ELEVEN

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"Kisses of fire, sweet devotions.

Caught in a landslide of emotions.

I've had my share of love affairs,

But they were nothing compared to this."

IRIS MONROE

October 18th, 2021

Three knocks on my door cause me to nearly sprint across my apartment from my bedroom.

The sudden noise accidentally spooks Midnight when I run past her, lounging on the couch. I cringe when I hear her nails scratch against the armrest before she launches down to the ground. Her back arched up with a puffed tail once I reach the door.

"Sorry," I turn back to her for a split second.

When I turn the knob and open the door widely, still in a hurry, Scarlett's eyes widen and look me up and down in shock.

The sight of her makes me let out a sigh of relief, "Finally."

"I saw you two hours ago at work," she points out flatly and confused. "I would have been here sooner if I didn't have to walk up five flights of stairs," she continues to point out the obvious while walking into my apartment.

My head falls in defeat, knowing there will never be a time when she doesn't remind me this building's elevator is broken. Trust me; I know it is. Yes, it sucks. No, my landlord doesn't care.

As I shut the door, I lean my back against it as my nerves boil over in my stomach. They have been all day long...and the past three days. Even more so, I have a tutoring session with Naomi tomorrow, and there's a chance that I will eventually be face-to-face with Harry.

The thought makes me inhale sharply while I tilt my head back against the door, making a small thud.

"Did you call me over to tell me why you've been so weird all day?" She asks while walking over to my couch.

"Sort of," I mumble under my breath.

I have been fumbling over my words or running into students' desks all day. I misspelled at least one word each time I wrote on the dry-erase board. The only positive thing was each time, my students pointed it out and corrected me.

It was both a proud moment but also incredibly humbling. At least I was doing something right.

During recess and lunchtime was even worse because it was just Scarlett and me in the classroom.

I have always hated keeping secrets of any kind. They make me overly anxious, and I find it much easier just to be honest. Believe me. I see the irony of that fact and my current situation.

It helped when I was honest with her about tutoring. Some of the pressure of hiding something was slightly relieved. It was enough for me to be able to take a deep breath and usually function around her until now.

Just as she's about to sit down where she always does, she notices my stature and exasperated expression.

"Why do you look constipated?" She asks with a hint of concern for my well-being.

Her blatant question makes me crack a smile, which eventually shifts into a soft chuckle, and I gain the courage to push myself off the door. I start walking over to the couch, feeling utterly sick to my stomach with nerves.

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