It was an unseasonably warm day in mid-October as I strolled up to our usual meeting spot at the southeast corner of the university quad. I was the first of the group to arrive, so I snatched up a seat at the picnic table, at the far end, that was excluded from the shade of a nearby tree.
I took off my jacket, exposing my shoulders to the late afternoon sun. Let the warmth wash over my body, knowing that this would be one of the last balmy days before the weather chilled for fall.
I pulled out my phone and started mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, passing the time until the rest of the group arrived. Since the start of the previous semester, a small group of us had been meeting every Thursday afternoon for what began as a study group for our Contemporary Literature class. It initially yielded a much larger turnout. However, after a few weeks, the number of attendees dwindled, and it turned into more of an informal book club, with only four of us from the original class, plus our professor and his T.A.
I was becoming increasingly engrossed in the pictures of celebrities' outfits of the day and of the Starbucks cups, posted by friends, boasting the return of the Pumpkin Spice Latte. I barely even noticed when my best friend and roommate Abby strode up to the table, claiming the seat across from me.
"Hey Jo!" she said with a friendly smile.
"Hi Ab," I said, jolted from my social media trance.
"Hey, so, Ryan and I are going to Newport for the weekend. You want to come?"
Ryan was Abby's boyfriend. They'd hooked up a few times around homecoming last year, and although at first she kept insisting it was just casual, it's been about a year now and they couldn't be happier. He was a nice guy and the three of us got along well, but I really didn't feel like being the third wheel on their romantic weekend.
"Nah. Thanks, but I'll just stay home," I replied.
"Oh come on! It'll be fun! Ryan loves you!" she persuaded.
"And I love him, but it'll be nice to have a few days to catch up on laundry. Plus I have like, four papers to work on, so I really can't. But you guys go have fun!"
I reached into my purse and fished out the single condom I had floating in the bottom of my bag.
"Here! My contribution to your weekend," I said as I tossed the purple square across the table to Abby, nearly hitting her in the face with it. "I'm sure you'll get much more use out of it than me," I said with a laugh. "Just please don't think of me while you're using it."
"Ooh... I can't make any promises!" she said with a deep belly laugh, dangling the foil packet in front of her face.
Of course at that exact moment, our professor, Owen Thomas, sat down beside me at the table.
"Hello ladies," he said with an amused smirk, his smooth, captivating British accent making all of the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Owen was our Contemporary Literature professor last semester. He was the one that actually founded our little group back then. It was his first year teaching, and he said he preferred it to traditional office hours, as it gave him a chance to get to know his students. Naturally, most of the attendees for a while were young women, drawn to the handsome older man. I'm a little ashamed to say that I was one of those girls. I probably would have participated no matter what, but I was ready to throw some elbows if I had to, to be one of the first to add my name to the sign-up sheet.
No one would blame any of us either. He was nothing short of god-like. Owen was in his mid-thirties, just over six feet tall, with thick brown hair and just the tiniest bit of grey coloring his temples. As if his looks weren't enough to make me lust after him, he had completely won me over in every other way as well. He was so intelligent, funny, and down to earth. One of those teachers that asks you to call him by his first name, and treats all of his students as his equals. Normally I would find that kind of thing to be cheesy beyond belief, but it was so sincere in him. I could tell that he really did care, and just wanted to actually make an impact on us.
"Hi Owen," Abby said with an embarrassed smile as she shoved the condom into her pocket.
"Hey," I said, blushing as he looked right at me.
"How did you two enjoy the book?" he asked.
"It was great!" I replied. "I read the whole thing in one day. I couldn't put it down."
Owen smiled sweetly at me. "I love to hear that. It's one of my favorites."
...
A few hours later, our group had ended up at our usual bar just off campus. This had become somewhat of a Thursday night ritual. Book club, and then $2 pitchers and countless games of pool until some had to tear themselves away so they wouldn't sleep through their 8am lectures. I was lucky and didn't have my first class until noon on Fridays, so I usually stayed pretty late.
Sometimes, after a great deal of persuading, Owen would join us at the bar. I think he felt as though he was doing something wrong, hanging out, drinking, with students. I always got a rush of excitement when he came. Like a giddy little girl. I loved seeing him out of class. Just a man, hanging out, having a few drinks at a bar. I don't know what it was, but something about seeing him in this convivial element was just so sexy to me.
After a few rounds of beer and bar games, people began to head out for the night, until it was back to being myself, Abby and Owen.
"Excuse me for a minute," Abby said, as she got up to head to the restroom. As she stood up from her chair, she shot me a glance and nodded her head, gesturing for me to come with her.
"Um, yeah, I'll be right back too," I said to Owen, standing up to follow Abby to the back of the bar.
"Oh my God! What is going on with you two all of a sudden?" Abby asked once the door had fully closed behind us.
"What are you talking about?" I tried to act as if I didn't know what she meant, but of course I knew she was talking about me and Owen. Obviously, I had had a massive crush on him for a while, which I tried to keep under wraps, knowing how ridiculous and clichéd the entire thing was, but I guess I wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"Oh, come on Joanna! Don't even think I haven't noticed that you two have been flirting all night. For the past few weeks even. Did you even realize that you hadn't actually spoken to anyone else all night?"
"Abby, stop. Even if I do like him, there's no way he would ever feel the same way. Plus, he's our professor. That could never happen." I was directing this more to myself than to Abby.
Abby shot me an annoyed expression. "Bullshit, Jo! He was our professor. Not anymore. Now he's just any other man who happens to work at the same school you go to. And he is into you, Joanna. Like, really into you. You are hot and he's practically drooling over you out there."
I rolled my eyes a little at her, however, I could feel the corners of my lips turn up in a reluctant smile. I really did like him, but never thought I could actually act on it. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe Abby was just really convincing, but I began to wonder about what could actually happen with Owen and me.
Abby could see the wheels turning in my head and spun me around towards the bathroom mirror.
"Jo, you are beautiful and you can have any man you want. Don't ever think any differently," she said while combing through my long blond hair with her fingers, and swiping her thumbs under my eyes, getting rid of any mascara flakes that had fallen throughout the day.
Suddenly Abby's phone started buzzing and I stood there, silently considering her little pep talk as she answered her phone.
"Hey baby," she said when she picked it up. "Okay, I'll be out in a minute."
"I texted Ryan to pick me up, so I'm going to go. I'm staying at his place tonight, so the apartment is all yours," she said with a wink.
All of a sudden, I felt a tidal wave of nerves. Was I really going to do this?
"Let's go!" said Abby, turning me back towards the door and slapping my butt as I walked back out to the darkened bar.
...
Not fifteen minutes later, I was sitting in Owen's car on the way home. After Abby left with Ryan, Owen offered to give me a ride. We spent the drive in relative silence, the palpable feeling of sexual tension hanging in the air around us. It was as if we had changed all of a sudden. Like we both were finally, at the same time, accepting the feelings we had toward one another.
But what if I was reading it all wrong? I wanted to say something. Literally anything to cut this tension. I just couldn't think of anything. I was so in my own head, caught up in my thoughts. Wondering if he actually felt the same way about me. I hadn't noticed him "practically drooling" over me, like Abby had described. What if she was just saying that to boost my ego? What if I made a move, but he didn't reciprocate? Then what? I just don't think I could handle that.