Second Choice

First Day of Class (Updated)

"Let's try to refrain from using that kind of language in my classroom, shall we? Miss.." The college professor with the same baby blue eyes and wavy dirty blonde hair sets down his cup of coffee on the desk and waits for me to answer. 

I stare, dumbfounded, realizing for the last several days I have been allowing the professor into my home and worse shamelessly showing up half-ass naked at the door. 

He raises his eyebrow. "Well, do you have a name?" Several students cover their mouths and laugh.

Several times, I attempt to answer him. With each breath, my phone begins to buzz in my pocket.

"Is there a problem?" He asks, looking me straight in the eyes.

"No. No, there isn't. My name is Bailey McDowell." 

"See, that wasn't so hard. Take a seat, Bailey McDowell...and please watch your language from now on." He walks towards his desk while I scurry to mine.

"Yes, Mr. Um, Professor  Um... Fu-" He whips his head around when I almost slipped again.

"Professor Spaulding." 

"Yes, sir." Several students snicker.

"That's enough. Settle down. Let's begin with page two-fifty-six on compound words." The students moan, but I quietly settle in and take notes to take my mind off the catastrophe.

The rest of the class flows better until he stops by and reminds me it is a requirement to have a laptop for the course by the end of the week. "Yes. Sir," Is all I can say. He smirks and keeps walking.

The bell rings, and the students get up and gather their books. Some hold hands while others follow each other out the door. I quickly pick my book and shove it in my bag. My phone buzzed again. I pull it out of my pocket to see who it is. Dusty's name pops across the screen. Dusty!

As I tap his name on the screen to see what the message says, the professor calls my name, "Miss McDowell."

"Hey, How..." was all I got to see before could stare back at the blonde-haired man sipping his cold coffee at the desk.

  I sigh and put away my cell phone. "Yes, sir."

"May I speak to you for a minute?" His voice is more professional than this morning. It seems.

"Yes, of course," I mumbled nervously.

I gather the rest of my school supplies, purse, backpack, and walk around his long dark cherry wooden desk. I notice each stack of papers is neatly organized, and there are chrome pen and pencil holders and black trays for the student's paperwork. In all my life, I have never seen a man so organized as him. He was calm, relaxed, and organized. It makes no sense to me.

"Yes, Mr. Spaulding?"

He slowly rolls his pencil back and forth between his fingers. A tiny smirk slides across his face. "How was your coffee this morning?"

"Um, it was warm and... sweet. Thanks."

I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying to figure out what to say or do. The man is my professor, for God's sake. My phone buzzes again.

"Oh, by the way, make sure you turn your phone off during class. I hate for you to get in trouble for something like that." His eyes become dark as he looks towards my pants pocket.

I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks get hot the way he stares at me. "Yes, Sir."

"Well, I better not be late for my next class. Who knows what my next professor will be like." I joke.

For the first time, he watches me with an unreadable expression. Just as quickly, it disappears. "We wouldn't want that, would we? Should I walk you to class?"

"Very funny, Mr. Spaulding." I cough and back away to the door. "Okay,  well, see you around." 

"Wait," he says, but I don't. I leave before he says much more.

I run down the hallway in between the students. It doesn't take long for me to find the last empty bathroom stall. I close the bathroom door and shut the toilet lid down and sit to see what the message says from Dusty.

"Hey... How was your first day at college?"

"How were the teachers?"

"I bet the lines for registrations were brutal."

"You better not be picking up guys already! Haha, jk jk!"

"Lol."

"Damn. Maybe you are, and that is why I haven't heard from you."

"Oh s**t. I forget class times are different than high school."

"Are you in class?"

My shoulders slump in relief when I see that everything is okay. It is nice to see no emergencies, just Dusty texting me like the good old times. I respond, in hopes that he is there. 

"I  am here, lol. I just left my first period."

"Oh, my bad."

"Did you remember to turn on your silence, or did you f**k up like you did in Ms. Butterton's class?"

"Nope. I did great." I lied, but there was no sense in worrying Dusty.

"Mhmm." Even from another town, Dusty could see right through me.

"What? you don't believe me?"

"Nope." I shake my head and laugh. What could I say to that?

"Are you settling in your new house, okay?" My heart becomes heavy again. Even though they say home is where you make it, my new place was not home yet. I just wasn't feeling it.

"Everything is different here, Dusty."

"Everything is different here too, Bailey."

"I wish I could believe that, Dusty. Nothing ever changed at home. Ever."

"It will be one day for you. You just wait and see." 

"I sure hope so."

Three dots rolled across my phone for the longest time. I wait and wait, feeling my ass tingling and legs going numb beneath me from sitting on the toilet for so long. The final bell rings. I hear the hallways clear out. The students are all going to their next classes while I stare and my phone, waiting to hear from my best friend. Nothing else matters. Nothing...  

"Well, before I go. How are you holding up?" 

"I'm fine."

"And your mom?"

The phone becomes silent again.

"Is she using again?"

"Yea. I found her unconscious on the floor when I got home from work last night."

"Oh, Dusty.  She just got out of the hospital too."

The knot in my throat felt thick; my nausea in my stomach was rising. I felt so bad for Dusty.

"I know. Mom does this a lot, but the last time it almost killed her."

"I know it did. I am so sorry, Dusty."

"It's not your fault. You did everything you could, and more..."

"It's just thought..."

"What is it, Dusty? Please tell me."

"I just thought this time she would have finally stopped, but I guess I was wrong."

"My Dad, he went through that too. When he drank."

"I remember... I'm sorry. I  have got to go, Bailey."

"Yeah, me too, Bye."

I knew that was the last I would hear of Dusty, and I also knew there was no way I could function the rest of the day at school, thinking of the professor, Dusty, and my Dad, so I skipped and ran home where I lay my head down and drifted back to the day Daddy picked me up from school three sheets to the wind.