Chapter 93 True Feelings
"I once secretly promised myself I'd marry Louis. Any girl who got close to him, I'd find a way to push her away. And that's exactly what I did. I knew he had someone in his heart, and I thought if I found out who she was, I'd teach her a lesson!" Mindy was crying so hard she could barely breathe, and it made me really sad.
Loving someone who doesn't love you back is a pain only those who've been through it can understand.
"So why didn't you teach me a lesson?" I teased Mindy.
Mindy knew I was joking and threw a stuffed animal at me. She sniffled and said, "You're so nice, and it's not your fault he likes you. How could I hurt you? I have a conscience too."
Her words warmed my gloomy mood.
Turns out, in the upper-class world I never knew, besides the aloofness and arrogance, there's also genuine affection.
'Mindy, you're great too, good enough for Louis. So, don't give up!' I thought.
I suggested, "Mindy, if you like him, fight for it. Trust me, Louis will feel your love, and you'll get what you want."
Mindy replied, "I don't believe it. You don't know how crazy he was today, so determined. With such deep love for you, how could he ever like someone else? I'm desperate."
I threw the stuffed animal back at her, hitting her right in the face. "I'm just his unrequited love from youth, but you are his future. Go for it, I believe in you."
Mindy finally cried herself to sleep, but I couldn't sleep. I stared at the stars outside the window, lost in thought.
The moonlight was beautiful. I took a photo of the view and posted it on Facebook.
In less than a minute, my phone dinged with a new message.
It was from Brad.
Brad: [Still awake?]
Me: [Yeah, can't sleep.]
Brad: [What's going on? Feeling down?]
Me: [I made things clear with Louis. From now on, we'll just be classmates.]
Brad: [Why are you unhappy? Are you reluctant or regretful?]
Me: [Neither, I just feel uncomfortable. Louis cried when I left. He's liked me for so many years, but I can't like him back. I feel a bit guilty.]
Brad: [He couldn't handle his family issues himself. You don't need to feel guilty. If you're going to break it off, do it cleanly. Otherwise, he'll just spiral and feel worse.]
Me: [Brad, everyone else hopes I end up with him, but you're the opposite. Are you just enjoying the drama?]
Brad didn't respond to that but instead asked, [Have you thought about what kind of boyfriend you want?]
Me: [Doesn't need to be super hot, just easy on the eyes. Someone who treats me like a queen, spoils me, and stays the same even after kids. Five or six years older would be perfect. That's it.]
Brad: [Are you sure you're not describing me?]
Me: [I see you as a brother! How could you become my boyfriend?]
Brad: [Anything is possible. You have to be brave and pursue what you want, turning the impossible into possible.]
Me: [You're teasing me again. I'm not talking to you.]
I turned off my phone and closed my eyes to sleep, but my face quietly turned red and hot.
Brad was so bad, always teasing me.
It started raining early in the morning, and the sound of the rain woke me up.
The room smelled like alcohol, and Mindy was sleeping deeply. I had to get up and close the window.
The rain lasted three days, making it cold.
With each autumn rain, the chill deepened. I bundled up in a thick coat and stuck to my routine: apartment, classroom, cafeteria.
Mindy hadn't come back since the second night after the incident, leaving me alone and feeling lonely.
Out of boredom, I called friends, but mostly, I bugged Brad.
On the fourth morning, I had class. As soon as I walked in, I heard my classmates buzzing about something.
"What's up? Did the scholarship double?" I found a seat near the front, took out my books, and placed a new drawing I had stayed up late to finish on the desk, waiting for the teacher's review.
"Something way better than a doubled scholarship."
"I heard Professor Larry Evans is coming to teach at National Capital University. You know him, right? The prodigy who became a master of oil painting."
Professor Larry Evans, my mentor at Northern Institute of the Arts? He was also Brad's research advisor. I made a name for myself in oil painting thanks to his guidance.
Was Larry really coming to teach here? Brad didn't mention it. This was fantastic news.
The gloomy morning brightened up with this good news.
I was just thinking about calling Professor Evans to ask when he'd be here when the bell rang.
Reluctantly, I put down my phone, but then I saw him walk in, leaving me stunned.
The very Professor Evans my classmates were talking about, impeccably dressed in a suit, carrying teaching materials.
Not a word of this had reached me, and now he was here. Did he drop from the sky?
Professor Evans said, "That young lady, why are you daydreaming so early? In my class, being pretty doesn't excuse breaking the rules."
My classmates laughed and shifted their attention from him to me.
'Is being pretty a crime?' I thought.
I bit my lip, not daring to retort.
Professor Evans adjusted his glasses, his sharp eyes hiding a mix of joy and mischief at our reunion. "What's the matter? Too happy to think straight?"
The dozens of students in the class looked at me in confusion, probably not expecting someone as quiet as me to stand out on his first day.
I looked at him for a moment, rubbed my face with my hands, and when I put them down, he was already standing by my desk.
Luckily, I wasn't wearing makeup, or my face would be a mess.
I turned my head to look outside, then back at him, unable to suppress my excitement. The corners of my mouth lifted uncontrollably. "Professor Evans, long time no see."
He replied, "Jane, long time no see. I read your thesis. It's good, but the middle part on medieval oil paintings needs more detail. Add examples and explain more."
"Yes, I'll complete it as soon as possible," I said.
Our conversation felt like we were back at Northern Institute of the Arts, in his office, where he would give me private lessons.
Seeing me chat so comfortably with him, my classmates whispered among themselves.
Professor Evans picked up my new drawing and nodded in approval. "Not bad, you've really nailed it."
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