I laughed and picked up my pizza too, feeling comforted. As I ate, Professor Grant cleared the greasy cheese from his chin and started the study session.
As he did, I felt eyes on me. I looked ahead and Alisha was glaring my way, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed.
4
Zara
The study group was pretty chill. Around 8 p.m., Professor Grant wrapped up on his notes, and everyone finished off the pizza and drinks. Some people decided to leave, but I stuck around to read over the notes I’d written while eating another slice of pizza. He was right about one thing—trying to budget time and money was a struggle. I’d had no idea what I was going to eat for dinner that night, so I was grateful for the pizza.
By 8:30 p.m., everyone else was gone except Alisha and Professor Grant. Alisha giggled while talking to him, and I rolled my eyes, writing down the last of my notes. When I looked back up, Alisha was standing closer to him, smiling wide. She giggled again and said, “You’re such a funny guy, Grant.”
I needed to go. Clearly, I was interrupting something.
I stood and packed my things, tossed my napkin and cup in the trash bin, and then slung the strap of my tote over my shoulder.
I started to walk past them, but Professor Grant’s voice stopped me. “Oh, Zara,” he called.
I paused mid-step and looked back. “Yes?”
“Do you think I can have a word with you?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure.” I turned to face him, and he switched his gaze to Alisha. “Alisha, I’ll see you tomorrow in class?”
“Definitely.” She smiled. “See you tomorrow, Cole.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. I hated how she called him Cole like she was his best friend or something. When Alisha was out the door, I took an anxious look around. It was only us. Alone. In a library. At night.
“Everything okay, Professor Grant?” I asked as he stepped closer.
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. And please, call me Cole. No need for formalities while I’m off the clock.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
“Anyway, I asked you to stay behind because I needed a reason to make Alisha leave.”
I broke out in a laugh at his blunt honesty, and he laughed with me. “Wow! Well, I’m glad I could help you with that.”
“That woman can talk, can’t she?” he joked. “So, the study group…what did you think? I think I should have them more often.”
“You should. I thought it was great. Very informative, and I’m sure it’ll help when it comes to writing our essays. I wrote a lot of notes. I’m actually looking forward to writing my piece now.”
“That’s good.” He smiled down at me, then he sighed and took a look around the library. “Well, I should clean this mess up before Mrs. Bale barges in here and points one of her cold fingers at me.”
“Ah. The librarian,” I noted. “Yeah, she’s a stickler about a clean, organized library.”
“That she is.”
I watched him walk to the table, still dressed in the black dress pants from earlier, shirt rolled up to his forearms. “I can help you…if you want,” I offered.
He peered over his shoulder at me and gave a smile. “I’d appreciate that.”
I set my things down by the door and went to help him, collecting empty, tipped-over plastic cups and dirty napkins. I went to the trash bin and tossed it all in there, then brought the bin back to the table.
Professor Grant broke down the pizza boxes and took them to a bigger trash can by the door. I got nervous as he came back my way, and I had no idea why. I guess it really hit me that I was alone with him, in a library of all places—one of my favorite places to be. A room full of books with the man of my dreams? Who wouldn’t want this?
I took note of all the places we could hide here, waltzing between the shelves, hiding in dark corners, lip-locked and tongue-tied. He could pick me up, press me against one of the shelves, and kiss me so deeply and passionately. I really needed to stop reading so many romance books.
“That should take care of that.”
“Huh?” I spun around, and my elbow hit one of the full cups of punch. “Oh, no! Shit!” I hissed, turning quickly to catch it, but it was too late. The drink had spilled and the red liquid was pouring on the hardwood floors. Ugh. Why was I so damn clumsy? “Oh, God! Mrs. Bale is going to kill me!” I rushed for the napkins, and Professor Grant hurried to me, helping to clean it up. “I’m so sorry,” I said quickly.
“No, no. It’s okay. It’s just a drink. Plus, it’s hardwood, not carpet, so that helps. We can clean this, no problem.”