My Professor

8. Dinner

That weekend, I found myself in what was becoming a familiar situation - my roommates were being loud. I wasn't doing homework, though, I just wanted to enjoy my book, so I didn't bother them about quieting down. Instead, I chose to leave the apartment and take myself out to dinner.

It sounded like the perfect night, just me and my current read over a nice hot plate of pasta - so I went to a small, hole in the wall Italian restaurant on the other side of town and got a table for one.

I'd just finished reading another chapter with a glass of wine when I received my entree, my personal favorite, butternut squash ravioli.  I was looking forward to diving in when I looked across the restaurant and recognized a very particular blonde entering the restaurant and grabbing a seat at the bar.

I was a far from him as I could be, at a small two-seater table in the corner of the room, tucked away from the hubub of the rest of the dining room, and I wondered if I should've called out to Theodore and waved him over. I had a fresh glass of wine and an extra chair, but what stopped me was the temptation, itself. We were being professional, and considering our record, perhaps dinner together wasn't the best choice.

I decided to leave him alone, returning to my attention to my plate and commencing in enjoy my meal. I set my book next to my plate and flipped it open, casting a quick glance up at Theodore, just because I could. From where I was sitting, I could see him sitting at the bar looking over the menu with a book next to him, as well. I smiled to myself and continued to resist the urge to call him over.

Throughout my meal, I continued to mind my own business, but I did indulge in a few looks in his direction. I was behind him, so I was safe from him catching me in the act. Or so I thought. Just as I'd finished my meal, I looked over at him, just in time for him to glance over his shoulder in my direction. He spotted me immediately.

Surprised, Theodore smiled and waved. Shortly after, he abandoned his meal at the bar and walked over to my table. I was too flushed with wine and relaxed from a good book to be embarrassed by the unfolding ordeal; I simply greeted him with a smile when he approached.

"Hi," I grinned.

"Hi," he replied with a smile in return. "Are you following me?"

"Not at all. Care to join me?" All night I'd been resisting him, but the opportunity was too good. I said the words before my mind could process what I was doing.

"Don't mind if I do," he said, taking a seat across from me. "What brings you here?"

"Dinner and some time alone with a good book. What about you?"

"Same, actually," Theodore replied, lifting his book to show me before setting it on the table. It was the same book I was working on.

"You're reading it!" I enthused.

"Yes," he said.

"And how do you like it so far?"

"It's pretty good, but I'm more interested in hearing your thoughts," he countered.

I indulged him, and we spoke about the book for a good while, enjoying each other's company.

"What did you order tonight?" Theodore asked me, changing the subject.

"Butternut squash ravioli. My favorite," I told him.

"I considered that. I ended up getting the lasagne."

"You'll have to try it next time. It's wonderful!"
"I will, though the squash reminds me more of Thanksgiving."

"We're getting there," said. "It's already mid-October."

"Very true. Are you going home for the holiday?" Theodore asked.

"No, I'm not going to be able to celebrate this year. Home for me is Texas, and that's a plane ticket I'm saving for winter break."

"That's a shame. Though, I don't blame you."

"It's alright. I'll be back next year. This is my final year in school."

"Oh, really? And what will you be getting your degree in?"

"English. I want to be a published author one day."

"That's quite a goal. What do you write?"

"Nothing much outside of school work," I admitted. "I'm waiting until the graduation to really dive into a project. I've been developing a few different concepts, but I haven't been able to commit to one yet."

"Well, you still have plenty of time."

"True," I agreed. "Still, it can be pretty daunting."

"It certainly sounds like it," he chucked. "I know I couldn't do it. I don't have a creative bone in my body."

"Really?" I asked, interested. "What do you do then? For fun?"

"I enjoy cooking," he expalined, "as well as chess."

Our conversation continued from there until I realized I'd been taking up that table for two hours and thought it was probably time to open it for the next guest.

"Would you like me to drive you home?" Theodore offered when I wobbled a bit when I stood up. I was probably fine, I'd only had two glasses during the first hour, but I seized the opportunity anyway.

"If you don't mind," I replied.

He held the restaurant door open for me as we entered the parking lot and I followed him toward a white Subaru. I climbed into the passenger seat and was immediately aware what difference the quiet made. There was no more din of the restaurant, the chatter and hubbub was gone. It was just the two of us, Theodore and me, alone in the dark of his car.

He asked me where I lived as he started the car, and, to my deep embarrassment, I had to admit to living on campus. He didn't pay any mind to that detail, though, chatting with me just has he had in the restaurant as he drove me home.
Too soon, he pulled up to the curb right outside my building and put the car in neutral.

"Thanks for driving me home," I said, stalling a little.

"It's no problem at all," he replied. "I had fun tonight."

"I did, too. I wish we could rewind the night and do it over again," I admitted.

Theodore looked over and gave me a meaningful look.

"You know..." he began. "The Milton Museum of Modern Art is hosting a new exhibit right now and I've been meaning to go. I think I'll finally stop by to check it out. Maybe around 2pm."

"That sounds like fun," I said, blushing. I didn't want to assume he meant what I thought he was insinuating.

"It's not too far, actually. Maybe a thirty minute drive from here," he added.

"Two o' clock?" I asked.

Theodore smiled. "Yes. Two o' clock."

"I should go," I returned his smile before unbuckling. "Goodnight, Theodore. Thanks again."

"Goodnight, Indigo. It was nice to see you — as usual."