The Professor (Book 2)

5: ... That Is The (answered) Question

Despite being 18, almost 19 years of age, I surprisingly wasn't that much of a relationship expert. I had my first boyfriend at the age of 15, to whom I lost my virginity to. A week later, he broke up with me, after confessing he just wanted to sleep with me.

After that emotional blow, it had taken me years to finally dare to date again, and at that point I had been too emotionally scarred already by watching my mom get discarded monthly by her boyfriends. I had decided then and there that I wouldn't look for a relationship, but that I was better off on my own, because men always let you down. (Hell, my father was proof enough of that)

That was, until I met Harry.

Sitting in my dorm room now, stress-eating a sleeve of Oreos, I was trying my best to focus on the text in front of me, but found my mind kept slipping out of focus and back to the conversation I had overheard two days ago.

I knew I shouldn't have listened at the door, but it was too late to change now; I had heard every word that Catarina and Harry had exchanged, and they haunted me everywhere I went.

For two days, I had mulled over their words. Harry's strong indifference to Catarina's being there, Catarina's desperate attempt to win Harry back into her favor.

And Catarina words about me to Harry.

These past couple of days had been the most confusing of my life, and trying to sort out the mess on my own had proven useless and impossible.

Nothing seemed to line up; The fact that Harry was here was one thing, then there was the chilly behavior he exuded towards me. Then there was Catarina also being here, somehow teaching here as well, and finally, the thing she had accused Harry of.

Changing his mind because of me.

What she had said had lined up with the reason that Harry had given me for being here—that he merely changed his mind after tutoring me and decided to try it out again on a whole group of young people. In other words, he changed his mind because of me.

But the way Catarina had said it had seemed far too pointedly. It had sounded different the way she had said it... almost smug in the way she had jabbed the words at him... tauntingly... jealously?

Was I overthinking things again?

Sighing frustratedly, I threw the empty bag of Oreos away and closed the book in front of me, giving up on studying.

My next class with Harry was tomorrow. No doubt it would be another torture session, watching him teach and listening to him drone on with that dead voice. But what was worse was, I couldn't exactly confront him with what I had heard. Because that meant admitting that I had snooped in on their private conversation.

But I also couldn't let go of Catarina's words. Had there been more to them than just the obvious?

Christ on the toilet, this was becoming an unhealthy obsession. Harry, him being here, laying more into every single thing that he did or said, not being able to let go, even when it seemed Harry easily had. It was torture for me, but I also knew why I was doing it.

Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips together as my mind took me back to the past summer. To when Harry and I had been stuck together in his house... all the rare moments that lingered in my memories like bittersweet champagne.

The pool... his study... his bedroom... the small glances, the way his jaw ticked when I triggered him. The tiny smiles he offered me when I teased him, or the way he always touched me so gently, just before pressing his lips to mine... taking my breath away and stealing my mouth with the sweetest of kisses.