Become

I woke up with a violent snore, scaring myself and scrambling to the corner. With my blanket clutched in my hands and held to my chest, I let out a sigh of relief to see no one else was in the room with me. Raine would have teased me relentlessly for the rest of our lives if she witnessed that.

At my piano rested a note, precisely folded and propped up so I would see it. I rubbed my eyes and covered my mouth as a big yawn left it. I remembered how John dealt with the drunk Viviana, but the memory didn't bring back a good feeling. If anything I scared him away. The note, on the other hand, said the complete opposite. I picked it up and returned to my corner before carefully unfolding it and gluing my eyes to John's black ink scrawl.

Vivi,

When you wake up, come to my office.

My best,
John.

I glanced around to see if anyone else saw the contents of the message, and proceeded to change my clothes and stuff the note into my coat pocket after lighting one of the cigarettes Raine left behind. She went to buy a whole carton anyway. My vision still spun a little and my footing felt wobbly, so I hadn't slept off all of the bourbon, but I could function now. More students milled about the campus and I earned a few stares as I went into the building where John's office was. This time I didn't knock before barging into his office, but I did check my reflection in the frosted window embedded in the door.

"It's still daylight, I'm impressed," John said, never looking up from his desk before addressing me.

"As you should be," I grunted, dropping hard onto one of the pair of chairs across from him. "What's this about?"

"I wanted to make sure we were on the same page," he said seriously, finally looking up from one of the many files stacked neatly on his desk. I rolled my eyes. Here we go. "You're acting rather--"

"Strange? Like a jealous, vindictive lover when I have no right to be such a thing? I know," I said, crossing one leg over the other. John swallowed and then cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I am dreadfully jealous of her. Jealousy makes women do ridiculous things."

"Ah, we've dropped the robotic persona, have we?"

"We both know I'm hardly robotic," I said wryly, and he let out a short chuckle. "So why is this Anna woman here? To torture you?" He gave me a suffering look before answering.

"I told you, she took up my offer to see the Shakespeare play next weekend," John said, clasping his hands together. "Apparently her most recent fling didn't work out, so now she's visiting me here in America."

"To torture you."

"You're doing it again."

"It doesn't make what I say any less true," I pointed out. "Plus I'm disappointed I can't go see the play now."

"I'm sure Raine can keep you occupied for one night," he said, leaning back in his office chair. "Anna thinks she can convince me to come back to London at the end of this academic year." My shorter-than-usual fuse burned up.

"Like hell she can!" I shouted, slamming my fist onto his desk. "Why are you indulging her?"

"Why do you care?" John's voice rose to just below a shout, and he sat up very straight in his chair. Much quieter, he repeated himself: "Why do you care?" I worked my mouth soundlessly, deciding against saying anything that came to mind. Finally, I took a deep breath and let it out very slowly and decided to say something when I would usually stay quiet.

"I don't want you to be unhappy," I said, avoiding eye contact. "It--uh...it upsets me."

"Why in the world would you feel upset about the feelings of your theater professor?" he asked in the same quiet voice, making his voice deeper than usual. This time I sighed in frustration.

"Do you have to hear me say it?" I asked irritably, and he didn't answer. I reluctantly looked up to see his pale blue eyes boring a hole into my skull. "I care about you, and I like you." He wasn't getting any more than that. I knew deep down I felt a whole lot more than that, but I didn't give them any serious thought. In an attempt to convince him to drop the subject, I held his eyes. What a huge mistake. I really didn't want to know what waited there for me.

On the first day of class, I memorized the way he demonstrated "becoming" to the class. The way he could cry on command like a preteen girl, the loving gaze, the familiar and genuinely happy smile, and the cold, murderous fury; what I saw was the loving gaze, but John wasn't acting. My face must have been an open book for the full five seconds it took for me to realize what was going on. He reached slowly across his desk to hold my hands, and I didn't pull them away and let his big, warm hands embrace my smaller, cold ones.

"Vivi, I--"

"Don't," I interrupted, my voice high-pitched and panicky, "say anything. You don't have to. I know exactly how you feel." He lifted an eyebrow, but he heard the fear in my tone. And he smiled.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," John said, and we shared an understanding glance before he let go of my hands. "We should spend some time apart."

"Yes," I agreed, my anxiety fading. "Time apart is good."

"Christmas break starts tomorrow," he said. "I'll see you again when classes start back up." I rolled his suggestion around in my head, contemplating what three weeks of no John Arthur would be like, and nodded in agreement. Three weeks was hardly any time at all. "Good. Well, I suppose I'll see you next term, Vivi." We both stood, and at any other time the close, tight hug would have been awkward, but we were on the "same page" now.

I walked in a much straighter line back to my dormitory and puffed through two cigarettes. The anxiety returned after I left and it wouldn't go away. Well, at least I called it anxiety. Raine had other thoughts.

"I should check you for hickies," Raine said loudly. "You look like you just got done with a heavy petting session with your sexy theater professor. I'm jealous."

"Nothing happened," I told her for the third time. "We made a deal that we will spend the next three weeks apart." Raine snorted with laughter, clutched two cigarettes between her lips and lit them, and handed one to me.

"You look nothing like a woman who will do anything of the sort," she said, mimicking John's accent, and I narrowed my eyes at her. "I've lived with you for the last few months; don't glare at me. It's obvious you are head-over-heels for Mr. John Arthur, even if you won't admit it to yourself."

"I am not some ridiculous phrase for anyone," I snapped. "I like him, and he likes me. That's it."

"Wait, what?" Raine's joking tone transformed into something much more serious. "He likes you?"

"Of course, isn't it obvious?" I mocked, and sighed when she didn't even crack a smile. "Oh, don't make a big deal out of it."

"But it's a big deal, Vivi," Raine said. "You'll get expelled, and Mr. Arthur will lose his job. You're allowed to crush on your professors but your professors should not crush back."

"Stop calling him Mr. Arthur, it's John," I corrected, but she plowed on.

"You'll ruin his reputation," Raine said.

"He's ruining his own reputation."

"You sure as hell aren't helping."

"Are you going home for Christmas break?" I asked, attempting to change the subject. Raine gave me a nice, long and hard stare before sighing and shaking her head.

"No, my parents are broke," she answered, and I turned on my heel to dig through my desk drawer. I found my debit card and handed it to her. "What's this?"

"Your ticket home," I said. "Go online, buy a ticket and go see your parents. I have to get off of this campus for a couple weeks anyway, and I don't want you to be alone." She looked at the card with skepticism, but finally she smiled.

"This is a pathetic apology for dragging me into the middle of your hot and steamy affair with your teacher."

"I'll have my dad throw a few thousand dollars in there for your trouble," I said, and she laughed. "I have to get going."

"If anything happens, you have to call me," Raine called after me, hopping onto her computer with my debit card in her hand. I just smiled and left the dormitory.

* * *

The first week home felt like being dragged through a bed of razorblades. My mother wouldn't stop jabbering about John and how amazing he was, or how impressed she was with my acting, and how she was so disappointed he wouldn't be joining us for Christmas. At first I thought three weeks without seeing John would be good for me, but it was, in fact, the complete opposite.

Within the first twenty-four hours I smoked two packs of cigarettes, played a cruel prank on Blaire, ate an entire pizza and most importantly, I obtained a ticket to the sold out "A Midsummer Night's Dream" play that started in approximately eleven hours. Bribery was an ugly business, but I wasn't missing that play for anything. Especially when it gave me a chance to see how John really felt about this horrible Anna woman.=

I stood in my big closet, sitting on the overstuffed loveseat with a flute of champagne as I debated on what I would wear. Where I would be sitting I would have to be very, very well dressed. After draining my first glass of champagne, I wandered to the least-visited section of the room and peeked through the tops of the plastic-covered dresses. I traded my empty glass for the whole chilled bottle of bubbly.

"No, no...no, maybe, no...oh, here we go," I mumbled, taking one of my newer dresses from its hanger. It was a long, elegant sparkling thing fit to be on the red carpet. My father picked it out when him and my mother visited Paris. My sisters had dresses that looked similar, only in different colors; mine was black and silver.

Yes, I was going to go and spy on my theater professor and no, I didn't find anything wrong with that.