Professor Z had been gone for a week.
I'd heard rumors that his sister's condition had worsened and she needed more emotional support than usual. Perhaps that was the case but more than likely he's avoided me because we fucked.
Class was just not the same. Our TA may as well have canceled the class because she wasn't teaching us anything new. I yawned, exhausted from a double shift the day before, and struggled to keep my eyes open. After class, I inquired about Professor Z's return but the TA claimed that he'd been around the past three days. He was in school? Then why the hell wasn't he teaching? I wasn't naïve - I knew our actions could jeopardize his job but he never seemed that invested in this job, anyway. To be fair, I needed to be careful, too. I needed his class to graduate and nothing was going to keep me here a second longer.
Lost in thought, I almost missed the figure scurrying past me towards the only elevator that accessed Professor Z's floor. The girl looked familiar: wavy blonde hair, a short yellow summer dress, and black cowboy boots. Intrigued by her style, I followed at a distance hoping something would jog my memory.
The girl in the yellow dress waited by the elevator, glancing around like a guilty person worried she might be caught. Recognition still elusive, I waited for something, anything, to pull her name from the recesses of my mind. I hated awkward meetings where the other person expects me to recall their name or some random detail about them that they told me during a five-minute chat.
As the elevator bell chimed, recognition struck. My mind protested but there was no mistaking her -- that was definitely Mary-Ellen. Drab, boring, Mary-Ellen actually had style? Who the fuck taught her how to use a curling iron? Why did she wear sweaters in the summer if she could pull off dresses so beautifully? And her makeup! Fresh-faced and minimal, her plum-colored lips, appearing as though stained by a just bitten fruit?
Where the hell was she going in this getup?
As I watched her enter the elevator, I debated trailing her. Free time in the mornings was such a precious commodity especially when errands piled high. However, I was curious. Picking up my phone, I dialed my local flower shop to reschedule my pick up. Grandma's flowers could wait; she most definitely had more than a day left to live. Once I completed the call, I headed towards the elevator to find out what Mary-Ellen was up to.
Reaching his floor, I made my way to the end of the hallway. His office was secluded from the rest, with only three offices on his floor. One professor was absent on sabbatical and the other taught evening classes, so it was rare for the professors to cross paths. As I approached his door, I heard a whimper.
The door was slightly ajar, the slit big enough to see inside the room. Peeking in, I froze at what I saw.
