. I sat dazed, fixated on how he breathed; wispy and yet elegantly poised. On how he drank his coffee; bending his head backwards, the underside of his beveled jaw turned upwards, his strong throat protruded and recessed with the trickle of liquid inside of it. It was amazing; like a private burlesque show only to me.
He smiled cautiously at me, "Something the matter, Mae?" I glanced over to Charlotte and she was grinning wildly. Was it my face? Oh no, please don't tell me I have been gawking at him all this time.
I shook my head suddenly and waved my hands manically, "No, no! Nothing is wrong! I was just thinking."
Charlotte rolled her eyes, "I shoulda known. This girl can't stay on Earth for more than a half hour at a time. I swear! She's the worst!" I smiled, a bit hurt.
He caught my sunken smile, "It's not a bad thing…" he chuckled, "…sometimes I spend ten minutes trying to think of the perfect word to use." He looked me straight in the eyes, "I like that about you. You take everything into deep thought and consideration."
I froze in time. I couldn't blink or breathe. It was like I was in suspended gravity and was stuck in one place in the universe without an outside force to direct me in any way. His eyes poured into me and I was addicted to the stingy sweet feel of his arctic stare. I opened my mouth ajar and a light groan escaped my lips. I looked shyly at my half devoured muffin. Charlotte kicked my foot under the table and I shot right up, looking suspiciously at her. She smiled innocently, "I know, but sometimes a regular conversation can be a rare thing! She tends to over complicate the trivial pleasantries of small talk. It can be sorta annoying to have to have an in depth conversation about most things we talk about, you know?"
My Professor nodded politely, "Your observations worry me, Charlotte. Don't you think you are being too critical on her?"
An icy chill sped up my spine as I felt the weight of his words. The austerity in his voice shattered my nerves and I could feel my face draining of color. He was dangerously serious. I cautiously tilted my head from the table to his face. His eyes, those piercing blues, were drilling into her like a bullet through flesh and bone. His agitation was concealed so poorly. She appeared to be calm on the outside. We all knew her insides were tremulous. My heart thumped wildly in my chest with anticipation of her defense.
Her sweet smile plastered slovenly onto her face, "You know it is all in just fun, right? She knows I don't mean to hurt her, right Mae?" Charlotte's voiced cracked at the utterance of my name and I nodded, in a still trance. The room's temperature increased tenfold and it was starting to get hard to breathe.
He remained unconvinced. Like a fortress he rebutted, "I am not so sure of that. A part of me knows that you are just kidding but the darker side of me cannot grasp that fact. Is it that you are jealous of her intellect?"
I slammed my eyes shut in that moment. How brazen can you be Professor? His words were harshly chipping at her defense. He seemed to be having a lighthearted conversation in his mind, unbeknownst to the damage he inflicted upon her. I have always known that she has envied my process of thought, that my grades were always better than hers, but it was no big deal. I couldn't come up with enough courage to call her on it, and this man -whom I have only been an acquaintance to- can, without remorse, unload this fact that has been buried inside of me so deep that I never wanted it to be resurfaced ever again. I sat there still as a corpse, my silence spoke louder than anything that I could be able to convey.
Charlotte grasped for the right words, "Uhm, no that's not the case! I know she is a better student than I am, and I guess I have always looked up to her for that, but I am not dangerously jealous of her. There is no way that I would attack her in such a way, in front of one of her professors no less. Everything I say, I thought, would be good for a topic of conversation…" like a child, she literally points her blaming finger toward me "…because she is one of the only things that you and I have in common!" So she is blaming her jealousy on me?
He didn't blink. He didn't move awkwardly in his seat like usual. I was terrified for Charlotte. I had mixed feelings at this moment; in one hand I was so enamored by his words that I cast away his blatant disregard for conventional social conversation, and in the other I was absolutely shocked that he could become this stone cold fortification who would pursue Machiavellian measures to assure his victory.
He traced the top of his coffee cup with a bored finger, breaking his hold on her. He shook his head, "That is no argument, to blame her for your short comings. I know it is easy to talk about her, but you don't have to be so harsh." Like you're one to talk Professor. His eyes lazily caught hers again and she uncrossed her legs under the table. She placed her hands on the table top in a relaxed manner. How is it possible for her to be so calm right now? This was a battle of respect. I admire my Professor for obvious reasons and I also admire Charlotte for her stubbornness. She will not let go of her case, like she had an actual shot at winning it. We all knew that she was going to fail, but she might as well go out with a bang.
I wanted to look away from him, but his protective aura gripped my attention. Something magnificent swam in his eyes; it was something deep, dark, and primal –almost like it had always been but in hibernation inside of him. His strength to guard me humiliated me humbly; the fact he has enough vigor to defend himself and me was overwhelming. I am the most defenseless person I know. I felt vulnerable for the first time in a while, but safe beside him. She spread her fingers out to grasp her coffee, lifted it to her mouth, drank, and contemplated her retort. She peered down at him; her pride was so thick and tangible that I could have bottled some up for myself. Smugly, she chuckled, "I know you are new to our interaction, but this is how things are between Mae and me. That's all it is! We are big ball busters she doesn't look it but she dish it as well as she can take it." Please don't put me on the spot. He nodded with a clear understanding but a glimpse of skepticism reflected in his eyes. She smiled charmingly, "I am sorry you felt that way, and I appreciate you standing up for her. I know she has a hard time defending herself. Thank you, Professor." He blinked quickly, surprised by her apology, cleared his throat, and the severe look on his face faded into the depth of his psyche. What a remarkable defense system; he can utilize it whenever he sees fit.
Professor Kelly's face softened, shoulders loosened, and stumbled over his words, "Oh! Uhm…it's o-okay, I don't…I mean…I guess. I get…I can sometimes be like this, it is really bothersome to me…" He laughed sheepishly "…sometimes I can get passionate over things that trouble me deeply."
Charlotte's ego deflated and she glanced over to me as if remembering I existed. I batted my eyes at her, blushing timidly. She sighed with tired eyes and whispered in my ear as she rose to go to the bathroom, "You're a lucky one." She trailed off into the hallway and into the lady's room. My rosy cheeks deepened, my Professor and I were alone at the table face to face. Breathe. I tore off a piece of muffin to refrain from speech and he took the cue to take another sip of his coffee. I looked closer at his neck; that was presenting itself to me. I could make out a little section near his esophagus shuddering; it was his heartbeat. I could see his pulse through the stretched skin and it was moving hastily. So he has noticed we are alone as well. His pulsating skin mesmerized me; it was so simple, so delicate, and so sensual.
The music in the background caught my attention. It was a beautiful piano piece. How romantic! I finished my muffin and he his coffee. I looked up at him and smile cutely, "You didn't have to do that, you know?"
He looked puzzled, "What? The coffee was good!"
I squeezed my lips together in a quirky frown, "No haha, I mean defending me like you did."
He placed his coffee back down on the table and sighed softly, "Yes, I know. I wanted to. I could not stand her berating you like that. I know you are wonderful, maybe not flawless, but she has to know that your mind is a gift. It's a gift that I and everyone around you are lucky enough to cherish."
I looked away from him, "No, don't say that. I'm no saint. I am no one different than anyone else. I can't even stand up to Charlotte. What kind of person am I?" How do I even measure against someone like him?
He brings his hand up, palm facing out, "That's not what I see. You just need the courage to do so. I know you have it in you, but why are you so afraid?" He places his hand back onto the table, calmly.
Slightly irritated I switched vision over to him, "What makes you say that? You don't even know what goes on in my head!"
He just smiled plainly, "I know, but I know you are genuine to the core. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You may be oversensitive to others but I know you have the power in you to speak your mind. You do so in class; I know it's there." His smile crept slowly into my heart; such a lovely and warm gesture. He shrugs, "Who knows? Maybe in time you might be as blunt as me! Haha, I didn't start this way. I knew that getting some points across you need to have less tact..." No, you are just completely tactless. "…I was just like you in college. I never had someone explain this to me. I transformed demeanor too late, you see. I was always taking things the wrong way, getting frustrated at the littlest thing. You had a small sample of that today..." I flinched. "…I see. I am sorry if I scared you. That is the person I wanted to leave behind. Through my studies and analyzing ideas more thoroughly I have achieved enlightenment. It only took me until my mid-thirties to realize this, but most things improve with experience." I was amazed by his monologue. I yearned to acquire an eighth of the wisdom he possesses, I didn't expect to receive and digest all of this in one sitting. He gestured his hands in my direction, "So, what do you think?" Honestly, I can't right now. I blinked feverishly, trying to respond in a scholarly fashion.
Charlotte slinked back to our table, only to pick up her bag and coat, "Oh guys, I'm sorry! My mom just called and I have to go home now. Don't worry about it. I parked over here anyway." What a snake. Was this her plan all along? She leaned in to give me a one arm embrace and whispered, "Play nice you two!" I almost socked her in the abdomen. Her face held a toothy grin, she waved to my Professor, "See you later Professor Kelly! It was fun!"
He gracefully reciprocated the wave, "Likewise, it was a pleasure." I watched her sashay away. I quickly glanced to my Professor and he was beaming pleasantly at me, "You were saying?" I gritted my teeth silently at myself; my heart beat quickening.
Trying to remain composed, I smiled sincerely, "I know I can sometimes be more reserved than I ought to be…" sarcastically he shook his head "…and I know that it might seem like I can't fight my own battles, but I just choose the ones I should fight. Charlotte's remarks do affect me, but I don't let that get in the way of our friendship; I will say something if she goes over the line, but that hasn't come yet."
He readjusted in his seat peering at me through the corner of his eyes, "Will you? When the time comes to speak up, will you know it?" I
nodded wistfully, "Yes, I have no problem speaking up when it really matters."
This topic leads to an extensive conversation about my younger sister and how I deal with her daily annoyances. He seemed to be more comfortable that the topic deferred from his life. I could sense it in his movements; whenever I asked about his family his shoulders seemed to stiffen and eyes were jarring. This fueled my curiosity and I longed to know more about him, he will tell me when he is ready. It's not his fault I am so open about my life. I watched as patrons came and went. Time elapsed in the blink of an eye. I wanted this moment to last forever; my Professor and I chatting in a café about god knows what. We seemed to meander into another conversation about politics, then history, then literature, then school.
I was so interested in his childhood education, "So tell me Professor, what first interested you in pursuing philosophy?"
He sipped his third coffee of the night and placed it back on the table, "Well, it was my mother. I always questioned why she was so hell bent on forcing Christianity on me; this lead to many one sided arguments, when I was only eight or nine. I always hated going to church because, like most children, I had no idea what I was learning. I became obsessed with knowing the truth. I read the bible, with some help from Webster, and tried to make sense of it, really I did! I just couldn't! I went to my mother for guidance but my questions infuriated her further because she had no answers. I went to my Pastor and he had no answers as well, that satisfied me; they both had answers but not the ones that I was looking for…" I bit the side of my new orange and mint muffin, enthralled by his voice, never losing eye contact. I was surprised how in depth and passionately he spoke "…I questioned a lot of things when I was younger. I read a lot of books, and never had any true friends. I tried to fit in with all the children my age, but was always baffled in the ideas they chose to belief. At a very young age I realized my own free will to believe whatever I thought made sense. I knew that Santa Claus was a fake because it just seemed illogical. This fought my inner child; I didn't want to toss away something that I knew to be false because I wanted to believe in the magic, the child like wonderment, that follows myths like Santa Clause."
I chuckled, "You seem like you were a profound child."
He laughed, "Yeah, it does look that way, cursed with a restless mind; reminds me a lot of you, Mae."
The corner of his lips curled upward as my name slipped through them. I nearly choked on the half chewed pastry in my mouth. I swallowed the chunk and cleared my throat, "Does it? I haven't noticed!" Half sarcastically, half nervously the words sputtered away from me, into his ears.
I could feel my hand start to shake so I jab it under my leg. I dove into his eyes, they locked furiously into me. My fingers quivered underneath my leg, feet began to shuffle with anxiety, and I searched his body for any sign of excitement. I noticed that is body language was serene but his eyes were frantic. You can't hide anything from me, my dear Professor. I glanced at my phone from my pocket, 5:52. He observed my actions and checked his own watch, "Oh man. Is it really that late? That explains why there is no one here. They are all eating dinner!"
I giggled sweetly, "Shall we go?"
He nodded, "If you don't mind! I mean, we are going to see each other tomorrow anyway." I smiled, nodded, threw out my trash, and his to be polite. He chuckled, "Oh thanks! You are so softhearted."
I picked up my things and threw my jacket on. He attempted to slide his blazer onto his arms, but one of his appendages folded into the wrong area. He struggled to fit his limb into the right hole, realizing it was on upside down. I turned to him, and burst out into a laughing fit. He stood, flabbergasted, the collar of the jacket by his backside, black fabric unnaturally contorted around his torso, and he shrugged. We both exchanged a series of giggles. I reached out to pull the stubborn cloth off from him; I retreated to his back, pulling at the back of his arms. I finally yanked it away from his body, turned it right side up, placed the shoulder region atop his broad expanse, and he smoothly slid each arm in its respected destination. I creased the wrinkles away from the sleeves; unbeknownst to myself I was gliding my hands around his midsection as well. I could feel the shape of his trunk, the bevels between rib into hip, the weight of his tissue; I could almost feel where his scapula faded into muscle. He lifted his arms gently, welcoming my searching digits. Entranced by these new sensations, I wrapped my arms around to the front of him, my fingers shifted over elusive pockets where hands kept warm, over to the glossy buttons. I toyed with each button with special attention, exploring each hole laced with black string, shifting each button to its perforation. I pressed myself gently against his back, my breasts softly compress into his body. I could hear his stifled gasp as my warm chest shifted against him. The first button was simple compared to the other two. My hands were trembling horribly by the last button; I was encompassed by the sound of his breath, heaving through his lungs. I could hear it crisply through his back. It was like the resonance of waves leisurely unfolding against sand; it was muffled as if I were listening to it through a thin wall.
I held my breath and his hitched lightly when the last button was comfortably fastened. I slithered my little arms away from his body, grazing the familiar fabric in the gentlest way. I regained my stagnant breath and took a half a step backward, parting indefinitely from his person. He turned around, facing me. Without a word I tinkered with the ruffled jacket around the lining to ensure a perfect fit. I took another half step backwards, admiring my work.
His smile beamed upon my face like a warm sun bath, "Enjoying yourself?" His voice was echoing gingerly through my mind.
I wagged my finger at him, "After you did so well putting it on, Mister?"
He teased, "Oh no! Please don't put me in detention!"
I stuck my tongue out, metal sparkling, "Maybe I will! Then again, what if you forget which shoe goes on which foot! Who would be there to repair you?" I noticed a faint pang in his eyes, a longing that was never before present. I put my bag on my shoulder and we merrily proceeded to walk back to campus.
After a good five minutes of pure silence he glanced at me, "You know, I remember my mother saying the same thing to me; something about how my wife will have a difficult time making heads or tails of me." I smiled but his faded, "No one has demonstrated such unexpected kindness to me."
He stopped walking; I turned to him, "Really? No one?"
He shrugged, "Well, nothing so out of the blue. People have always been kind, but to be kind for the sake of kindness itself is unprecedented. Thank you for being so sweet to me." I saw it. For the first time I understood what he was feeling: vulnerable.
He looked away from me, the corner of his eyes glistening. Maybe it was from discomfiture or the sheer fact of my gentle actions, but I could have sworn I saw tears welling up inside those mystifying eyes. I felt my body acting on its own; dropping my bag, strutting over to him, and throwing my small arms around his ribs. I dove my astonished expression deep within his chest, hiding my wide eyes. He encased his arms around my shoulders, letting his bag fall, pulling me close to him. He buried his face in my peach scented hair. I felt his nose brush tenderly against my tresses. I felt the delicate tremor of his heart beating; faster as time progressed. It felt like forever. It felt like home. I finally leaned outwardly a bit to speak, "I'm sorry…I just felt like…" His face still in my locks, I could feel his lips shifting sideways; he shook his head at me carefully not to disturb our position.
He sighed dreamily, "Don't apologize. There is no reason to."
I nestled into his chest again, breathing in his aura. He moved his hands up from my back to my shoulders and placed me away from him. I looked straight up at him, bemused, and he rested his lips upon my brow. He gave it a petite peck and I retracted my hands from his sides.
He smiled sincerely, "Thank you, Mae."
