No One Has To Know

-5-

Song: Wasted

Artist: Demi Lovato

*~*~*~*~*

Heather woke up with a terrible headache. She squinted her eyes open, and the bright sunlight coming through the window didn't help much. She looked around and gasped when she saw things she didn't recognize. There was a painting of a bull above a fireplace, and the floor was not at all like the floor at her apartment. Fuck, where is my phone? She thought, her heart pounding. What if I've been kidnapped?!

She turned over and grabbed her phone from the coffee table. The first thing she saw was ten messages and three missed calls from Cody. The latest message read: Heather, are you ok?! Please answer me!! He had sent it five hours ago, and it was 9:00 in the morning now.

Heather decided to wait to answer him. Let's not jump to conclusions, she told herself. I don't know if I've been abducted yet. She kept her phone firmly in her grasp as she slowly got up. She combed back through her memory. What happened last night? She suddenly remembered getting completely hammered at a bar and talking to this random guy. I still have my clothes on, so that's good.

She froze when she heard a clinking noise in the room behind her. She ducked and stuck her head up far enough to where she could see. She had to do a double-take. Alejandro was sitting at his dining table with a glass of orange juice and a couple of pieces of toast.

Heather held her breath and gathered as much courage as she could. She stood up, exposing herself. "What the hell am I doing here?!"

Alejandro raised his eyebrows. He calmly sat down his drink and looked at her. "I am afraid you were too drunk to give me your address."

"...Fuck, seriously?" Heather groaned.

"Sí, seriamente."

She glared at him. "What?" Alejandro retorted. "Have an issue with me speaking my native language, señorita?"

Heather crossed her arms. "I feel like you're not taking me seriously when you do that."

"And why do you think that?" Asked Alejandro, one eyebrow raised.

"Ugh! I don't know! I feel like you use that Spanish shit to pick up girls!"

He laughed. "Do you want toast?"

"Pfft, no!" Heather looked at his plate as if it had something disgusting on it. "I would never eat your toast!"

Alejandro sighed. "Heather, do you remember what happened last night?"

"Not entirely. What?" She sat on the arm of the couch. Alejandro was irked by that, but he decided to ignore it for now.

"Some guy tried to—take advantage of you, and I escorted you home," he said.

Heather scoffed. "What? No, that's not..." she looked off to the side. Flashes of a man's face filled her mind. Brown hair, brown eyes, a dark smile...her eyes went wide. "I remember him now. His stupid name was Steven," she muttered.

Alejandro pursed his lips. He didn't know how to talk to her about it, so he remained silent, taking a bite of his toast. Heather got off the couch and awkwardly sat across from her professor.

"So," she began, "why was your ass at the bar?"

Alejandro washed his toast down with orange juice, then cleared his throat. "You could have asked the question more politely, but I was at the bar for reasons that are none of your business as my student."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Really? You're not gonna tell me just because I'm your student? That makes me want to know even more. And—ew, now I already have an idea," she scrunched up her face.