Nocturne

“This gets me in the mood for spring break!” I hollered into Nathan’s ear as he led me straight to the dance floor.

 

Tomorrow was our last day of classes before spring break, and even though I wasn’t going anywhere tropical, music got me in the mood to relax for a week. We had a pretty important composition due in Fitzgerald’s class in the morning, but I wrote mine a week ago. Over the course of the semester, I'd spent more time on each paper, but received worse grades. I don’t think he really paid attention to my words, though. If he did, I’d certainly have been getting a better grade than I was. Given the grades in the rest of my classes, it didn’t really matter what I got in his theory class. But I was determined to prove that his word was not gospel. He disagreed every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, any chance he got.

 

“What’s with the look on your face, doll?” Nathan leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. “You’re not still thinking about … him … are you?”

 

“No.” I shook my head, smiling up at the curly-haired hottie. Nathan was a few inches taller than me, muscular but lanky. But he had this gorgeous hair and that adorable dimple that made me smile whenever it appeared.

 

“Prove it,” Nathan teased as he spun me around before pulling me so close I could easily smell the Ivory soap he used.

 

“I’m so sad you’re graduating this year.” I gave an exaggerated pout as we waited for the band to set up their next song.

 

“Ah, come on…” He grabbed my waist and kissed my forehead.

 

“I’m serious, Nathan. You’ve been a huge part of my life since I was ten, for God’s sake. Now I’ll have one more year here while you are … where?” I hadn’t asked about his plans after graduation, since he was highly superstitious about the whole application and audition process.

 

“We’ll be fine, Savannah. You went years only seeing me in the summer.” He sighed, spinning me in another circle as the band started up again.

 

“I know, but I’ve been spoiled the last three, getting to see you every day. I like that. Come on, spill it: tell me where you’re auditioning.” I set my hands on his broad shoulders as we moved in time with the salsa coming from the stage.

 

Nathan shook his head. “You know I won’t, Savannah. Just … trust me, okay?”

 

Before the song was over, I caught a shockingly out of place figure at the bar, causing me to stop and stare.

 

“What?” Nathan asked, turning around.

 

“He dances?” I gestured to Gregory Fitzgerald, who was sitting next to the same blonde woman he’d been with at my mother’s opera. Since the opera I’d seen her on campus once, coming out of the endowment offices.

 

He was dressed more casually than I was used to seeing him, but just slightly so. Black was definitely his color. I often mocked his monochromatic color palette in my head while staring at him during our lectures, but in the club tonight it looked just right. While the snug black t-shirt almost made him invisible in the shadows of the bar, his eyes commanded my attention. In the classroom they sometimes felt like icicles, sending nausea over anyone they came across because you really didn’t want to be on the other end of a debate with him. Well, I did. It excited me to go back and forth with him. I wasn’t usually one for classroom debates—especially on things that there wasn’t much to debate about. But, with him I couldn’t seem to help it. Before I knew it, my eyes were resting on his shoulders, tight from years of playing. They were usually hidden under the suit coats he wore to class. Not tonight.

 

Wow.

 

Nathan let out a full-throated laugh, apparently ignoring the fact that I was blatantly staring at our handsome professor. “What in God’s name is he doing in here?”

 

“Let’s go find out.” I grabbed Nathan’s hand and led him up the three stairs to the bar area.

 

“What are you going to say to him?” Nathan’s lips grazed my ear as he talked.

 

“I’ll figure it out on the walk.”

 

When we got up to the bar, Nathan ordered me a cosmopolitan and himself a beer. My back was to the woman, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. There were words passing between them, though, which seemed to be a small miracle in itself. I drank the cosmopolitan in three sips, and Nathan downed his beer. He tilted his chin to the good professor behind me, and butterflies danced erratically in my stomach at the prospect of approaching him.

 

“Your cheeks are red …” Nathan raised an eyebrow.

 

“I just swallowed my drink whole, Nathan.” I gestured with my empty glass to try to cover up what Gregory was doing to my body. “Gimme a minute.”

 

I took a deep breath and turned around, blushing deeper when I saw that Gregory was already looking at me. Studying me. His eyes moved up the length of my body, hitching my breath as they slowed over my curves. As I stepped forward, his eyes shot to mine, maybe hoping he hadn’t been caught.

 

He had.

 

“I’ve never seen you here before.” I smiled as he shifted in his seat. He mumbled something absolutely unintelligible given the band was in the middle of a salsa number. I had to lean in so our faces were inches apart. “What?”

 

He sucked in a quick breath. So close to my ear it caused goosebumps down that side of my body. “I said, do you come here often, Miss Marshall?”

 

I laughed, causing him to furrow his brow.

 

“What?’

 

“It’s Savannah. Please, call me Savannah, Greg—” I stopped short, covering my mouth and silently cursing the vodka for making me call him by his first name. It wasn’t the vodka at all, but that was as good an alibi as any.

 

Mr. Fitzgerald grinned before taking a quick sip from a short glass filled with what I assumed was a something and tonic. “It’s okay, Savannah …” He shrugged, not offering anymore.

 

His features were relaxed as I nodded, breathless at the way he pressed his lips together after sipping his drink. I’d forgotten about the woman he was with, until she cleared her throat.

 

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