Chapter 5: Would He Know It Was Me?

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself underneath my desk and curl up into a ball. I watched dejectedly as the rest of the students gathered their books and notebooks before making their way out of the room.

Several of them glanced my way and even gave me wide-eyed sympathetic looks. What was impressive about that was that I didn’t know any of them. They didn’t know me but felt like they needed to wish me luck anyway, considering who I was going to be dealing with in a short minute.

Professor Bennett was watching me carefully, almost like a guard who was tasked with making sure the prisoner didn’t escape. I tried not to shift under his stern gaze. Much too soon, the last student left the room, shutting the door behind him with a very audible click.

For a moment, I just sat there, staring at my desk. I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I go up to him? He could tell me whatever he needed to from this distance, couldn’t he? My brain felt like it had shut down as I pondered what I should do next.

Professor Bennett didn’t speak. The uncomfortable silence stretched on and I kept my eyes down. Why did he ask me to stay behind out of every other student in the class? It was just my kind of luck that the most feared professor in Edenbrook had singled me out. It had to be because of the way I spoke out and tried to cover up the fact that I didn’t know the answer to the question he asked me.

Did he consider that an act of disrespect? If so, what would he do about it? Or was it because of something else?

What if, I couldn’t help but think, what if he was the man in Neon Dreams? Would he know it was me?

“Miss.”

My head shot up. Professor Bennett was watching me, just like I knew he would be. He lifted one hand gesturing to the front of his desk, clearly indicating that I should stand in front of him. Unfortunately, I had already packed up my stuff. I was cursing at the fact that I had. It would have been a great way to stall the inevitable.

I couldn’t help but keep my head lowered as I made my way toward him. The room felt miles long as I crossed it, but I wished it could be even longer.

I suddenly wanted to kick myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no reason for me to feel afraid or ashamed. I lifted my head and forced myself to meet the stern professor’s gaze.

My eyebrows furrow slightly. There was something familiar about Professor Bennett. I was certain that I didn’t know him, but perhaps I had run into him before on campus. There was something about the confident way he carried himself that sparked something inside of my brain, something at least close to recognition.

Much too soon, I was standing before him. His bright green eyes were searching as they swept over my face. I only barely resisted the urge to lower my eyes again.

The silence finally became too much and as I tended to do, I let my mouth run off as a result of my nerves.

“I’m really sorry for speaking out like that,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me. I guess I didn’t want you to think that I don’t care about Shakespeare because I really do. My mom would buy me used copies of the plays from our local library and we would act out some of the scenes together. It was a huge part of my life–”

For the second time that day, he put up a hand to silence me.

“Miss Collins, is it?” he asked after a moment.

“Yes, sir,” I confirmed with a nod. I was only slightly shocked that he remembered my name from when he took attendance at the start of the course. Not many professors took attendance, but Professor Bennett made it abundantly clear that attendance was a decent portion of our grade.

Professor Bennett didn’t speak for a while, just continued to search my face. I was rapidly growing uncomfortable but straightened my shoulders. “Forgive me, sir. Have I done something that wrong?”

His expression was unreadable, but something glinted in his irises. “You seem to know a great deal about Shakespeare, Miss Collins.” He lowered his voice slightly.

I couldn’t stifle the gasp that flew from my throat. His deep voice coupled with his intense green eyes caused a not-so-distant memory to surface in my mind no matter how hard I tried to press it down, even though it was a blurry one due to my drunk haze and the darkness that surrounded us in the corner of the club that night.

Professor Bennett reminded me of the mystery stranger from the other night too much.

I shook my head hard though. That was impossible.

It was so obvious now that it wasn’t him that I was mentally kicking myself. Yes, they both had captivating green eyes, but Professor Bennett was clean-shaven, while even in my drunken state, I had been hyper-aware of the beard I’d felt against my lips that night.

Just because they both had similar green eyes didn’t mean they were the same person!

I shook my head as I snapped back to the present. Professor Bennett looked like he was waiting for me to speak. I bit my lip. “Um, yes, sir. My mother loved Shakespeare and passed a lot of that down to me. We used to read the plays together.”

His hard expression softened.

Professor Bennett was insanely hot. I couldn’t deny that fact, but every second I stood here, it got harder to not to imagine what that night would have been like with the stern teacher.

The events of that night were a blur to begin with, but they seemed to get even hazier the more I tried to recall the facial features of my mysterious man, but that only intensified the sensation in my memory.

The blood on my face burned even hotter as I replayed the way his firm hands felt all over my body, the way he kissed me roughly.

Every nerve in my body had started to sing. That much I remembered.

What the hell, Ellie. Focus!

“Miss Collins.”

I looked up into Professor Bennett’s strict green eyes. His thin lips were pressed together in a line.

“Just this once. However, if you speak out that way again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

I felt my core heated at his words of “won’t be so forgiving.”

What was I thinking? Why was my body feel so warm thinking about him “punishing” me?

Gosh, stop your stupid mind, Ellie!

My throat tightened. “Okay.”

He stood up a bit taller, looking down at me. “While I appreciate your knowledge and passion of Shakespeare, you’ll do well to answer the questions given to you,” he said. Then he narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Have I made myself clear?”

My face once again burned, but I forced myself to stop swooning over my professor and answer the question directly as he demanded.

I firmed up my expression and nodded. “Yes. Perfectly.”

He nodded. “Very good. You may go.”

I turned to do so when something on his desk caught my eye. There was a lanyard on his desk, sticking out slightly of his duffle bag. It caught my eye because it was a vibrant, neon blue color with glowing purple clouds.

It was a lanyard from Neon Dreams.

I couldn’t keep the surprise from spreading out over my face. “Professor, may I ask you a question?”

Professor Bennett looked momentarily confused, but he nodded. “Yes, you may.”

I hesitated but asked before I could chicken out. “Do you go to Neon Dreams often?”

His expression darkened and I swallowed thickly, waving my hands in front of my face. “Sorry, sorry! I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that—”

He put up a hand to stop me once again. His expression was calm, almost bored.

“It would be inappropriate to pry into the private life of your professor, don’t you think?” His bright green orbs bore into me as he continued, “Just like it wouldn’t be appropriate for a professor to ask that kind of question of his student.”

I grimaced and ducked my head. “Yes, sir. I apologize.”

“You’re dismissed, Miss Collins.”

I bit my lip and fled from the room, trying to stomp down my embarrassment.

***

“So?”

I straightened the collar of my crisp white dress shirt before glancing at Mal questioningly. “So … what?” I asked.

Mal and I had just arrived at the tiny theater we worked at. I pushed the double glass doors open and gestured for her to walk in ahead of me.

She spun on her heel and pinned me with a look of disbelief. She put her hands on the hips of her black dress pants.

“You haven’t said one word about Professor Bennett’s class. I assume that means everything is completely fine and that the rumors are just extreme exaggerations?”

I just barely controlled my expression, keeping it passive. It had been hours since that encounter and I, contrary to what Mal thought, had actually been thinking about it non-stop.

I hesitated as Mal continued to glare at me because what was I supposed to tell her?

That he was extremely handsome, that I spoke when I shouldn’t, that… he reminded me of my Mysterious Man? Even though I trusted Mal. It just didn’t seem like a smart idea, especially now that we were in public.

I decided that I had to say something to ease Mal’s suspicion. I could complain about him, in fact, I had plenty of reasons to rant about him in the way that Mal was obviously expecting.

“I’d say he lives up to his reputation,” I said, grimacing as I thought about how nervous the entire class was throughout the whole session. “I’ve never been in a classroom so quiet. You would think we were all being led to the executioner.”

“Is he really that bad?” Mal asked with wide chocolate brown eyes. She sounded guilty, obviously still feeling responsible for me having to take the class.

“The class itself sounds like it’s going to be pretty fun,” I said, wanting to let her off the hook a little bit. “But Professor Bennett is terrifying. He almost looks like he wants to murder us sometimes. He gave us a pop quiz on the first day!”

Mal shook her head in disbelief. We made our way through the foyer of the tiny theater. Riverstone Theater was an older building, as many buildings in New York tended to be, but I also felt like it had a character with its wooden fixtures and dark colors. We waved at a couple of our fellow ushers as we entered the auditorium.

Mal and I huddled toward one side of the theater, near one of the emergency exits. The show wasn’t starting for another half hour but audience members were already starting to file in.

“Again, I’m sorry you had to enroll for that Shakespeare class,” Mal said after a moment.

“It’s fine,” I told her sincerely and waved her off. “I’ve had difficult professors in the past. I think I’ll be okay. I’m the goody-two-shoes scholarship girl, remember?”

Mal brightened, looking relieved. “Yeah, you probably get him to lighten up in no time.” However, she frowned immediately when I cringed.

“What?” she demanded.

I blew out a breath and told her about how I tried to impress the professor by answering the questions that were not asked of me.

“He’s probably out to get me now,” I said, my shoulders slumping.

Mal patted my back sympathetically but then stiffened. “Uh … Ellie?”

I followed her gaze, my jaw dropping when I saw Professor Bennett entering the theater.