Chapter 4: Forget It

Clara took Amelia's advice the next day and dressed nice. Clara was clad in a mid-thigh length, black dress that flared out at the belly-button. On the top, it had small black and white polka-dots and a sweetheart neck line. Her shoes were tall black boots with buckles on them. Over top of the dress was a faded denim jacket. Around her neck was a cluster of crystal necklaces and beads.

"Amy? Does this look okay?" Clara asked while looking in the mirror.

Amy lifted her head off the pillow for a moment, looked at Clara's outfit and replied with a simple, "Yeah." before falling back into her pillow and falling asleep.

Clara grinned, grabbed her messenger bag and headed out the door. On the way to class, she passed her parked red car and frowned. She rarely used her old car during the semesters, Clara walked almost everywhere. Ignoring the fact her car sat there alone, she walked down the sidewalk confidently and into the building. "Morning, Clara." A red-haired boy said to her with a smirk. The student looked her up and down. He was a 3rd year science student and Clara dated him last year. They broke because she found him cheating on her with Pansy Patterson, a trashy blonde who dated almost everyone. Or at least that's what Clara liked to think. Even to this day Clara hated that girl.

"Oh, hey, Travis." Clara waved and walked away, really not caring.

Clara walked into Professor Smith's classroom a few minutes later and walked past his desk, being sure to sway her hips as she went by. John looked up to see Clara walking to her desk and sitting down. "Oh--uh, good morning, Miss Clara."

"Morning', Professor." Clara grinned cheekily. "How was your night, Sir?"

"Oh, uh--" he started but was cut off by Clara twirling her pen in her hand again. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop looking at her when she did it. "It was fine, thank you. And yours?"

"Good, quite good actually." Clara said while slipping off her jacket and exposing her bare shoulders.

John gulped and turned back to his computer. 'Oh God, this is gonna be a hard day.'

--

By the end of the class, John was dying inside. It was so obvious to him that Clara was trying to distract him or make him notice her. But even though he knew, he couldn't help but be pulled in by it. "Ok, class dismissed. And Clara, come to my desk please."

Clara nodded to him, put on her jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to his desk. Everyone else had already left. "Yes, Professor?"

"What are you doing?" He asked her.

"What do you mean?" Clara said innocently. It was actually a quite convincing act, but not convincing enough.

"You know! Shamelessly flirting with me. I'm professional." He straightened out his jacket collar and rolled back in his chair.

"Oh, c'mon. Like you don't do the same thing back! I see you looking at me, Professor. How you pick on me. I see it in your eyes." Clara leaned forward, putting a finger on his chin. "I can tell when someone feels something. And you feel something."

John looked up at her and their eyes met suddenly. He was taken back to that first day he met her. John had seen her carrying a box into the dormitory building, he was reading Shakespeare. Their eyes had met for only a moment. One magical moment. "Miss Oswald!" He stood up and grabbed her wrist, moving her finger from his chin. "I am strictly your teacher." He moved around his desk so that their was now nothing separating them.

Clara smirked and moved closer to him. "Rubbish." Her face was now only itches from his. So close that she could feel the warm air coming out of his nose.

John looked down at her and licked his top lip. "Clara, leave please."

"Oh, c'mon." She huffed with a bemused smile.

"Now. We will not speak of this ever again, understood?"

"But--" Clara started but was interrupted.

"LEAVE. NOW." He shouted in her face. Clara jumped at the his voice raising and quickly scurried to the door.

--

Clara ran back to the dorm, about ready to cry. The corners of her eyes burned, warning signs of oncoming tears. No, she wasn't gonna cry over a stupid crush on a stupid professor and his stupid face. Who was she kidding? His face wasn't stupid, it was handsome, old, but still handsome. She felt stupid for even admitting she had a crush on him. 'Just forget the whole thing, Clara. Just forget him. Focus on school, that's all that matters.'

And from that moment on, she was going to ignore him, focus on her schoolwork and just forget the whole thing.