One Perfect Professor Read online

  I took a deep exhale the second I got out the door and felt myself unclench my fists. I had been with Adam for so long that I had forgotten how nervous I used to...still did, get, around really hot guys. Since I had gotten serious with Adam, it had been like my hot man radar had been switched off. But Nate...

  Eh, whatever. Yes, I have a boyfriend, but there was nothing wrong in enjoying a little bit of eye candy from time to time in what otherwise would probably be an extremely snore-worthy lit class. Adam and I had joked about tiny little crushes we had on other people before. And this was just another one. What Adam and I had went beyond a physical attraction...it was deep, and wasn’t going anywhere.

  I stood outside the doors of the building and looked at my watch. Three o’clock. I still had a few hours to kill before dinner. Maybe I could go visit Adam? I looked down at my bag, and at the copy of Tender is the Night protruding out of it. The library was nice this time in the afternoon, quiet, but not too quiet.

  I think I’ll get an early start on my reading.

  Chapter Three

  I wandered up to the dining hall at six, still in a bit of a daze. I wasn’t typically a very sociable person after a long reading session...my brain was usually hard at work either on remembering facts or lost in a world far away...in this case, the world of socialites in France during the interwar period. However, I was still quite hungry.

  I meandered up to the assortment of tonight’s food under the glow of the yellow dining hall lights. I took some chicken breasts with alfredo sauce—not the best, but one of the more dependable fares our dining hall had to offer. I grabbed some garlic bread and mixed veggies to go with it and then turned to find Adam, Cristina, and Eliza sitting at our usual table.

  “Hey, I thought you were going to stop by after class,” Adam said.

  “Did we make plans?” I asked, suddenly concerned that I had accidently blown him off.

  “Nah, we didn’t, it’s cool,” he said, biting into his overcooked burger. “It’s just usually you do after a stressful day like this.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, sitting down across from him and next to Eliza. “I just decided to get a head start on homework.”

  “Typical Sabryna,” Cristina said, raising her eyebrows playfully at me from across the table. “You like your classes today?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Things went better than expected.”

  “Well considering you usually imagine the worst-case scenario, that’s hardly surprising,” Eliza joked.

  I smiled. Dinner was usually my favorite part of the day. I loved the family aspect of it. Since freshman year, I had been sitting down at this exact table with these exact three people, and knowing that they would always be there gave me a warm feeling that nothing else here on campus could compete with.

  “You had Morris for modernist lit, right?” Adam asked. “How was that? I’ve heard he’s ancient.”

  “Fine,” I said, feeling a sudden need to take a sip of water. “I think he’s going to let the TA do most of the work so he can go home and nap.”

  “Oh,” Cristina said. “I heard his TA is insanely hot. Was he?”

  “What?” I said. “Oh, um. I didn’t really notice.”

  “Mhm, well next time you should,” Cristina giggled. “I want a full report.”

  I smiled up at her politely and then continued twirling my fettucine around with my fork. I didn’t know why I didn’t feel like sharing my interaction with Nate with my friends, but something told me it just wasn’t the time.

  When we had finished eating, Adam took my hand and we began walking back to our dorm building. There was a full moon out, one that gave the whole campus a ghostly appearance.

  “Let’s chill in my dorm for a bit,” Adam said. “It’s the first day of the semester, you can’t have all that much to do.”

  “True,” I said, and smiled at Adam as he led me up the stairs. We walked into his room and cuddled up on the bed. I switched the TV on to the news while Adam grabbed a bag of chips. There was something lovely and domestic about this part of the day too—no matter how much stress happened during the day, Adam was always there to hold me at the end of it.

  ***

  The next day came, and by the time my first three classes were over with, I already felt like I was swamped with homework. I dreaded going back to modernist lit to get assigned yet another paper or hear another test announced.

  I also, sort of, was dreading making a fool of myself in front of the cute TA.

  I got to class early, as usual, and was surprised to find Nate there early as well. I had assumed after his rushed entrance yesterday that he would be the kind of guy to show up at the last possible minute.

  “Hey,” Nate said. “Sabryna, right? I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Sure,” I said, my heart leaping in my chest. His hazel eyes were magnificent even behind his glasses, and his muscled forearms were on full display since he had rolled up the sleeves of his red plaid shirt. I hated myself for feeling so flustered already.

  “Well I mentioned my book,” Nate said. “It’s all literature stuff, obviously, but it deals with the economics of Dickens, and as I said, a lot of it is lost on me. I could really use your help.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. Dammit, Sabryna, I thought. Can’t you think of anything interesting to say to him? He must think you’re a complete moron. “I’d be happy to help.”

  “Oh, good! Thank you so much,” Nate said. “Are you free this evening? I’ll treat you to coffee.”

  “Yeah!” I said little too quickly. Professor Morris walked in and laid down his briefcase on his desk, and the conversation came to a sudden halt.

  “I hope you got through the first half of Tender is the Night,” Professor Morris said. “Fitzgerald’s prose really is the most fascinating thing. Today I’d like to discuss the deliberate choices he made in how...”

  I barely heard a thing Professor Morris said during the entire lecture. I was too terrified from my conversation with Nate, and the rest of it that would inevitably follow. What had I just agreed to? He was so...he was just so pretty, dammit, that I had barely heard a word he had even said. He had said help, but then...coffee? But what kind of coffee, I thought, panicking, as my mind raced through the different possibilities. Was it compensation for my help coffee, or...was the help an excuse for a coffee date?

  I felt myself begin to panic. I have a boyfriend. Committed people didn’t go on dates, no matter what they were supposedly for. Should I back out? Should I tell Adam? Should I—

  Before I knew it, Professor Morris was dismissing us, and I had completely zoned out for the entirety of the lecture with all of my crazy thoughts. I saw Nate turn to me and my heart began to race.

  “Do you want to do eight p.m. at Daisy’s?” Nate asked. Christ, he was hot. So hot it was hard to look directly at him. Daisy’s was the coffee shop near campus. It was an ideal hangout for students who needed caffeine and a place to study later into the night.

  “Alright,” I said, feeling heat rush to my face. “I’ll see you there.”

  I walked out of the room with my heart thrumming in my chest. Oh my god...I’m actually doing this.

  Chapter Four

  The plan had been to casually mention my “date” to Adam during dinner...to explain it for what it was, if you will. It was me, helping out my teaching assistant with his paper.

  Strangely enough, Adam didn’t make it to dinner, neither did Cristina. Turned out they had a commerce lab this evening that they had forgotten about. I decided then that I would just let it slide. It wasn’t a big deal. Nope.

  Once I had finished my pizza and salad, I rushed back to my dorm room to get ready. I stuffed some of my intro economics books from freshman year into my bag, hoping that there might be something in there that could help Nate. I was about to run back out when I looked at my makeup bag and stopped myself. A little makeup wouldn’t hurt, right?

  The last couple of years I had gotten so comfortable wit
h Adam and so busy with schoolwork that I barely bothered with makeup anymore. It would be refreshing to put some on again...and why not now? I swiped on my favorite light magenta lipstick and some gold eyeshadow, and dug out my old favorite vanilla perfume to spritz across my wrists. Just as I was grabbing my bag, Eliza came in.

  “Damn, Sabryna,” Eliza said as she came in. “Hot date with Adam?”

  “Nah,” I said, as casually as I could, because this was most definitely not a date. “Just playing with my makeup a bit.”

  “Well, you look super cute,” Eliza said, and I dashed out the door before she could throw me any more questions.

  It was a breezy March night, one in which I still needed my red winter coat but I was still perfectly toasty with it unbuttoned. It was only a five-minute walk to Daisy’s, and I was already disappointed in myself because of how nervous I was. People with boyfriends do NOT get this flustered, I reprimanded myself.

  I reached the café and took a deep breath. I was five minutes early, per usual Sabryna protocol. I didn’t see Nate anywhere, so I went ahead and took a table in the corner. It was strange walking in here alone. I was used to coming to Daisy’s on winter afternoons after class with Cristina and her friends from the swim team. Since there wasn’t much for anyone to study yet, and there was an early in the week frat party going on, the place was nearly deserted. I ordered a cappuccino, collected myself, and sat back down.

  At eight o’clock on the dot, Nate walked in. He carried a brown messenger bag similar to my own, except his was worn brown leather, while mine was cloth and covered in patches and buttons. He had changed from class earlier today—he had traded his plaid shirt for a suave light blue button-down and navy pants. I nearly swooned at the sight of him.

  “Hey,” Nate said as I waved him over.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to dim my smile and keep from being too obvious. “I brought some of my econ books we can look at.”

  “That would be fantastic,” Nate said. “I’m gonna grab some coffee first. I’ll be right back.”

  I fiddled with my hands as I watched Nate go up to the counter and order a regular coffee. I went over my plan in my head. I would go over the basic principles first, get into some economic history, then...

  “Alright,” Nate said, suddenly returning. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

  “Good,” I said. “I did some studying and then I got dinner.” I reached into my bag and dropped the first textbook on the table with a thump. “Alright, so I thought maybe we’d—“

  Nate laughed. “Relax, it’s not a cram session,” he said. “I’ll just need some clarification on a few points; I’ll show you in my manuscript in a bit. I want to get to know you first.”

  “Oh,” I said, smiling. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know,” Nate said, raising an eyebrow. “What’s important for me to know?”

  I have a boyfriend and feel like I’m cheating. “Um,” I said.

  “Well, I know you’re very pretty and clearly very nice to help me out like this just for the sake of being nice. I really appreciate it,” Nate said. “But I’d like to know more.”

  I froze. Oh my god, he’s into me. Does he think I’m just helping out because I’m into him as well?

  “Well, let me think,” I said, my confidence spiking. “I like crossword puzzles, and old musicals, and dogs, and um...the alfredo sauce at the dining hall?”

  “Well you’ve got good taste,” Nate laughed. “But like...who are you, Sabryna? What do you want? Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

  I burst out laughing. “That’s deep. What is this, a job interview?”

  “Nah, but, you seem like a girl with a lot of potential, so I’m curious.”

  “I want to change the business world,” I said. “I want to work at a company and lead them to success. You know, be a CEO or a CFO or something. But not a greedy one. I think a company can be both successful and ethical.”

  “Well, you’re quite the optimist.”

  I smiled. “That’s me.”

  There was an awkward silence as I realized it was my turn to start asking a few questions. “So, what about you?”

  “Oh,” Nate said, as the tiniest hint of a blush rose in his cheeks. “Well, I graduated a few years ago, applied to grad school here, and now here I am back again.”

  “You missed it, didn’t you,” I said with a cheeky smile.

  Nate grinned. “Yeah.”

  “And what do you do outside of work?”

  Nate just laughed. “More work. I’m a teaching assistant for all three of Morris’s modernist lit classes, then I have grad school work, my book, and my two other jobs.”

  “Two other jobs?”

  “Waiter at Olive Garden and tutoring whenever I can fit it in,” Nate explained. “Grad school does not come cheap.”

  “I admire that,” I said. I couldn’t deny that I found Nate’s work ethic very attractive...it was in such stark contrast to Adam, whose parents financed his every whim and who crashed in his dorm for a nap whenever he wasn’t in class, if he even bothered to show up at all. “But what about the very few spare moments you have? What do you do then?”

  “Read,” Nate said without thinking.

  “English student, of course,” I said, smiling into my coffee cup. Maybe it was just the caffeine, but I had a funny feeling, some sort of deep excitement that made me feel like I was floating. It was the caffeine. It had to be.

  A silence fell and I began to fear the warmth I felt just being in Nate’s presence, so I decided to get to the point. “Show me the economic points in your book that you need help with, and I’ll see if I can find anything in these textbooks you can use.”

  Nate frowned a bit, as if he was disappointed with the more serious shift in our conversation, but acquiesced and reached into his bag to grab a heavily sticky-noted and highlighted manuscript. “It’s really nice of you to do this,” he said. “Especially considering you guys have that Fitzgerald paper due tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry, the what?”

  Nate looked at me, stunned. “Tender is the Night. Ten pages? Morris probably spent like half an hour talking about it.”

  “Shit,” I said, burying my face in my hands. How the hell did I miss something like that? I peeked up at Nate, his hazel eyes brimming with concern. Oh yeah, that’s why. “That didn’t even register with me for some reason. Oh my god. Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish I could,” Nate said. “Did you finish reading the novel, at least?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Alright then. Ten pages isn’t bad, especially for someone with your academic prowess.”

  I groaned. “An econ paper, maybe. But English is not my specialty.”

  Nate shoved his manuscript into his bag. “You can always help me with my book another time. I’ll help with your paper. It’s the least I can do considering how you’re helping me out.”

  “My TA helping me write a paper? That sounds a little...”

  “No one has to know,” Nate said under his breath, and the implication of his words made me jump in my skin.

  I was about to say no, but the thought of my GPA plummeting made me reconsider. “Okay,” I said with shaky breath. “Thanks.”

  I was about to unpack my notes on the table when Nate stopped me. “This is gonna be an all-nighter. We may as well go back to my apartment. It’s just off campus.” Nate started out the door.

  Without thinking, I followed.

  Chapter Five

  Nate’s apartment was in the Dunes, a cheap apartment complex just off of campus intended to appeal to students on a budget. Like most buildings named after geographic phenomena, there was hardly a dune in sight. The building was instead surrounded by cheap mom and pop pizza restaurants and floundering boutiques filled with scarves and handmade jewelry. Nate and I small talked as we made our way up the elevator. Usually grad students like Nate opted to live in the nicer apartments on the other end
of town, but I supposed Nate had chosen to live here out of convenience, and of course, to save money.

  Nate’s apartment was a one bedroom on the second highest floor. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked in, but it certainly wasn’t this.

  The place was a mess. A big, papery kind of mess. I mean, a whole forest worth of paper would be needed to make the contents of this room. Books were stacked in massive, teetering piles in every corner, and the walls were covered in a terrifying wallpaper of newspaper and journal articles, highlighted to death. It looked like twenty kids were cramming for finals at once in here.

  “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” Nate said, walking into the kitchen. “You want a coke?”

  “Sure,” I said, hardly comprehending what he was saying. I was too busy trying to glean as much information as I could from my immediate surroundings. Every time Nate turned away I found myself quickly reading through the spines of books or looking at crumpled papers on the floor. He had books on every subject you could ask for, but the ones that were most accessible—the ones at the tops of the stacks or already opened on the carpet—were all Dickens. Nate was a true academic. He wasn’t here for money or prestige, he hardly would have chosen English as a subject if that were the case, but he simply loved academia. I had a more organized, tidier way of dealing with the obsession, but I understood the need to be surrounded by information, to sort it and comb through it until my own original ideas began to break through the surface.

  In all this mess, I realized, I felt strangely at home.

  Nate haphazardly removed a stack of his own books and paper from a rickety card table and placed two cans of coke on it. “Go ahead and get yourself set up, let me find the book,” he said.

  I watched Nate go to a stack of books behind the TV, and smiled as he deconstructed the gigantic pile until he had located what he was looking for. I had expected just another copy of Tender is the Night, but was shocked when Nate had to make three separate trips to our table and back to carry all the books. He had all of Fitzgerald’s novels, short stories, letters to Zelda, biographies, as well as countless books on his work and the modernist movement.