Chapter Twenty Seven

Friday;

I trudged down the hallway, my footsteps heavy, with a lukewarm coffee cup cradled in my hand. My eyelids felt like lead, and each step took more energy than I could muster. The coffee was just for me—no extra cup for Prof. Montgomery. Not after what happened the last two times. Both times I had spent my allowance on a coffee for her, I watched her disregard it without a second thought. I was still bitter about that, I didn't have a job, and my allowance wasn't much to begin with. Wasting it on someone so dismissive stung more than I cared to admit.

Her office door was closed, but I didn't bother knocking. I twisted the handle, pushing it open, and strolled in. Prof. Montgomery looked up from her computer screen, her gaze sharp as her fingers paused over the keys. "Knock before you enter," she snapped, her voice cutting through the silence.

I gave her a sarcastic smile, my lips curving into something far from friendly. Slowly, I took a step back, exaggerating each movement, and rapped my knuckles against the doorframe, the hollow sound echoing in the small office. Then, without waiting for her permission, I strode over to the chair in front of her desk and plopped down, the chair creaking slightly under the sudden weight. I crossed my legs, taking a sip of my coffee, watching her over the rim of the cup.

The whole time, she watched me, a slight smirk playing at her lips, her eyes filled with something unreadable. "You're trouble, Ms. Wilson," she murmured, her voice almost amused, as if she found my antics entertaining.

I set the coffee cup down on the edge of her desk, raising an eyebrow. "Trouble?" I repeated, feigning innocence. "I thought I was being polite."

She leaned back in her chair, her smirk widening, a glint of challenge in her eyes. "If this is your version of polite, I'd hate to see what happens when you're being difficult."

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with challenge, and my instinct was to bite back.

"And what happens if I am being difficult?" I asked, my voice tinged with defiance as I leaned back in my chair, mirroring her posture. My heart pounded against my ribcage, each beat louder than the last. I could feel a flush creeping up my neck—whether it was from the coffee or the tension between us, I wasn't sure. Why am I doing this?

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze never wavering from my face as she studied me, a sly grin tugging at the corner of her lips. "I don't know," she replied, her voice almost a purr, "Why don't you try and find out?"

The way she said it, with that lingering smirk, made it clear she was toying with me. There was an unpredictability to her, a constant push and pull. I couldn't tell if she was serious or if she was simply baiting me, waiting for me to stumble. It kept me on edge, waiting for the inevitable sharp remark that always seemed to follow.

I was about to respond, a retort forming on my lips, when suddenly her phone rang, shattering the tension like a glass hitting the floor. Both of us jumped slightly, the abrupt sound breaking whatever spell had woven itself between us. She glanced at the caller ID, her eyes narrowing briefly before she picked up the phone.

"I was wondering when you were going to call," she said, her voice softening in a way I hadn't heard before, her smirk shifting to something more genuine. She listened for a moment, and a smile broke across her face—an actual smile, one that reached her eyes. "You're an angel," she chuckled, a lightness in her tone that made it feel like a completely different person was sitting in front of me. "Yes, I'm in my office."

I watched her as she spoke, the playful, almost cruel demeanor softening, as if a different side of her had surfaced for a moment. It was disarming. I found myself leaning forward slightly, trying to catch every flicker of emotion on her face. Who was on the other end of that call, someone who could make the normally stern and sarcastic Prof. Montgomery smile like that?

It made me wonder if there were more layers to her than she let on—something deeper beneath the facade of cold indifference and biting remarks. But just as quickly, she returned to her usual self, her eyes flickering to mine, her expression hardening as if she suddenly remembered I was still there.

I quickly averted my gaze, staring down at her desk as if the grain of the wood held some fascinating secret. My thoughts were still swirling, trying to wrap around what I'd just seen. A genuine smile—no sarcasm, no edge. It felt so out of character for her, and I couldn't help but wonder who could bring that out of her. Whoever it was, they had a side of her that the rest of us rarely got to see.

She ended the call, the click of her phone hitting the desk breaking my thoughts. Her demeanor shifted back to that familiar sharpness as she clasped her hands together, her eyes fixing on me. "Where were we?" she asked, her voice cutting through the room.

"Oh, uhm, you were about to give me something to do," I replied with a small smile, trying to bring us back to safer ground. That wasn't exactly true, but I needed to break the silence.

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering over me before she nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. She turned her attention to the papers scattered on her desk, shuffling them around, the rustling of pages filling the room. After a moment, she clicked her tongue in annoyance, and her eyes returned to me.

"Go grab one of the first-year books from the shelf," she instructed, motioning towards the bookshelf against the far wall. I stood, my chair scraping slightly on the floor as I moved.

I scanned the shelves, my eyes moving back and forth over the rows of old, worn textbooks. The spines blurred together, and frustration bubbled up as I struggled to find the book she wanted. After what felt like an eternity of searching, I still came up empty-handed.

"I don't see it," I said, glancing over my shoulder at her. She barely looked up from her computer, her fingers still tapping away. With an exasperated sigh, she replied, "Have you looked closely? It's labeled 'First Year.'"

"I'm not blind," I muttered, turning fully towards her, irritation lacing my voice. "It's not here."

She didn't even bother looking up. "Look again," she ordered, her tone indifferent. My eyes rolled almost involuntarily. "Why don't you get it?" I snapped, unable to hold back my annoyance any longer.

That finally got her attention. She let out an irritated huff, pushing her chair back with a deliberate slowness that sent a flicker of dread through me. "You don't order me around," she warned, her voice low as she rose to her feet.

My heartbeat quickened as she moved closer, each step measured, her gaze locked onto me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. Instinctively, I took a step back, the cold surface of the bookshelf pressing against my lower back, pinning me in place. There was nowhere to go.

She didn't stop until she was right in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her, her presence overwhelming. She leaned in slightly, her eyes dark, her lips curving into a faint, almost challenging smile.

My breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself as my pulse pounded relentlessly in my ears. I could see every detail on her face—her sharp cheekbones, the subtle glint of amusement in her eyes, the curve of her lips. She was so close I could almost feel her breath against my skin.

Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, her hand moved, brushing past my face as she grabbed a book from just beside my head. She stepped away from me, her eyes still locked on mine for a brief, lingering moment.

"Blind," she said with a smirk, her tone dripping with condescension, before turning on her heel and walking back to her desk. She sank into her chair, her attention already drifting away from me, as if nothing had happened.

I stood there, frozen, trying to steady my racing heart, wondering why the air in the room suddenly felt so thin, why it felt so hard to breathe.

Finally, I managed to move, my steps heavy as I made my way to the chair opposite her desk. I had barely sat down when the office door creaked open, drawing both of our attention toward it.

A woman entered, her presence filling the room with a different energy—confident, almost commanding. She looked familiar, her eyes sweeping over the scene before settling on Prof. Montgomery with a warm, knowing smile.

Prof. Montgomery pushed her chair back, her lips curling into a genuine smile. "Victoria!" she exclaimed with a light chuckle, her eyes brightening. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about me."

The woman—Victoria—let out an amused laugh as she stepped further into the room. "Of course not! Another professor stopped me on the way over." Ah, so she's also a professor. There was an easy familiarity between them, and her confidence was evident in the way she moved.

Does this university hire based on looks alone, or is actual skill a factor? I couldn't help but wonder, because Victoria, like Prof. Montgomery, was strikingly attractive. Maybe not quite on Montgomery's level, but still.

Victoria approached the desk, extending a cup of coffee, which Montgomery accepted with a grateful smile. "You're a lifesaver," she said, the warmth in her tone something I had rarely heard before. It was fascinating to see her interact with someone else—someone she actually seemed to care about.

Victoria glanced at her watch, her brow creasing slightly. "I've got a lecture in a few minutes," she said, already turning towards the door. She paused, looking back at Prof. Montgomery with a casual grin. "We need to grab lunch sometime. It's been too long."

Montgomery nodded, her expression softening. "Definitely. I'll message you."

Victoria gave a quick wave before exiting, leaving the door slightly ajar. The room felt quieter after her departure, and I looked over at Montgomery, curious about the change in her demeanor. It was like she had an entirely different side reserved for people she actually liked—kind, relaxed, almost human.

She took a sip of her black coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly when she caught me staring. "What?" she snapped, her voice sharp.

I raised my hands in defense, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Nothing," I replied with a shrug. "It's just... surprising to see you be an actual human being for once."

She arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "Oh? Would you prefer I be all sunshine and rainbows around you?" She leaned forward slightly, her gaze challenging. Honestly, I wasn't entirely opposed to that idea.

Before I could respond, she put her coffee down and let out a dramatic sigh, placing the back of her hand against her forehead. "Oh, Ms. Wilson," she began, her voice dripping with mockery. "Your presence brightens my day each time you walk into my office." She threw her head back slightly, feigning a swoon.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're mocking me," I muttered, shaking my head. Was she serious right now?

She continued her over-the-top act, her hand now pressed to her chest in faux shock. "Mocking you? Oh, I would never!" She batted her eyelashes at me, her face a picture of exaggerated innocence. "Mocking isn't something I do. It's not in my nature at all."

A genuine laugh slipped out of me, surprising both of us. It was rare to see her like this—playful and teasing. There was something delightful about it, like catching a glimpse of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"You can shut up now," she said curtly, the lightness gone from her voice as quickly as it had appeared. She returned to her usual self, her sharpness like a wall slamming down between us. I immediately clamped my mouth shut, my laughter fading, and began fidgeting with my fingers. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

She reached for a stack of papers and dropped them heavily in front of me. I looked at the stack and groaned. "More quizzes?" I muttered, feeling the weight of monotony settle in. "Can't I do something else for a change?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she gave me a glare that could have cut glass. "Yes, actually, there is something else you can do," she snapped, her gaze scanning the office as if searching for a different task. But after a moment, she looked back at me with an exasperated sigh. "You can stop complaining and just do what I tell you to do."

I sighed, resigned, and pulled the stack of quizzes closer. "Fine," I muttered, grabbing a pen. It seemed that lighthearted Montgomery was already a distant memory, replaced by the stern, unyielding professor I knew all too well.

The silence in the room had become unbearable, an oppressive force that seemed to fill every corner. Ten minutes had passed with only the sound of pens scratching on paper and the faint hum of the computer. I had an itch to say something, anything, but I hesitated, afraid she'd just shut me down again.

Before I knew it, the question slipped from my mouth, unplanned and unfiltered. "What do you like to do in your spare time?" I blurted out. I almost cringed at my own voice breaking the quiet, but a part of me felt that if I didn't ask now, I'd never muster up the courage again. You only live once, right?

She didn't look up from her computer, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the keys. "Reading," she replied, her voice even and detached. No elaboration, no warmth, just a simple answer. I nodded, more to myself than to her, and forced my attention back to the quizzes, determined to keep my mouth shut this time. The last two times I'd tried to engage her, she'd snapped at me. I wasn't eager to get bitten again.

Seconds passed, stretching into long moments, before her voice broke the silence. "What about you?" she asked, her tone softer this time. I looked up in surprise, my shock almost betraying me. Her eyes met mine, a flicker of curiosity in them. I had to quickly shake off my disbelief.

"I like reading too," I answered, a small smile tugging at my lips before I turned my focus back to the quizzes in front of me. My heart still raced, but this time, it wasn't from anxiety—it was from the unexpected warmth of her question.

I can't believe she actually asked me something in return. I'd expected her usual curt response, then nothing but silence after that. But here she was, making small talk. Maybe surprises do happen after all.

A few minutes before I finished grading the quizzes, I noticed Prof. Montgomery moving around her office, pulling a few books off the shelves. She moved with purpose, her eyes flickering between titles before she finally settled on the ones she needed. Grabbing her handbag from beside her desk, her gaze landed on me briefly.

"I have a lecture," she stated, glancing down at her watch before her eyes fell on the stack of quizzes in front of me. "How far along are you?" she asked, her voice calm but expectant.

"I only have a few left," I replied, lifting my eyes to meet hers.

"You can leave when you're done," she added, already turning towards the door. Without waiting for my response, she walked out of the office, the click of her heels echoing in the otherwise silent room.

I let out a sigh and adjusted myself in the chair, my fingers resuming their mechanical rhythm over the papers. Only four more quizzes left, and then I'd be free.

But as I continued marking, my thoughts began to drift back to Montgomery, the image of her interaction with Victoria resurfacing in my mind. There she was—so warm, so genuinely nice. It was such a stark contrast to the Montgomery I'd grown accustomed to, the one who'd mocked me only moments earlier, the one who was always quick to snap and dismiss.

The smile she gave Victoria—it had been real, unguarded. Never in my life had I been so shocked, seeing her like that, as if a different side of her had momentarily surfaced. It left me with questions, questions I knew better than to voice aloud. I had learned my lesson by now, she hated it when I mentioned anything remotely suggesting that she was capable of kindness.

Maybe there was more to her than what she allowed me to see. But for now, I knew better than to dig deeper.

Once I finished marking the quizzes, I carefully stacked them in a neat pile and placed them on Montgomery's side of the desk. The room felt emptier without her presence, the air somehow a bit heavier. I glanced at my phone, checking for a message from Lea. I had texted her earlier, asking her to let me know when she got back on campus, but there was still no reply.

There didn't seem to be much point in leaving Montgomery's office just yet. Besides, it was quiet in here, and if Montgomery didn't mind, I could use the time to work on the assignment. I could always pretend I didn't hear her say I could leave. Nah, she probably wouldn't care.

I reached into my bag, retrieving my laptop and setting it up on the desk. The screen flickered to life, and I opened the document Lea and I had been working on. We had split the assignment into three parts, I'd handle one, she'd tackle another, and the last part we'd work on together. A smart plan, if I said so myself—it made everything manageable, and we each did an equal share.

I started typing, the rhythmic clicking of the keys filling the office. My thoughts remained focused on the assignment, though every now and then I couldn't help but look at the door, almost expecting Montgomery to walk back in at any moment, her voice breaking the silence with a snappy remark or another task for me. I let out a small chuckle, imagining what she might say when she saw me still in her office, now taking up even more space with my work.

The quiet moments passed, filled only by the tapping of keys and the occasional sound from the hallway outside. This place might've been Montgomery's domain, but for now, it felt like I was slowly carving out a corner for myself—just enough to make it comfortable.

I was making good progress—pulling up websites, jotting down notes, diving into research. This assignment had to be emailed in by next Thursday, and although it was a big one, I was confident that Lea and I could get it done in time as long as we stayed focused.

Assignments weren't exactly my favorite pastime, but that was just university life for you—lots of deadlines, lots of caffeine, and the constant urge to procrastinate. Still, for now, I was actually managing to keep on task.

The door opened, but I was so absorbed in my work that I didn't notice. I was squinting at a particularly dense research article when suddenly a familiar voice came from right behind me. "Ms. Wilson."

I jumped slightly in my seat, my fingers freezing mid-type. My heart skipped a beat as I twisted around, only to find Professor Montgomery standing behind me, her hand resting on the back of my chair. She was close enough that I could see the slight quirk of amusement in her eyes.

"You're still here?" she asked, her eyebrow arching in that familiar way, like she was both surprised and mildly intrigued.

"Uh, yeah," I managed, chuckling nervously, my eyes darting to the mess of papers and my laptop. "Figured I'd stay and get some work done." I hoped she wouldn't tell me to leave, I had settled into a comfortable groove, even if being around her made me somewhat jittery.

She let out a small hum, her lips curving into that smirk of hers. "Careful, Ms. Wilson," she said as she moved gracefully across the room to her chair, her eyes never leaving mine, "I'm beginning to think you want to spend time with me."

The air in the room felt different, almost charged, as if her words carried a weight that neither of us fully acknowledged. I leaned back in my chair, my lips quirking into a slight grin. "Would that be such a bad thing?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though I could feel my pulse picking up.

Montgomery settled into her chair, raising an eyebrow at me. She started tapping her fingers idly on the desk, each tap echoing in the otherwise silent room. Her gaze flickered to me, and for a brief second, I almost thought I saw a hint of something else—something less guarded, maybe—but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Yes," she muttered, her eyes narrowing, her smirk fading into something more unreadable. "Yes, it would be."

There was a finality in her voice, a boundary she was setting, and yet the tension between us seemed to ripple, refusing to dissipate. I swallowed, unsure how to respond, so I merely turned back to my laptop, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Montgomery grabbed the stack of quizzes I had marked, giving them a cursory glance before placing them aside on her desk. "I have more work for you," she said, her tone almost dismissive. "But I'll let you continue with whatever you're doing."

Just as I was about to respond, my phone vibrated on the desk. I glanced down at the notification—it was a message from Lea, saying she was waiting by the fountain.

Quickly, I started packing up, shoving my books and notes haphazardly into my bag. I stood, slinging the strap over my shoulder and pushing the chair in. "I'll see you later, Professor," I said, giving her a polite smile as I waited for her acknowledgment. She didn't even glance up, her eyes glued to her computer screen.

Maybe she didn't hear me. "I'll see you—" I began again, but she cut me off sharply.

"I heard you the first time," she snapped, her gaze still fixed on whatever was on her screen.

I blinked, taken aback by her sudden harshness. Rolling my eyes, I turned on my heel, striding out of her office with annoyance bubbling in my chest. The door closed behind me with a quiet click, and I huffed in frustration.

Why was she like that? Hot and cold, all the time. One minute she was almost warm, and the next she was freezing, a mix of ice and fire. She was like the damn weather around here—one day blazing hot, and the next, you'd need a jacket just to cope.

I shook my head as I made my way down the hall, stepping outside into the fresh air. Oh, what did it even matter? She was just a professor. Someone I had to deal with for a grade. I needed to remember that, no matter how much she got under my skin.