Hot Night With My Professor

“Thank you for your efforts,” said our classroom president, whose name is Atacia. “You did all your best. Let’s just wait for the announcement of who will be the most profitable booth that will be announced tomorrow.” She was smiling from ear to ear. We just finished tidying up and cleaning our area. Actually, I haven’t even changed yet because I prioritized helping them somehow, despite still being in a gown, because I wanted to go home.

“But as I observed, it’s not impossible for us to win. I can’t deny that our booth was the best and accumulated a huge number of guests throughout the day. I am really proud of you guys,” she added. She thanked us again before letting us go home. I, on the other hand, had a chance to change my clothes so I hurried back to our building, also because my things are in the classroom, in the locker.

I was walking in the corridor when I saw a man on the other side. My heart beat faster when I realized it was Ismael.

He saw me, and he seemed a bit surprised, so he stopped walking. No, he actually stopped walking to watch me. And here I am, walking towards him like I was walking down the aisle of a church to meet my lovely groom in a black tuxedo.

I can’t help but imagine. I want to slap myself. Why am I doing this? Why did I imagine we were at a wedding? Is it because I’m wearing a wedding dress?

I shook my head and stopped my fantasy. My imagination is out of this world. I am becoming delusional. I have no right to think ahead of myself about us because, first of all, we are nothing. We had just a one-night stand and a student-professor relationship. Nothing less, nothing more.

Fortunately, someone called him so I stopped fantasizing.

“Professor Ismael! Dean Dator is calling you,” said the student, who looked like he was still running because he was catching his breath. Ismael glanced at me for a moment before he finally joined that student.

A deep sigh escaped my lips. I decided to go to the comfort room to change my clothes and remove my makeup. Then I went to my room to get my things from the locker.

On my way home, I can’t help but think about Ismael and how he was so dedicated to his job, and somehow, I feel envious. I don’t have such dreams to work hard for. Unlike him, when he is called, he will go immediately, no matter what happens. What about me? What exactly is my dream? I feel like Ismael is encouraging me to figure out my dreams again. No one asked about it, not even my family. Maybe he notices that I’m losing the path I’m supposed to be on. And I realized something because of him. All I could think about was completing my degree and spending time with Professor Sybill because love had blinded me. Be his wife. Be with his children. I didn’t think about what my place in the world would be. What will I be after I study? What would I be without him? And now I’m here, trying to think about it because a man made me think of it.

I got off the cab, and the moment I stepped my feet out of it, I saw someone-it was Roxsielle, my brother Joth’s live-in partner. What is she doing here?

“Jothea,” she called me when I got near my house, where she was. It looks like she’s been waiting outside for a while now.

“What brings you here, Roxsielle?”

“I just want to borrow some money.”

I gasped. “Why didn’t he come here?” I was referring to my youngest brother.

“Joth is a bit shy to face you.”

I turned to her. “So he sent you here?” I gulped, trying my best to maintain my composure. Does my brother really not have time to visit me? Do they really not care about me? They will always approach me when they need something.

“It doesn’t matter who goes here, Jothea. Maybe you can lend us some money. The money Joth earns is not enough for us anymore. There are four of us already.”

My forehead creased. “Our parents send us both our allowances monthly. Where does he spend his money?”

“To us too. It’s not enough. Maybe you can lend us some of yours since you don’t have children or anything to spend money on. For sure, you have a lot saved up.”

I was blown away again. “What’s about having no children?” She was talking to me in a way that was starting to annoy me, so I stopped. Why does it feel like it’s my responsibility to lend them money because they have children yet I’m still a young woman? I’m not stingy, but why do they make me feel like it’s my obligation?

“What I’m borrowing is for your niece. Milk is expensive. I don’t have any more to buy. I’ll return it too, you know? I’m not asking for it; I am borrowing,” she emphasized. “Why is it so hard to please you?!”

I was stunned. Is it so hard to please me? “Huh? I was just asking you. You’re the one who’s in need, but yet it seems like I’m the one who owes you money and it’s a big sin if I can’t lend it to you. If that’s how you will ask for me, I’m sorry; I can’t help you.”

I turned my back on her. Why does it appear that I am the one who lacks compassion and has no heart? This is not the first time that they have borrowed from me and I have always given them but they have never returned anything to me. Especially this past month, when Roxsielle gave birth, they came to me because they had used up what our parents sent them. I didn’t look into where they were taking the money, but it was surprising that it wasn’t enough for them. My parents are sending them more than me.

“Why is it so hard to talk to you?! That’s the bare reason why Joth couldn’t come here-you’re so heartless! Do you really have no care for your family anymore?” I was surprised when she grabbed my arm and her nail dug into my skin so I fell and pushed her.

“You all are the ones who didn’t consider me part of your family! Besides, you all only remember me when you need something! And one more thing: you are not blood-related to me! How can you run those words from your filthy mouth like you are a part of my family?” I shouted loudly as she fell to the floor. I wasn’t able to control myself. What she says is too much. She is the one who needs me, yet she is the one who talks like she’s superior to me.

She didn’t fight anymore so I completely abandoned her. I took the key from my bag and was about to open the door when Roxsielle spoke again.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Jothea…” she called me again. “T-there’s blood…”