5. Sofia
5
SOFIA
B irdie is such a special young lady. It’s obvious that she’s lonely, even with as wonderful as she is. It makes me wonder why.
Whatever it is, it’s ramped up her creativity. That girl is brilliant. Lots of time to practice can shape talent into something fierce. Her paintings are stunning. The texture she constructs with the paint creates dimension in an innovative way. I’d hang her work up in my townhouse in a heartbeat.
Connecting with Birdie lights a fire under my ass. I want to imbue more creativity into my own project. Beyond simply trying new things and catching my progress, morphing my approach to the empowerment box, I want to allow myself room to tap into as much creativity and fun as I can.
I want to remind myself of what it was like to freely create without worrying about how my boss, my sponsors, or my teachers will react to it. No grades. No paycheck. Just unadulterated fun.
My list of possible outings and events for my project floods me, and it takes me less than ten minutes to compile a long, long list with potential.
I find myself sinking into the naughty thoughts that plagued me last night. I forgot how big Braxton is, a mountain of a man who didn’t seem so intimidating in front of a classroom—most teachers seem larger than life when they’re up front.
But at his house, with him in those fitted slacks and tight button-up shirt. How he’d rolled up the sleeves to reveal his beefy forearms. The way the thin fabric stretched across his shoulders and chest and biceps…
I’d never separated him from the teacher, from the friendship he has with my dad. But taking him out of context, without something else as a buffer… God, that man has some serious sex appeal.
Shaking myself out, I tell myself it’s just my hormones. I’m on day twelve of my cycle, so no man is safe from the daydreams.
It’s just unfortunate that Braxton plagued my fitful dreams last night. Nothing like making my life awkward for no reason.
Getting myself back on track, I set up my external cameras, two of them, around my table in the corner of my favorite coffee shop on campus. I’m working hard to both make this authentic and not disturb anyone.
Creativity will have to wait because I have some serious research to do for our trip to the city for Film Club.
Twenty minutes into my rabbit hole, I’ve come up with a few possibilities that might interest the group as a whole. A shadow crosses over me before the clink of a teacup and saucer on my table breaks my focus.
Golden curls, freckles, and a suave smile greet me as the club’s faculty sponsor sits in the seat across from me. I haven’t left much of the table uncovered, but he seems to have procured himself a corner for his own mug of coffee.
I narrow my eyes at him as he settles himself back in his seat. It’s aggravating just how good-looking this man is. And what’s worse, he knows it.
“This is quite the setup you have.”
I frown and look down at the tea he put beside me. It smells sweet and floral. A bit of milk has turned it pale. I take a tentative sip and add a packet of honey from the table.
Professor Knight grins at me. It’s all in his eyes, but it’s still a damn grin.
“It’s for my senior thesis project.”
Now, he’s smirking. Just begging for a swift slap across his mouth.
“Were you aiming for a cameo?” I take another sip of the tea and begrudgingly appreciate the fact that he chose one of my favorites from this place. Bet Martha helped him with that at the counter. I am a regular, after all.
“As much as my pretty face might brighten up your documentary, that’s not why I’m here.” He looks me over, once again taking in the mess I’ve got spread across the table between us.
“Why are you here, then?” I lean back in my chair, putting more space between us. I don’t like how many people are watching this interaction, even if my cameras garner us more attention than we would attract otherwise.
“I thought you might need help with Film Club business before I get bogged down with grading assignments. You know, Freshman classes and all of that introductory busy work.” He waves a hand in the air like I know exactly what he means.
I do, don’t get me wrong, but how would he know that? God, has he met my dad? Not exactly the most well-known professor on campus, but he does have a reputation.
“And how do you think you can help?”
Professor Knight shrugs, lounging nonchalantly. “I’ve got a few connections in the city. Let me know what you’re working on.”
I don’t know if I want this man’s help. He doesn’t seem serious, so how can I expect him to actually help me instead of wasting my time?
Reluctantly, I show him my list—three film premieres, the NY Film Festival in late September/early October, some table readings, and some talks and workshops given by industry leaders. It’s all relatively simple. The usual.
When he’s done reading through it, his clear blue eyes lift to meet my gaze. His full grin floods me with trepidation. Especially when he holds up a finger and pulls his phone out.
The phone call he makes has me rolling my eyes, and I go back to digging through the internet for other attractions to fill out the list. We can vote on them during our next meeting.
Professor Knight’s voice becomes a low murmuring to the background of my thoughts. We can probably try something adventurous this year with the group of students we have. Last year, we got a bit rambunctious. Lancaster was a wild card who made everything fun but also rode that line of breaking all the rules.
Phone lowering from his ear, Professor Knight earns my attention again as he sips his coffee and offers me a smug smirk.
“What?”
His shoulders lift, easy breezy. Teasing me.
I can feel the frown pulling at my face.
“How does a VIP experience on set of the new Dickie Hernandez movie sound?”