Chapter Twenty

Tuesday;

I had barely made it through three slides when, out of nowhere, a loud bang echoed through the room. I jumped, my fingers freezing mid-typing as I looked up. What the hell?

Prof. Montgomery slammed her mouse against the desk again, this time with even more force, her eyes locked in frustration. She yanked it side to side, the plastic scraping angrily across the wooden surface. "Come on!" she muttered, her voice tight with annoyance.

When that didn't work, she resorted to smacking the side of her computer screen—hard. The sound of her palm repeatedly hitting the screen made me wince. "Work, you stupid thing!" she growled, still thumping the mouse against the desk like it was her mortal enemy.

I couldn't help it—a snicker escaped. "I don't think slamming your mouse is gonna fix it."

Her head snapped towards me, her eyes narrowing into icy slits. "Maybe I should slam your face against the desk to get your brain to work." Her words were sharp, laced with a venom that made my stomach drop.

She turned back to her computer, continuing her assault on the poor mouse, while I quickly lowered my gaze, suppressing any further remarks.

There's no way she actually just said that to me. Then again, why am I even surprised at this point?

Prof. Montgomery let out a loud, frustrated groan, snatched up her phone, and stormed out of the office without another word. The door closed with a solid thunk, leaving the air thick with tension. I exhaled, releasing the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Five minutes later, she reappeared, her heels tapping against the floor as she grabbed a few books from her desk. "I have a lecture now," she said flatly, stacking them in her arms. "Someone will be here soon to fix this stupid computer."

I glanced up, nodding silently, unsure whether she expected a response.

"Feel free to leave and come back when he's done," she added, not even bothering to look at me, her words trailing over her shoulder as she headed back out the door.

I worked quietly, the soft clatter of my typing the only sound in the now-empty office. The steady rhythm was almost calming until the door creaked open. The technician strolled in, toolbox in hand. He gave a polite nod as I greeted him, then immediately set to work on Prof. Montgomery's rebellious computer.

I grabbed my wallet and slipped out of the office, leaving my laptop and notes scattered across the desk. No point in packing anything up since I'd be back soon anyway.

As I reached the fountain, I spotted Lea sitting on the bench, looking completely serene, as though time itself didn't affect her. She sat there lazily, one leg crossed over the other, her head tilted back to catch the faint breeze. She seemed so untouched by the day's chaos that I couldn't help but feel a little envious.

"Did you miss your lecture?" I asked, dropping down next to her with a huff.

Lea turned her head towards me, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, I overslept," she snorted, not a shred of guilt in her tone.

I chuckled, shaking my head in amusement. "Figured that happened."

Without warning, Lea sprang up from the bench, her eyes lighting up mischievously. "I want to introduce you to some friends I made," she announced, her smirk widening as she glanced back at me.

I raised an eyebrow, curious, but stood up. "Alright, lead the way," I said, bracing myself for whatever she had planned.

The roar of Lea's motorcycle filled my ears as we sped through the streets. Wind whipped against my face, and I clung to her back, my heart racing. This wasn't what I had in mind when she said she wanted to introduce me to her "friends." But here I was, on the back of her bike, navigating the streets until the buildings gave way to trees.

We slowed down and stopped near the edge of a dense forest, and confusion settled in. This was... unexpected. My mind wandered to a very dramatic scenario. Please don't let Lea be a secret serial killer, I thought. If she murdered me here in the woods, Prof. Montgomery would probably kill my spirit for not showing up to her office later. The irony wouldn't be lost on me.

Lea hopped off the bike, casual as ever, and motioned for me to follow. Reluctantly, I trailed behind as we ventured deeper into the woods. A small river came into view, its waters glistening in the sunlight. I paused, looking around the clearing, but there was no sign of anyone.

"Where are your friends?" I asked, a bit bewildered.

Lea lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before shouting, "Mother is here!" Her voice echoed through the trees, and I furrowed my brows. Mother?

Then, out of nowhere, a group of geese came swimming towards us, honking wildly as they approached. I blinked, barely processing what was happening. Lea crouched down, grinning at the birds like some kind of animal whisperer.

"Wait," I chuckled, realization dawning, "You made friends with a couple of geese?"

Lea gave me a sideways glance. "These aren't just geese," she said, taking another puff. "These are my children."

I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself. Of course, Lea would have a gang of geese as her "children."

With her cigarette wedged between her fingers, Lea dug into her bag, her movements becoming more frantic as the geese closed in. Their honks grew louder, a menacing chorus as they paddled eagerly towards us.

"Uh oh," she gasped, her fingers rummaging desperately through her things. Panic flashed in her eyes as she looked up at me. "Dude, run! I forgot their bread!"

Before I could even process what she said, Lea leaped to her feet and sprinted toward a nearby tree, cigarette still clutched in her hand like she was preparing for the apocalypse. Without hesitation, I bolted after her, my heart racing as the geese quickened their pace, honking like an angry mob.

I watched in disbelief as Lea began scaling the tree with her cigarette, which dangled precariously from her lips. This woman was unbelievable. I didn't have time to think twice—I scrambled up after her, fueled by the irrational fear of being mauled by a flock of geese.

"Lea, hurry!" I shouted, the squawking growing louder behind us. Just as I neared her on the tree, she let out a pained cry.

"My eyes! My eyes are burning! I can't see!" she wailed, clinging to the trunk. Somehow, by sheer willpower, that cigarette stayed lodged between her lips. I didn't want to know how, I was too focused on surviving this ridiculous moment.

"Move it!" I yelled, trying to urge her higher up the tree. She squinted down at me through watery eyes, her face twisted in pain.

"Dude, I can't see!" she whimpered, her voice muffled as she tried to speak around the cigarette. "The smoke made me blind!"

This girl was going to get us both killed by geese, and I absolutely wasn't ready to meet my end at the hands—or wings—of a bunch of birds. "Drop the damn cigarette!" I shrieked, casting a glance down at the ground, where the geese had formed a feathery circle of doom around the tree.

"Hell no!" Lea shouted back, stubborn as ever. "I'd rather stay blind!" She finally managed to pull herself up onto a thick branch, settling in while the cigarette still dangled from her lips. Her eyes, red and watery, squinted as she looked down at the angry geese below us.

I climbed up after her, finding a sturdy branch next to hers and sat down, letting my feet dangle as I caught my breath. I could still hear the geese honking, flapping their wings in irritation. "I cannot believe we almost got killed by birds," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.

Lea, always nonchalant, chuckled through her puff of smoke. "They're just overeager," she said, her voice casual as if we weren't stranded in a tree surrounded by an army of geese. "You'll learn to love them eventually."

I glanced at her sideways. "Yeah, that's gonna be a hard pass from me," I scoffed. "Your 'children' just tried to murder us."

"They're passionate," she smirked, flicking the ash from her cigarette into the wind. "They just want the bread."

I leaned back against the tree trunk, staring at the treeline above and wondering how on earth we were supposed to get back to Lea's motorcycle. The geese had us completely surrounded, and I had no idea if they'd just wander off or keep us hostage in this tree forever. How long could we even sit up here before one of us had to make a break for it?

Minutes crawled by, and finally, the geese seemed to lose interest. They started waddling away one by one, honking quietly to themselves. "See? Not so bad," Lea smirked, looking proud, but the smug look on her face vanished in an instant when one goose, bigger and more curious than the others, wandered toward her bag.

It shoved its head inside, rummaging around like it owned the place. For a split second, I thought it might just leave after sniffing around. Then, in one swift motion, the goose pulled its head out, something clenched in its beak.

Lea's eyes widened in horror. "No! My ham sandwich!" she screeched, her voice filled with sudden panic. Without hesitation, she scrambled down the tree, cigarette still hanging from her lips as she raced to the ground like her life depended on it.

I blinked in surprise, then quickly followed, climbing down as fast as I could to try and keep up with her. "Lea, it's just a sandwich!" I called out. The goose, sensing the chase, took off waddling at top speed, sandwich still firmly in its grip.

I sprinted after the goose, legs pumping as fast as they could manage, wondering why Lea was so desperate to save half a ham sandwich. Was it really worth all this chaos?

Then I noticed something—the sandwich wasn't just exposed, it was still wrapped in a plastic bag. That's when it clicked. Ah, that's why she's so worked up. It wasn't just about the food, she was trying to save the poor bird from choking on plastic.

But before either of us could get anywhere near the goose, it made a break for the water, waddling faster than I thought possible. It reached the river's edge and, in one horrifying gulp, swallowed the entire sandwich—plastic and all.

"Did... did that goose just swallow it? Plastic bag and everything?" I stood there, stunned, blinking in disbelief as the goose casually swam away, completely unfazed by its crime.

"My sandwich!" Lea wailed dramatically, falling to her knees like someone had stolen her very soul. She threw her arms up toward the sky. "Why!? Why must this happen to me?"

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at her over-the-top despair. "It's just a sandwich," I muttered, though I couldn't stop shaking my head in disbelief either. This whole situation had gone from absurd to ridiculous real quick. Was she really going to cry over a stolen sandwich? I mean, sure, I kind of get it, but this was a bit much.

Lea dramatically pushed herself up from the ground, dusting off her pants with more flair than necessary. "I am putting each and every one of you up for adoption!" she shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the now indifferent geese. They stared at her like they couldn't care less, and that only fueled her rage. She zeroed in on the goose that had devoured her sandwich. "And you," she growled, her eyes narrowing like some vengeful villain, "I'm taking you to the slaughterhouse!"

I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching her go off on a full-blown tirade at a bunch of clueless birds. She looked ridiculous, but the intensity was... impressive? Borderline terrifying, actually.

When she finally finished, she turned back to me, her face lighting up with a carefree smile like nothing had happened. "I feel better now. Let's go," she said, snatching up her bag and striding back toward her motorcycle.

I followed her wordlessly, still in shock, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions I had just witnessed. How did we go from a sandwich to a slaughterhouse threat so quickly?

Back on campus, Lea and I split up. She had a lecture to catch, and I had to drag myself back to Prof. Montgomery's office. Hopefully, by now, the technician was finished. I wasn't keen on walking in and awkwardly hovering while they worked.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of Prof. Montgomery back in her usual spot, fingers flying across the keyboard. Looks like she ended her lecture early, and more importantly, her computer was up and running again. I slipped into the chair with a sigh, brushing a hand through my hair. Time to dive back into work.

Just as I started to settle in, her voice cut through the quiet. "What is that?" she asked sharply.

I blinked in confusion, glancing up. "What is what?"

"Your arm," she clarified, nodding toward it.

I glanced down at my arm, not noticing anything unusual at first. What was she talking about? But when I twisted my arm to check the other side, I spotted a nasty cut running across my skin. What the hell? My adrenaline must've been sky-high when I was running from those geese, because I hadn't felt a thing.

"Go clean that up before you make a mess in my office," Prof. Montgomery said, pointing sternly toward the door.

I nodded, a bit dazed, and stood up from the chair. Without another word, I hurried out, heading straight for the restroom. How did I not notice that? The cut stung slightly now that I was aware of it, but more than anything, I just wanted to get it cleaned up before I drew any more attention to myself.

After rinsing off the blood as best I could, I returned to Prof. Montgomery's office. I sat back down, propping my elbow on the desk while I skimmed through one of the pages marked with sticky notes. The sting of the cut had dulled slightly, but it was still there, nagging at the back of my mind.

A few minutes passed before I heard her voice again. "I told you to clean that up," she said, her eyes fixed on my arm.

"I did!" I protested, twisting my arm to check. But sure enough, the cut was still oozing a little, blood smeared along the skin. I hadn't cleaned it well enough.

Prof. Montgomery sighed in exasperation and stood up, striding over to one of her bookshelves. She opened a small cabinet at the bottom and pulled out a first aid kit. Without a word, she walked over and placed the kit on the desk in front of me.

"Clean it properly," she ordered, flipping the kit open and pulling out some antiseptic wipes and bandages. She hovered over me like a disapproving parent, making sure I didn't mess up again.

I grabbed a wipe, glancing up at her briefly before starting to clean the wound. It stung more this time, now that the adrenaline had completely faded. I could feel her gaze on me the entire time, making the moment even more awkward than it needed to be.

After what felt like an eternity of her staring me down, Prof. Montgomery seemed to lose interest. She stood up and returned to her desk, resuming her furious typing, as if tending to a student's injury was just another inconvenience.

I sighed in relief, glad the pressure was off, and finished cleaning the wound. It stung less now, just a dull ache. But the cut was long—too much for a simple plaster. I grabbed the roll of bandage from the kit and unrolled a bit, my fingers fumbling slightly as I tried to figure out my next move.

The gauze came first, obviously. I pressed it against the cut, holding it there with my fingers. But now, the tricky part. How the hell was I supposed to wrap a bandage around my arm while also keeping the gauze in place?

I groaned inwardly, shifting in my seat. My hands were definitely not built for this multitasking. With one hand holding the gauze, I tried to manage the bandage, but it wasn't cooperating. The roll slipped from my fingers, unspooling a bit on the floor.

Of course. Perfect.

Glancing over at Prof. Montgomery, I briefly considered asking for help, but quickly discarded the idea. She was focused on her work, typing away like the fate of the world rested on her finishing whatever it was she was doing. I doubted she'd be too thrilled to play nurse again.

Resigned, I fumbled with the bandage again, trying to wrap it as best I could without losing the gauze in the process.

After countless failed attempts at wrapping my arm, I gave up, frustration prickling at the edges of my patience. I glanced at Prof. Montgomery, sitting at her desk, fully engrossed in her work.

Swallowing my pride, I called out hesitantly, "Professor, can you... can you help me with this?"

She didn't even look at me right away, just sighed softly as if I'd asked her to run a marathon, then finally pushed herself up from her chair. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she approached, her expression bored.

Wordlessly, she grabbed the bandage from my hand. "Hold the gauze in place," she instructed curtly. I obeyed, holding it down where I thought it needed to go.

"No, not there," she said, shaking her head with mild irritation. She moved the gauze higher, causing a sharp sting.

"Ouch," I winced, my fingers twitching. She rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed.

"Don't be such a baby."

Biting my tongue, I didn't argue as she began wrapping the bandage tightly around my arm, her movements quick and efficient. "Move your fingers," she ordered, her tone clipped. I shifted my hand out of the way as she continued wrapping. Her hands were steady, no-nonsense, clearly used to getting things done.

After a few moments, she secured the bandage with a small piece of tape and stepped back, surveying her work. "Thanks," I muttered, glancing down at my now neatly bandaged arm.

She waved me off as if it was nothing and returned to her desk, already back in work mode before I could even properly express my gratitude.

I began tidying up, carefully capping the disinfectant bottle and tucking everything back into the first aid kit. Snapping it shut, I walked over to the bookshelf where Prof. Montgomery had retrieved it from, bending down to place it neatly back into the small cabinet at the bottom.

With everything cleaned up, I dragged myself back to the chair, letting out a small sigh as I sat down. The book lay in front of me, waiting for my attention. I pulled it closer, trying to focus, but my mind wandered, drifting back to the absurdity of the day.

If someone had told me this morning that I'd be chased by a flock of hungry geese, forced to climb a tree for safety, I would've laughed right in their face. Yet here I was, nursing a cut on my arm as a reminder of just how real it had been. Those geese didn't mess around. Unless we came prepared with food next time, there was no way I'd be going back to that river. They looked like the kind of creatures that would trample you without hesitation—or worse, band together and drag you into the water to drown you.

I found myself smiling softly at the thought, shaking my head in amusement. Despite the chaos, it had been a fun day. A bizarre one, but fun nonetheless.

I felt a surge of gratitude for Lea. It had been so long since I'd had a friend like her—someone who accepted me despite my quietness. Since Anna, I hadn't let anyone in like that, but Lea had been persistent, and now, here we were. She didn't judge me for my shyness, and I was slowly coming out of my shell because of it.

Quiet, sure. But beneath the surface, there was so much more to me—something Lea was starting to discover.