•<The Talk>•

                I can't remember what I did tonight
                                 Or even yesterday
                          Like, dude, where's my car?
                         Excuse me, what's my name?
                       Someone gave me these clothes
                                I can't remember who
                              My mind's a total blank
                      But I just can't forget about you,
                                     forget about you
                                            •
                                                R5

                                        •<>•

I gulp down a shot of tequila and the burning sensation glides down the delicate lining of my throat. Immediately I squeeze my eyes shut, I feel the buzz kick in, dizziness is flaring inside me and for the first time in a while, it's not because of him but because of the countless drinks I've had tonight.

Turning my gaze to the girls, a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth when I see them dancing. It's been hours since class ended, to be more specific, since I had the talk with Mr. Myers and yet I'm still thinking about it. Even though I'm in a bar, surrounded by a crowd of happy people and good music, despite the copious amount of alcohol I've poured down my throat, he's still on my mind, torturing me like he always does and I can still see that smug smile on his face.

Recollections of our earlier encounter inundate my mind, making it feel as if my head is entangled in a spider's web, desperately seeking an escape.

It feels like a mixture of colors scribbled on a paper, so chaotic, so messy and I'm hastily flipping the pages — desperately searching for the color I know best, a color that has a peaceful, relaxing, and soothing presence. Unlike other colors, gray has no desire to explore; stepping out of its comfort zone is something it would never consider, it would rather stick to what it knows best because it's afraid of the outcome.

"Hey," Autumn snaps me out of my thoughts, she's euphoric and her body is glistening with sweat, "Don't you wanna join us? You've been sitting here for a long time I'm starting to think you're glued to this barstool. C'mon!" She insists as she grabs my hands, "Come dance with us."

I don't think I'm in the right state of mind to dance right now, I wouldn't say I'm drunk but I'm feeling a little tipsy. I part my lips to speak and just as I'm about to say a word, all the girls join Autumn in pulling me up from my seat, coaxing me to dance with them.

Feeling defeated, I straighten up and tuck my ginger hair behind my ears. Immediately I start to sway my hips from side to side lazily, the girls begin to whine and try to infuse some of their vibrant energy into me with a playful nudge, yet it doesn't quite break through until the next song starts.

As soon as my favorite song 'Shut up and Dance with Me' kicks in, my eyes widen, and my mouth falls open in sheer surprise and delight. "I love this song!" I enthusiastically exclaim, and the girls respond with jubilant cheers.

"Now dance like it's the last night of your life, shake that stress off!" One of Keyara's friends exclaims joyfully with a big grin etched on her face and the rest cheer on.

Surging with excitement and renewed energy, I begin to reclaim my confidence. "Okay, I can do this!" I smile as I nod my head, "Let's shake that school stress off bitches! Woo hoo!" The whole squad joins me as they cheer me on and we dance our hearts out for hours.

Maybe it's the confidence and excitement that have overwhelmed me or it's the full effect of the alcohol that has started kicking in given the copious amount I've consumed in the past few hours, because my body feels like it's at the highest megawatt and adrenaline is rushing through my body like a speeding bullet train.

My feet are numb and so are my knees, I'm not tired like the girls who are looking worn out already. Every song that comes on has me dancing like crazy, swaying my hips from side to side, jumping up and down, whipping my hair, and dancing with any good-looking stranger who approaches me.

I'm happy, not because of the music that has my heart beating to its rhythm, but because of how good it feels to not give a care about anything, or anyone, Ethan fucking Myers to be specific.

Who the hell does he think he is to talk to me like that? What gave him the right to invade my mind like that? To toy with my mind like that? Who the fuck does he think he is?!

Shortly after, dizziness stirs inside me the whole bar starts spinning, and my vision becomes blurry. The beating sensation hits my temples so hard I almost fall to the ground but thankfully, the girls catch me in a bat of an eye.

Upon collapsing in their arms, I hold onto the back of their necks for dear life and I can barely hear myself speaking but I'm definitely aware that I'm saying something. Shutting my eyes momentarily, my surroundings turn black and quiet, and it stays that way for I don't how long.

    •<<<>>>•

Awakening to a throbbing headache, I reach for a glass of water on my nightstand and gulp it down in one go. As I rise from my bed, I make my way out of the bedroom and see Key and Autumn reclined on the couch.

"Look who finally woke up from the dead." Autumn jests with a playful grin.

"Wha-what time is it?" I inquire — my tone reflecting utter confusion. My head still throbs slightly, and my body feels feeble despite just waking up. My throat is parched, and I'm so hungry that I could eat a full cow.

"It's 3 in the afternoon," Key replies, "Damn girl, you really went all in last night." Her tone takes a high playful note as her eyebrows crease, "Do you even remember what happened last night?"

Listening to what Key has just said evokes curiosity within me and I'm eager to know what happened, hope I didn't do anything stupid. Pff, who am I kidding, with that amount of alcohol I had in my body, it's impossible not to.

"You should have heard the things you were saying too." Autumn chimes in with a mischievous grin and a chuckle, her expression radiating delight in whatever I did and said last night as though it were a captivating entertainment spectacle.

Immediately, my heart jumps out of my chest and anxiety strikes my knees so hard I wobble a little.

What could I have possibly said last night? Could it have been about him? Did I spill everything out to everyone who was in the bar? I remember being mad at him but was I cussing out loud? Or was I praising him? What did I say?! Crap I hate that I don't remember a thing, I don't remember any word I said and it's effing killing me inside.

"Don't worry," Key utters as she averts her glare from Autumn, "It wasn't about him."

Upon hearing that, a breath of relief washes over me and I proceed to take my seat right away.

"Yeah, but you almost talked about him," Autumn says with a soft chuckle seeping into her words — prompting Key to shoot her a glare.

"What?!" Autumn arches her eyebrows, her voice carrying a blend of defensiveness and playfulness, "I'm just being honest."

"What-what did I say? What did I do?" I press, my tone tinged with growing panic. The relief of not having mentioned him eases my mind somewhat, but I'm still fraught with anxiety over what transpired. Honestly, I'm well aware that I'm never on my best behavior when I'm intoxicated, and that terrifies me.

They proceed to recount my escapades, describing how I careened around, dancing with everyone and occasionally succumbing to bouts of vomiting. When they mention my flirtatious interactions with the bartender, I sink in my seat in an attempt to hide the shame that has engulfed me, I can feel the heat surge up my cheeks — turning them a fiery shade of red.

Their recollection continues, detailing how I engaged in shouting matches and endless chatters, even describing a moment when I crumpled to the ground, nearly in tears, and ended up laughing instead while leaning against the wall.

I did all that?!

Autumn adds by talking about how I was trying to be a motivational speaker, warning people to be careful with what they said or they might end up like me. Hell, I even brought up Jordan, my ex-boyfriend into the conversation, and talked about how much of a piece of shit he is. According to Autumn, it was like I was unraveled and I was releasing my frustration, every pain, and every thought I was pinning down with my tongue.

Crap!

"How are you feeling though?" Autumn asks, with worry laced in her voice.

I smile a little and tell her that I'm okay though the alcohol effects have not completely worn off, it's probably just a hangover.

"Autumn and I have already ordered pizza, it should be here any minute," Key says. She has her back resting on the couch with a phone in her hand — she's probably tracking the pizza delivery man.

"Here," Autumn says as she gives me a pill and a glass of water, "You can take some Tylenol to relieve the headache."

When I drink it, I thank her and put the glass down.

"Do you?" Key momentarily halts, her gaze darting briefly to Autumn before returning to me, "Do you want to go back to art class after everything that happened?"

As soon as she poses that question, the memories of yesterday's events slam into me like a powerful blow to the face. When I recounted Mr. Myers' words to the girls, their sympathetic expressions and comforting gestures were a balm to my wounded pride. It wasn't solely about what he said, but also the awkward and embarrassing moments that accompanied those words. Each time I recall them, I can't help but cringe.

It's the shame that engulfed me when he finally acknowledged it that lingers most in my memory. How calm and collected he was during the whole talk while I was a mess, my insides shaking massively like an oscillating multi-tool.

The thought of it makes me cringe once more and I force myself to snap out of it. Honestly at this point, going back to his class wouldn't be the best option after what happened. He knows how I feel about him and that would only make me more uncomfortable knowing that he knows. Looking into his eyes wouldn't feel the same anymore, I don't know if I would even have the courage to look at him again after what he said to me.

This is a dilly of a pickle I'm in, and as insane as I may sound, I can't bear the thought of being away from him, the thought of never seeing him again given how big my school is.

He's the only man who has fully consumed my thoughts since my breakup with Jordan. I never expected to feel the same intense connection with someone else, nor did I anticipate wanting to take the risk of being with them. Typically, I'd admire someone from afar and carry on with my life, but with him, it's an entirely different story. The longer I gaze into his entrancing eyes, the more I yearn to linger there, to delve deeper and uncover what lies beneath them.

"It's just the first week so I don't think it would be too late for you to find another class," Keyara adds, "This whole situation is a mess already and I can't imagine how awkward things would be between you two."

"He's good looking by the way." Autumn blurts it out without a second thought, and we all turn our eyes toward her in utter disbelief.

Seriously?! That's what you're thinking about while I'm out here sinking in my mess?

"What?!" She chuckles softly, "I'm sorry but I just had to say it. Probably not the best time to but, I couldn't help it, the man's good looking and it wouldn't be a surprise if he had thousands of girls throwing themselves at him."

"Autumn!" Key interjects in an attempt to stop her from talking but is cut short immediately.

"All I'm trying to say is that this probably wouldn't be the first time for him that you know, somebody's taken interest in him. So maybe this wouldn't be awkward for him as you're interpreting it to be. He's a professor for goodness sake, so definitely he knows how to handle situations like this."

She then gets up from her seat and sits beside me. Upon taking my hand in hers, she strokes it gently as she proceeds to speak, "Forget about him and think about yourself right now, who cares if he would find it awkward being around you, he's probably been in many situations like this before. The question is --" she pauses, "Would you be okay with seeing him again?"

     •<<<>>>•

Hours have passed since my conversation with the girls, and I've wasted countless moments tossing and turning in bed, desperately seeking sleep. Thoughts of him refuse to leave my mind, and it's even worse when I close my eyes. I've attempted to lose myself in a book for distraction, but that too has proven futile.

The memories of that Friday afternoon continue to replay relentlessly in my mind, and unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to stop them. I can still vividly recall every detail of the conversation, from the moment I took my seat in front of him to the moment I left the room, feeling more disconcerted than before.

Every word he uttered, the nuances in his tone, and the intensity of his gaze still burn brightly in my memory. As I settled into my chair, an uncomfortable silence settled between us. I watched him lean forward — resting his elbows on the table, his fingers interlocked as he fixed his unwavering gaze upon me. Meanwhile, I did my best to hide my nervousness, interlocking my own fingers under the table and tucking them between my thighs. I can't help but think I must have looked like a scared kitten.

'I don't intend to make you uncomfortable,' he uttered those words, and whether or not it was his intention, their impact had already taken hold, leaving me far beyond mere discomfort. It's hard to put into words the tumultuous emotions that were swirling within me, but it felt as though my very soul teetered on the edge of leaving my body. His unwavering gaze persisted — its intensity akin to a blinding light emanating from his eyes.

'Bringing this up isn't easy for me and I can assume that it's not easy for you as well but I need to make things clear and set boundaries here.' He said calmly while my heart was beating louder than a snare drum.

'I knew that being this young while teaching at a university would come with challenges given the effort, time, and patience it would take to earn respect from students who are nearly the same age as me. I may not be your typical professor but I take pride in being one and I take my job very seriously. I may look like your mates but one thing you should keep in mind is that I'm your professor and I deserve respect just like any other professor in this university.'

He reclined in his chair and resumed speaking, his voice maintaining a monotone quality that was both intimidating and, paradoxically, filled with a soft-hearted undertone, 'I heard everything you said about me on Monday, and as much as I am thankful for your praises,' he chuckled softly — a hint of disbelief was infused in it, 'I don't look like a Greek god, can't even compare.' 

The nerve he had to utter such words! I could sense that he took pleasure in how I visibly squirmed in my seat every time he repeated those words — Greek god.

'I don't need to get into the second part because I can assume you took biology and you understand how reproduction works,' he continued — his words stirred up the cringes I had struggled so vehemently to suppress every time those words echoed in my head.

*I bet he can get me pregnant if he looked at me long enough with those piercing eyes*

Once more, those words reverberate in my mind, stirring up that unsettling sensation akin to a crawling bug beneath my skin. It's a feeling that makes me wish I could simply bury my head in the sand.

Gosh, what have I done to myself?!

He then proceeded to speak, his voice still maintaining a monotone quality, 'You seem like you're a good student, Miss Wright.' His eyes kept flitting between mine beneath his thick long lashes, and boy did that make me melt in my seat.

'Focus on that alright? Let's respect each other and keep things professional, and always keep in mind that I'm your professor and not one of your college crushes or your friends you play teenage dreams with. Do I make myself clear?' His tone took a serious and intimidating turn on the last part, causing an internal tremor of apprehension.

'I don't want to make a big deal out of this so let's just put this behind us and move on from this nonsense.' He added as he leaned forward once more and had his elbows firmly planted on the table I could see his clearly defined biceps strained against the fabric of his polo shirt sleeves. Despite sounding arrogant, he still had that effect on me that knocked me off my feet like a fifteen-foot wave.

'Is there anything you'd like to say?' His laser eyes lingered on me as they burned every part of me to ashes.

I was incapable of uttering a word so I just nodded like a kid that's being scolded, and a breath was hitched in my throat I could barely breathe.

'If you have something to say now is the time Miss Wright. We're never having this conversation again and I'd rather we lay everything on the table before putting it away for good."

I bit my lower lip and then released it, I was unable to bring myself to look up at him due to the overwhelming embarrassment I felt, and speaking felt like an insurmountable challenge at that moment. 'I'm sorry,' I finally spoke even though my voice came out strangled, 'It will never happen again, sir.'

'I hope so,' he uttered as he exhaled sharply from his nostrils, 'Is that all you needed to say?'

I nodded my head in acceptance while I played a thumb war under the table. It was my coping mechanism.

'Then I guess we're done here,' he said as he leaned back again. 'Please, you're free to leave.' With a simple hand gesture, I rose from my seat and promptly began making my way toward the door.

Feeling embarrassed is an understatement, what I felt in that moment was indescribable but I was glad that I was finally leaving and putting everything behind...or so I thought.

                                           AN

✨I'd like to get to know you briefly but you can skip this question if you want to.

- It's Friday bayybe! How' u feelin'? I thought of posting this chapter on a Friday to match with Mallory's Friday night at the bar. How do you feel about this chapter? And Mallory's wild night?

- Secondly, this isn't a get-to-know-you type of question, so here it is.

What do you think about The Talk? Was it right for Ethan to bring up that conversation or not? Was he too harsh on her?✨
      ***
Thank you so much for getting this far, much appreciated. Don't forget to vote, comment and share. It'd really be nice to hear from you and your honest opinions/thoughts about the story.

       🧡🤎