by Bee Daniels
"You also don't have any food in your house?" Noah asked grinning.
"Guilty as charged," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. When she began moving her cart, Noah found himself falling in step with her.
"Guess what," he said as she stopped by the frozen fruits, and when she tried to grab a bag of frozen pineapples from the top shelf, Noah grabbed it for her instead.
"You won the game," Melanie said, smiling.
"How do you know?" he asked before a grin settled on his face. "You came?"
"No." His smile dropped, and she laughed.
"My friend really loves hockey, so she went to the game. Just about thirty minutes ago, she was ranting and raving about you. 'Oh my gosh. Noah Walker is so good. Your favorite student is so great.' Stuff like that."
"Wait," Noah said, registering what she just said. "You told your friend about me, and I'm your favorite student."
It's almost as if she realized what she said because she paused in her tracks, looking mortified, and Noah laughed. He would have never thought that Melanie would talk about him to her friends, let alone think of him as her favorite student. For some reason, hearing those words made him happy.
"Don't worry, Mel. You're my favorite professor too."
"First of all, you're not my favorite student. I don't have favorites because that would be unfair of me. Second of all, don't you have some groceries to get? Don't let me get in your way."
Noah laughed. "Now you're trying to run me off."
Melanie shrugged as she tried to continue on, but Noah stopped her, wrestling her cart from her.
"Noah," she exclaimed.
"You're stuck with me now," he said.
"Will you stop playing? I need to get my groceries."
"Well, let's go. I'm not stopping you."
She sighed, glaring at him before she went and dropped frozen strawberries into the cart, and Noah grinned. She was so amusing.
***
They were in the grocery store for a full hour before Melanie finished getting everything she needed. And instead of heading back to Adam's place like he intended, he was now carrying her bags inside of her apartment. And what a nice apartment it was. After living in a dorm for two years and going to apartments rented by college students, it was weird to see an apartment look so clean and put together. There wasn't anything out of place, and instantly, Noah was able to tell that Melanie was probably a stickler for cleaning. And though Noah wouldn't call himself the average young man who had an aversion to cleaning, he made sure to wash his clothes and keep his dirty socks off the floor and had his fair share of arguments with his roommates whenever things got too out of hand, but this was something entirely different.
The glass table in the middle of the room was spotless as if it were just brought and hadn't been touched. There wasn't one dent in her cream-colored couch that looked comfy enough to sleep on. The wooden floors were spotless, and the walls had a few fancy photos here and there, but none of them were of Melanie.
"Over here," she called as she walked over to the kitchen, which for an apartment, was a very nice kitchen. She opened her stainless steel double door refrigerator as Noah placed the bags on the counter. He would have started helping her un-bag everything, but he found himself too busy inspecting her home. When they said your home represented you, they weren't lying because everything in here reminded Noah of Melanie.
The pale colors, the cleanliness of her home that bordered on OCD, and the paintings that looked like they were made by some big artist all seemed like Melanie. There was a record player in the corner, and Noah had to wonder why Melanie even owned one. She was older than him, but she wasn't that old to own a record player like his grandfather. The cream colors, along with the blue pastels, all fit her. It was very Melanie.
"Maybe it's better for you just to take a picture instead," Melanie called over to him.
Noah realized he was no longer in the kitchen, but was instead in the living room, and if it wasn't for her saying anything, he's sure that he would have made his way to her bedroom next. Noah wondered what that room looked like; probably less frilly than some of the rooms girls had with all types of pink stuff and stuffed animals, but with a boring pale color with only the basic items a bedroom needed because that's who Melanie was.
After spending these few weeks with her, and this time, actually getting to know her, not just as Professor Bryant, the woman who made things more difficult than they had to be, but as Melanie Bryant, the woman who by default relied on sarcasm and witty lines, and her level of patience, if there were any, were in the negative digits.
"I just wanted to see what your place was like," he said. "It's very you."
Melanie arched a brow, probably curious by what ‘very you’ meant, as she placed her bag of oranges next to a box of strawberries. As Noah looked at the counter, he realized that none of the food she had brought had made it in the fridge yet, and he could not help but laugh. Everything this woman did was more than needed.
"Are you separating your groceries before you put them in the fridge?" Noah asked as he walked back into the kitchen.
The plastic bag in her hand that had once been full was now neatly folded as she placed it inside of a recycling bin. When Noah went to ball up one of the bags, she slapped his hand.
"You're making this more difficult than it has to be," Noah said. "It'll take half the time just to ball them up."
"But then it'll take up too much space, and they only come to pick up the recycling every two weeks. Do you know how frustrating it is to have your trash bin full, but you can't place it in the garbage can because they won't come to pick it up for another week?" Melanie shook her head as she took the bag and folded it herself.
"If you want to be helpful, you can take those groceries out of the bags over there and just set them down. I like my food to be put up a certain way."
Noah chuckled as he went to go do as she asked. "You're the only person I know who does stuff like this."
"I'm the only person you know who does things right. I feel sorry for you, Noah. You should really meet better people."
Noah snorted. In record time, he took the groceries out of the bag, while Melanie took each of the items he unbagged and placed them in a pile according to how they would go in the refrigerator. At first, she wouldn't let him touch anything, but when he annoyed her enough, she eventually let him put up the boxed foods inside of her cabinets. And not to his surprise, everything inside of the cabinets were neatly placed and organized.
Once they finished everything, Noah leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as Melanie wiped down whatever imaginary dust that had fallen while she put everything up.
"Are you doing something today?" she asked as she dropped the sponge next to the sink.
Noah quirked a brow. "Is that your subtle way of telling me to leave?"
"No, because if I wanted you to leave, I would tell you exactly that," she said as she turned around to face him, folding her arms on top of each other. "The reason I asked you if because I wanted to thank you for helping me take everything up. I would've had to make three trips by myself if you weren't here, and if you don't realize by now, I live on the sixth floor."
"Yeah, it sucks that the elevator isn't working right now," Noah said as he yanked his shirt away from his body as it clung to the sweat on his skin. Noah hadn't been planning on having a workout today, but it just happened that way. The stairs were a killer.
"So, how do you want to repay me?" Noah grinned. "With an A?"
"You think I'm going to give you an A because you carried some groceries up the stairs? You must not know me by now. I only give A's to those deserving."
"So, what do I deserve for this?"
Melanie shrugged. "Dinner?"
Noah blinked before laughing. "That's what I get for slaving up and down the stairs for you."
And she gave him a look that reminded him of the saying, ‘boy,
bye.’
"It's either dinner or five dollars," she said. "Take your pick."
And just as she finished those words, Noah's stomach growled loudly. There was a pause of silence before Melanie burst into laughter.
"So, you're going to laugh at my pain?" Noah asked, ignoring the blush in his cheeks at something that embarrassing happening. Luckily, it wasn't in front of a girl he liked.
"Dinner it is, then," Melanie said as she began to pull a few things out.
"Do you even know how to cook?" Noah asked curiously. Melanie didn't strike him as the type of person who would spend her time in the kitchen. She struck him as the type of person who would instead spend her money buying food, not cooking it. She probably had one of those food delivery services.
Melanie tossed a peeved stare at him. "I know how to cook. Do you know how to?"
"I dabble in it a bit myself," he said with a nonchalant shrug.
"What? In the art of ramen noodles?"
Noah bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.
"Okay, let's see here," Noah said as he looked at the foods Melanie had taken out. Chicken, onions, potatoes, spinach, and some seasons. "Let's make this a battle and see who cooks the best."
"Is everything a competition with you?" Melanie asked as she turned to face him, placing one hand on her hip, amusement clear in her gaze. "Besides, I don't need you wasting my food when you don't know how to cook."
"Let's make this a bet. If I can cook better than you, then you have to take me out to eat again."
"You're trying to rob your elders of money?"
"No, just my professors."
A reluctant smile broke out on her face as she shook her head, and Noah couldn't help but smile in response. It was an involuntary response that happened every time he witnessed her smile.
"So, what do I get in return if I cook better than you?" Melanie asked.
"If you win, I take you out to eat."
"See that's the difference between adults and child—"
"Young adults, but most women tell me I'm a man," Noah said with a wink.
Melanie rolled her eyes. Clearly, she did not think the same. "Most girls," she corrected. "And I can pay for my own food. You have to give me a better bet than that if you want me to waste my food on you."
"During your next exam, I'll help you out," Noah said. After the last time, Melanie's teacher assistant had become too busy with her family life to work for Melanie anymore.
Melanie stared at him for a second, her brown eyes searching his own before she lifted her hand. "Deal," she said, and he grabbed her hand, shaking it.
For the next forty minutes, they stood inside of her hot kitchen cooking with the ingredients they had, and halfway through, Noah realized he had been completely mistaken about Melanie. Though she looked like someone who would be too busy to cook, she definitely knew how too.
And when both of their plates sat on the table together, just from the looks of it, there was a clear winner.
Melanie looked at him triumphantly, her brown eyes sparkling with delight, and wordlessly, Noah took a bite of the smothered chicken with homemade mashed potatoes and tasted heaven. Flavors burst in his mouth— pepper, curry, creamy, cheesy goodness. Noah took another bite, his tongue and stomach satisfied with the food in front of him.
"I have classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Make sure you aren't late," she told him with a grin.
"You haven't even tasted my stuff yet. You can't always judge a book by its cover."
Melanie was not impressed by his idiom, but she picked up her fork anyway. Noah watched as she put the chicken that looked slightly overcooked in her mouth. Immediately, a frown settled on her face.
"It's not that bad," Noah said indignantly.
"Oh, yes it is," Melanie said after swallowing the food like she was swallowing a huge pill. "If Gordon Ramsay was here, he would tear you a new one for this bland chicken."
"Whatever," Noah said as he continued to dig into the plate she made for him. She grabbed her own plate with her food on it, and they sat at the dining room table as the TV played in the background.
By the time Noah finished his food, he was stuffed silly, and already, he wanted to sleep. He slumped in his chair, lifting his shirt as he rubbed his bloated stomach, his eyes fluttering shut. Noah didn't know how long he dozed off until he felt something drop on his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw white. He took the cloth off his face and saw Melanie walking to the kitchen with two plates in her hand, including his.
"This isn't a bed and breakfast," she said as she started washing the dishes. It felt like it, and right now, that couch looked beautiful, and when Noah thought about Melanie's bed and how soft it probably was, he definitely wanted to go back there and lay his head down and sleep. He was tired. And he doubted it was just because of the flight of stairs he had taken twice, and it had all the more to do with the game and the partying.
He yawned loudly, wishing that he could get up and help her. After all, she was the one who cooked the better food. But his eyes were heavy, and his mind was foggy. When Noah stood stretching his weak limbs, he thought he was going to head to the kitchen, but, instead, he mindlessly walked over to the couch and plopped down.
"Hey, go home and sleep," she called, but Noah waved her off.
"I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes," he said as he tucked a pillow behind his head. He was so fucking tired. He just needed to close his eyes for one minute, and he would be back up and running again— just one minute or two.
***
When Noah opened his eyes again, the sky was no longer tinted a light blue, but instead, it was dark with only the moon and the city lights to brighten it. The TV was on mute, and a blanket was covering him. He looked at his phone, the culprit that had woken him up from his sleep, and answered it without looking at who called.
"Hello," he said hoarsely.
"Where the hell are you, man? I thought you were going to pick up some food," Adam said over the phone, and then Noah remembered what his first intentions were when he went to the grocery store, but instead, he had spent the whole day with Melanie. When he sat up to look for her, he saw her on the other couch. A book hung limply from her hand, and her head laid against the headrest as she softly snored.
"I'll be over there soon," Noah said before hanging up. He stood from the couch and thought to himself that he had been right about her couch being a good place to sleep. He grabbed the blanket and walked over to Melanie before gently removing the book from her hand and laying the blanket on top of her.
When he pulled back, he found himself staring at her sleeping face, noticing the mole hidden under her ear and the apples of her cheek. And as he stood in her apartment watching her sleep, Noah couldn't help but wonder to himself how they had even gotten to this point. Just a few weeks ago, he was positive that Melanie hated him. Hell, just a few weeks ago, he would have never thought of her as Melanie, at least not in a serious way. She was just Professor Bryant, the professor who was making his life hell. But now, she was Melanie, his friend. Could he call her his friend? Did students have professors that were friends? And not in the way where you came to ask them for advice about your career, but a serious friend. Did Melanie even think of him the same?
Noah tucked the covers around Melanie more and resisted the urge to pick her up and take her to her room. He had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate that, and that he would be pushing a boundary that he shouldn't be.
Before he left out, Noah shot her a text telling her thanks for the food and that he'll see her on Monday.
CHAPTER
16
NOAH
E
VERYONE IN THE INTRO TO PSYCHOLOGY CLASS SAT UP, PREPARING THEMSELVES FOR THEIR GRADES. Slowly, Melanie walked around, passing exams back to each student. Noah’s fingers drummed across the table as he waited for her to make it to him. He had worked hard and studied for the past few weeks, even outsi
de of his study sessions with Melanie, to make sure he passed this exam. He needed to because if not, he would fail. Noah anxiously waited with a knot in the pit of his stomach.
When Melanie finally made it to his row, she passed Julie her exam first, and of course, there was an A scribbled on the front. Melanie glanced at him before she grabbed his paper, and that made him even more nervous. Why did she look at him like that? Did he fail? Was she feeling sympathy for him because he failed? That couldn’t have been a you passed look.
When the blue pamphlet made it in his hand, Noah was hesitant to look at it as he stared at Melanie instead. She quirked a brow at him, probably wondering why he was looking at her instead of his grade, but for the first time in his life, he was scared to. Though he and Melanie were much closer than they had been before, he knew that she wouldn’t just give him the grade he wanted because of that. He would have to earn his grade.
She gestured for him to look at his paper before she went to the next row. Noah stared at the spot where she last stood before he swallowed his fear and looked at his paper. On it was a B. He got a fucking B. Relief washed over him as he breathed deeply.
“You got a B, Noah. That’s really good,” Julie said. He flashed her a smile as he opened his exam, and to his surprise, there was a message in it.
How could you forget this when it was the last thing I taught you? :(
There was a frown face next to it, and Noah couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Julie asked curiously. Noah didn’t bother to answer her question as he looked behind his row to see Melanie, who winked at him. Noah grinned brightly. He fucking passed. All of the tutoring he had done paid off. When Coach Benson found out about this, he would celebrate. There would be no sitting on the bench for him, and he would own this year.
“How were you able to get such a high grade?” Julie asked curiously. And Noah wasn’t surprised that Julie was curious. Just a few weeks ago, he was getting D’s and F’s on everything. And now there was a B on his exam. Even Noah was surprised with himself.