Exactly at twelve forty-five, I return to Professor Wright's office, and this time; I knock on his half-open door.

His head snaps up from the yellow folder in his hand. The same one the black suit guy gave him.

"May I?" I ask softly, my heart hammers in my chest as his eyes bore into me.

"Not today Stewart," he mutters and returns to reading the file.

"I won't take much of your time, only two seconds, I promise," my voice gets an edge, making it sound pitcher even to my own ears.

He sighs and glares at the wall across from him before inhaling slowly as if composing himself. Deliberately he turns to me and gives a single nod.

I smile from the sudden relief and hurry into the room, and slid a strap of my bag off my shoulder, and unzip it. As I pull out the purple binder holding all the pages of my assignment, I notice his gaze on me. My anxiety level spikes up, causing my insides to quaver.

He frowns as I place my folder on his desk and take a step back. "That's it." I'm ready to turn and flee when he stops me.

"What's this?" he asks, shutting the yellow folder and leaning forward to pick mine.

"The answers."

His brow furrows further as he glances between me and the binder. "Didn't I tell you to hand them all in together? I won't accept if you're planning on giving them separately." He holds out the folder for me.

I smile. "You did, sir. But that's all of it." I clasp my hands in front of myself.

He quirks an eyebrow at me, holding my assignment in one hand, he flicks the yellow folder in the drawer of his desk. The same drawer I found the Reimann surface problem in it.

"All of it?" he questions, looking over the black frame of his glasses.

I nod.

"All fifty?" he asks again.

I bite my bottom lip to hide my growing smile. "Yes, Professor."

He eyes me suspiciously before flipping it open and reading through my answers.

As he scans page after page, I watch him closely. Noting how his eyebrows draw together and raise slightly, how the corner of his mouth lifts up and then goes back to a straight line. I can't help but note how truly handsome, or as Ashely would call him, a yummy guy, he is.

His skin is smooth, his face is clean-shaven, making him look much younger than other days where he had stubble. His light skin tone is the evidence of spending the majority of his time indoors, but it doesn't make him look like a ghost and the black shirt he's wearing only helps him be more striking than ever.

I inhale sharply and fidget with my fingers, dragging my eyes away from his face and to his index finger, tracing my answers in an impossibly swift move.

"Did you do it all by yourself?" he asks and takes the papers out of the binder, comparing some of them together.

"Yes." I play with my wristwatch as he nods.

Wright halts and quirks an eyebrow before bending down and pulling out his tablet, he glances between the screen and checks the top of the pages, where I've written the questions in black.

Finally, he puts aside his tablet, his eyebrows raising, and eyes widening. He leans into his chair, lips parting but he shakes his head. "I gave you these on Friday?"

I nod and grin. Not being able to stop myself, I inch to him. "You're impressed?"

He shakes his head, but a slow and small smile appears.

"You cannot say this only surprised you a little." The toothy smile on my face refuses to back down as I scan his face.

He blinks multiple times, amusement lighting him as he holds his hands up. "Fine, yes, you- I'm impressed."

A giddy feeling bubbles inside of me, making it impossible for me to stay still. I cover my mouth to hold in a squeal. Mentally I cross out the first part of my plan.

"I knew it," I beam and bounce from foot to foot.

For a split second I catch his dark blue eyes glinting, an emotion flickers in them too fast and faint for me to detect, his features soften as a genuine smile threatens to spill over his face but it never happens.

Instead, he straightens himself, pushing his glasses up his nose and furrowing his brow. "How did you do it? How long did it take you to get this done?" he plants his elbows on his desk and rests his chin on his fist.

He watches me, waiting for a reply, and for the first time in a very long time, it feels freaking fantastic to have someone look at me like that. As though I'm special. But not wanting to show him the effect of his gaze, I shrug, pulling over my nonchalant mask. He quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting for a response.

Subconsciously my hand moves to my hair, twirling a lock of curl around my finger. "I started working on them the moment you gave them to me. So the entire Friday. During all the free time I got when I was on shift at work from nine to five on Saturday and ten to two on Sunday along with the rest of those days... and nights. Monday and Tuesday after my classes ended at six I continued working on them until four or maybe five in the morning today."

His eyebrows jump high. "Wow," he mumbles. "That's..." his voice trails down, searching for the right word.

I grin again. "I did say I like challenges."

A small smile curls his full lips as he gazes at me. A sudden burst of warmth courses through my veins as a fluttering feeling erupts in my chest, evaporating every single thought in my brain.

My pulse quickens and I look away, grasping the straps of my bag.

Wright sighs and leans into his chair.

As my mind clears, my head snaps up, the question of 'will you now consider being my adviser' at the tip of my tongue but the will to voice it out falters.

"I suppose now you expect me to consider helping you write a paper?" he rests his chin on his thumb and curls his fingers before his mouth as he studies my expression.

I fail to hide my surprise. I'm about to ask how he knew when he shakes his head. "It's written all over your face, Stewart. But one thing you need to know is, I have never worked on a paper with any student before."

"It's okay," I instantly say and he smiles.

Internally, I smack myself. I need to stop sounding so desperate. Regardless I offer him a small smile.

"I have to do some research, see if I can find anything that you'll be able to work on, perhaps merge a few papers together," he narrows his eyes, deep in thought.

"No!" I object a bit too fast to be appropriate, so I quickly add, "I want to solve something."

He gazes at me with an unreadable emotion before answering, "We'll see." A beat of silence passes between us before he adds, "Give me till Friday."

I grin. Finally, the pace of my plan is picking up.

"Thank you, Professor." I spin and walk to the door, but when my fingers curl around the doorknob Wright's question stops me.

"Did you apply to MIT too?"

I whirl around with surprise. "No."

"Why?" he tilts his head to one side, eyebrows furrow before releasing. He watches me as though I'm the most intriguing matter he has ever come across.

I chew my bottom lip, contemplating if I should tell him the truth or cook up a lie. But somehow, being scrutinized by him disables all the lie-making machines in my head. "MIT is for nerds."  His brow furrows further and I sigh. "I didn't want to be the nerd in my group of friends, so I didn't apply."

He backs away, gaping at me.

"What! I didn't want to be that girl in our group. And... let's not forget, studying there is too much stress. I wanted to have fun and enjoy life."

He pushes his glasses up his nose and lands his elbows on his desk, tangling his long, slender fingers together. "And where are these friends of yours now?"

I purse my lips and shoot him a glare. It's as if he already knows the answer.

"Well," I start, shuffling my feet. "I no longer fit in their social status, so I'm not invited to their gatherings anymore." I steel myself against the stinging sense the words carry. My best friends and boyfriend put me aside because I'm not rich anymore.

He nods. "At least now you know how much your decision lacked practicality." He crosses his arms and continues, "And how important it is to choose your priorities carefully. Hopefully, this will lead you to reconsider the amount of importance you give to things that are absolutely worthless. If you want me to help you, remember I won't allow you to decide on such baseless factors, because in the end, you're going to be known as my student."

I stare at him, stunned. "Wow, no one has ever called me stupid this politely." I shake my head and a burst of giggle mixed with disbelief bubbles out of me.

"I didn't." He holds up a finger.

"Yeah, not directly." I roll my eyes but my smile lingers.

He glances at his watch, his eyes bulge and he gets to his feet. "I have a class," he says as if he had completely forgotten about it. He picks up his briefcase and shoves a few things including his tablet into it.

"Me too. Got a class I have to answer all the questions the professor asks from the entire class in hopes of maybe passing the subject."

A corner of his mouth quirks up. "Oh really? Sounds like an interesting class." He glances at me, and the amusement gleaming in his features makes him impossibly handsome.

"You have no idea. And the sheer amount of work we have to do for it and the stress its professor forces us to endure, it all adds to how wonderful this class is."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "A fantastic teaching method, I would say." He looks up from the bundle of papers in his hand. "Hurry now, no students are allowed after me, with no exception, Stewart." He quirks an eyebrow to emphasize his point.

"Yes, sir." I grin and dash out of his room.

As I descend the stairs, it suddenly dawns on me how I flipped the Professor Wright's mood. From incandescent to joking around.

I halt and peer up the staircase in the general direction of his room. Has anyone ever seen him chuckling, let alone joking? An odd satisfied feeling builds up in me.

Guess impressing him has its perks.

I enter the classroom and immediately stop as I feel everyone's gaze being attached to me. Slowly I survey the class until my eyes land on the only three girls in the class, my friends.

Dread climbs up my limbs and my smile vanishes. The trio stare at me as if they've seen a ghost. Or as though they're going to be the bearer of someone's death news.

With hesitant steps, I approach them.

Anushka fidgets with her fingers, Meilin glances between me and Anushka with an unnecessary amount of worry. Ashely offers a weak smile.

"Guys," I watch them.

Anushka inhales sharply. "We need to tell you something."

∞ ∞ ∞

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