Jaime

Her touch was so tender, and she was looking at me the way I had longed for since stepping foot on this campus two years ago.

Two Years Ago

I had gotten glimpses of the chocolate brown locks and her long legs in her pencil skirt and chunky Mary Janes. My first thought was that she was way too pretty to be a professor here, and then I realized that my thoughts were more than just a passing appreciation for the beauty of another woman. I wanted to make up some excuse to talk to her, find out more about her, and see her face up close.

My roommate was a senior and knew most of the professors around campus. I decided to inquire into her identity and prayed that I wouldn't look like a total stalker when I showed her the picture I had taken on my phone. I should have just approached her myself, but how weird would it be to ask her which subject she taught and then show up in her class directly after? I trusted my roommate to keep my secrets after a year of bunking together. When I got home that night, I knocked on her door, hoping that she was home.

"Noelle, are you in there?" I knocked and waited, chewing on my nails, a habit I thought I had outgrown. The nervousness was rearing its ugly head. I was attracted to a woman for the first time in my life; did I tell her or did I play it off like I was getting the information for a friend? She totally wouldn't buy it. I suck at lying, and she knows all of my tells. But would she still be comfortable with me as a roommate? I still liked guys, so did that make me bisexual? I guess. I had only just broken up with my boyfriend a few months back because the distance was finally starting to take its toll. We hardly saw each other anymore, and it didn't make sense to try to hold on to something that was unraveling by the second.

The door flew open to reveal my roommate in a massive sweatshirt with dripping hair.

"Sorry, I was throwing some clothes on, what's up?"

"Netflix and chill, tonight? I want to talk to you about something," I asked, avoiding her eyes. I desperately hoped that I wasn't pushing one of her boundaries by talking about this or worse, that she was homophobic or a religious zealot. We kind of avoided controversial topics, but I had met her family a few times. They didn't strike me as bible-toters.

"Is anything wrong?" she asked. She wasn't stupid; the last time we had done this was when I broke up with Graison and even though we both agreed it was best, I still lamented my high school sweetheart. He was a monumental part of some of the best years of my life and like most naive girls, I thought that we would be together forever. I was so swept up in him that I wasn't sure if my sudden curiosity was always there or ignited by this woman alone.

"Nope, not at all. I just want to have some wine and pizza and watch cheezy romcoms."

Her eyebrow lifted, and she placed her hands on her hips. See, I'm a terrible liar.

"Something is off, spill it, sister."

"Okay, I'm freaking out a little. I think I'm having an existential crisis, and I need to talk."

"Existential crises, I can handle. I'll order the pizza, You get the wine glasses. Hell, this sounds like just what I need after getting my schedule for this semester. I don't know why I am doing this to myself," she mumbled as she went back into her room for her phone.

I turned to head toward the kitchen and searched the cabinets for the wine glasses. I had to stand on my tiptoes to grab them from the top shelf. My palms were sweating, and they almost slipped right through them. Geez, you would think I was about to confess in a church. It's just Noelle. She's your girl, your ride-or-die bitch. Luckily, we had quite the stash on hand, and I popped off the cork for a bottle of Riesling. Filling the glasses to the brim because it was going to be that kind of night, I heard her yell, "Pepperoni, right?"

"Yea!" I yelled back. I brought the glasses to our small, but cozy living room and started flipping through the channels, looking for something cute and upbeat. I came across The Devil Wears Prada. Anne Hathaway was pretty cute; she reminded me of the mysterious woman plaguing my thoughts. Noelle plopped down, facing me as she grabbed a glass of wine.

"Okay, first off, is this enough wine for what you have to tell me?" She asked, laughing.

"Probably not, just settle in for a long night. Do you have classes tomorrow?"

"No, thank God. I'm over this semester already, and it just started." Noelle was a biochemistry major; it was boggling to me the amount of credits she needed.

"So um, I don't know exactly how to say this or even what it really means, but I'm interested in someone."

"Oh honey, that's great! I'm happy you have finally moved on from Graison. Who is it? What's his name?" She babbled excitedly while sipping.

"What's her name?" I muttered quietly, gulping my drink. I could tell she was confused by her expression. This was so much harder to say out loud.

"Come again?" she asked.

"You asked what was his name, but the person I'm interested in is a woman."

"Oh shit! Okay, what is her name?"

"I'm not sure. I was kind of hoping you could help with that. I think she is a professor on campus." Her jaw dropped, and she just stared at me as if I had grown another head. She drained her glass and got up to grab the bottle from the kitchen counter. When she had refilled her glass, the doorbell rang. I quickly got up to answer it and allowed her to get her bearings. I knew that this would come as a shock; I have never once given her an inclination that I liked girls. Hell, I didn't even know. I crammed pizza in my mouth to avoid answering whatever question she was about to ask.

"Well fuck," she said after hiccuping and then proceeded to giggle uncontrollably. Sweat was gathering in every crevice of my body. I was positive my shirt was proof of my embarrassing truth. My fingers tapped restlessly against my folded legs. Was she laughing at me? Was I not pretty enough to bag a girl? I had always been pretty confident in my looks before; I was slim with moderate curves, and I took great pride in my skin and hair.

"I never took you for a woman who would bang her professor, but I commend you. You're a woman after my own heart."

"Wait, I just told you that I am attracted to a woman and you only heard that she is a professor."

"Oh please babe, being queer is not an inconceivable offense. At least, not in my book. I don't care who I tangle tongues with as long as they know how to use it," she said, wiggling her tits at me. The girl was sloshed.

"Are you saying that you are bisexual and never told me?" I was shocked, but most of all, relieved that I wasn't going to lose my best friend.

"I'm pansexual. I don't care about gender in the slightest. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I didn't see a reason to. My private life is my own; I don't feel the need to flaunt my sexuality. It's just not me, but I'm happy you have confided in me."

"My stomach has been in knots over the thought of losing you as a friend, to be honest."

"I'm not going anywhere, babe." She one-armed hugged me, never letting go of that wine glass. I was still on my first and she was on her third, I think.

"Wait a minute, you said I was a woman after your own heart. Does that mean you had your sights set on a certain teacher?" I waggled my brows while teasing her, the wine slowly loosening me up.

"Not a teacher, no…"

I gave her a look that said to spill the tea. She knew my deepest, darkest secret, and I would never betray her trust. I was closer to Noelle than my own mother, though I loved her. This was not something you told your mother; it was verboten and downright reckless. I could get kicked out of school if I ever acted upon these damn thoughts, but they tempted me all the same. How did the saying go? Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest and God, did I want to taste hers.

"He's kind of my umm… godbrother," she whispered. Her face was flushed, whether from embarrassment, arousal, or the wine, I couldn't begin to postulate. I raised a brow at her because she couldn't say something like that and not share what the man looked like. She seemed to take the hint as she pulled out her phone and showed me a picture. My jaw dropped because handsome was a mediocre adjective to describe the deific man smiling in the picture.

"I know," she huffed. "Fuck, I know. I've tried to resist. I've avoided him like the plague, but he finds ways to insert himself into my orbit. A collision is becoming inevitable," she sighed, exasperated but there was an anticipatory gleam in her eye. When they finally did collide, I had a feeling no one would be prepared for that meteor shower, not even them. Not that I was in a place to give advice.

"Well, I can tell what you think of him," she said laughing. "What about your lady professor? Let's see if I know her."

It was my turn to hold up my phone and show her the photo that I had taken from across campus. All you could see was her side profile; her rich chocolate waves swayed in the breeze, her hips and breasts were shapely, and a hint of a smile showed as she held her coffee and chatted with another professor. I blushed as Noelle whistled and said, "That… is Professor Valois. She teaches French language and culture. I can see why you were so conflicted; she would make any woman question their sexuality. Luckily, I have no problems admitting that she is one of the most attractive women I have ever seen, especially for her age."

"How old is she?" Surely, she couldn't be more than 30 or 31.

"From what I remember she is almost 40 and married."

"Married?" I squeaked. I was having improper thoughts about a married woman! What was I thinking? It was like someone threw a bucket of ice water on my flaming libido. She probably wasn't even into women; I don't even know if I would enjoy fucking a woman. This was all just theoretical babbling between friends. After all, college was the time to explore your interests, experiment a little, and unpack your identity…right?

All I knew for sure was that I was intrigued by her…fascinated by her demeanor. I wanted to know more about her; I wanted to finally see her smile. I wanted to learn whatever she was teaching. Perhaps the attraction was innocent and even friendly; she had an aura that just pulled you in. Besides, breaking up a happy home was never a goal of mine, and there were far too many single people in the world to poach those who weren't.

"I think I'm gonna enroll in her class." Just to satisfy my curiosity, that's all. It has to be.