It had been a long, frustrating morning. Estelle was still fuming over the week of detention Celeste had assigned her. She sat at one of the outdoor tables at the campus café, stirring her coffee absentmindedly as she vented to Mia, who sat across from her, looking far too entertained by the situation.
“Can you believe she gave me a week of detention?” Estelle groaned, setting her cup down hard. “A whole week, Mia! She’s such a—ugh, such a bitch!”
Mia raised an amused eyebrow, clearly enjoying her friend’s rant. “I mean, you did break into the campus pool after hours. Not exactly a minor offense.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like we hurt anyone!” Estelle shot back, leaning in closer. “It was just a stupid, harmless idea, and now I’m stuck in her office every day like some delinquent. And the way she acts—so calm, like nothing ever happened between us, like I’m just another student. It’s infuriating! She’s such a bitch!”
Mia snorted, nearly spilling her coffee. “I don’t know. I kind of think you’re loving it. I mean, come on, the great Professor Thorne giving you undivided attention every afternoon? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Estelle groaned louder, throwing her head back in exasperation. “I’m not loving it! She’s impossible! She’s all cool and collected, and I’m stuck pretending like I’m not affected by any of it. It’s driving me insane! She’s just… such a bitch!”
Mia laughed, but then her expression changed. Her eyes flicked over Estelle’s shoulder, and she froze, her face going pale.
“Uhmm, Estelle…” Mia’s voice was barely above a whisper, her grin fading quickly. “I think she heard.”
Estelle’s stomach dropped. She blinked, confused, and turned to Mia. “What? Who heard?”
Mia subtly pointed behind Estelle, her mouth forming a silent “oh no.”
Estelle’s heart pounded as she slowly turned around, her breath catching in her throat. Standing just a few feet away, holding a to-go cup in one hand, was Professor Celeste Thorne.
Her arms were crossed, her posture rigid, and her icy blue eyes were locked on Estelle with a look that could freeze fire.
Estelle’s mouth fell open, words failing her. She hadn’t seen or heard Celeste approach, and now she stood there, clearly having overheard the entire conversation.
“P-Professor Thorne,” Estelle stammered, her face burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you were there.”
Celeste’s expression was unreadable, but the tension radiating off her was palpable. “Clearly,” she said, her voice cool and measured, though the edge in it made Estelle wince.
Mia, sensing the danger, quickly grabbed her bag and stood up, offering a half-hearted smile. “Well, uh… I think I’ll just… go find something to do. Somewhere else.”
Mia slipped away quickly, leaving Estelle to face Celeste alone. The silence between them felt heavy, as if the entire café had gone still, waiting for the inevitable storm.
Estelle swallowed hard, standing up from the table. “Professor, I—”
Celeste cut her off with a sharp look, her voice calm but laced with a quiet fury. “Save your excuses, Miss Brooks. You’ve made your feelings about me quite clear.”
Estelle’s chest tightened with guilt. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just… venting. I didn’t think you’d—”
“Call me a ‘bitch’?” Celeste finished for her, raising an eyebrow. “Repeatedly.”
Estelle flinched, her face burning even hotter. “I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated with everything. The detention, the… situation.”
Celeste’s gaze softened for just a moment, a flicker of something like hurt passing through her eyes before she quickly masked it. “It seems you’ve made a habit of venting your frustrations in a less than constructive manner, Miss Brooks.”
Estelle bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to—”
“Enough,” Celeste said, her tone clipped. “I don’t need an apology. What I need is for you to stop letting your emotions control you.”
Estelle blinked, feeling a surge of frustration rise again, despite her guilt. “But you—you’re the one who makes everything so… impossible! You act like nothing affects you, like none of this is personal when it’s so obvious that it is! You want me to stop letting my emotions control me? Fine. But stop pretending you’re not affected by all of this too.”
Celeste’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, the mask she wore so tightly slipped, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath the surface. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar icy composure.
“You think this isn’t personal?” Celeste’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the intensity in her words made Estelle’s pulse quicken. “You think I don’t feel the weight of everything that’s happened between us?”
Estelle’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected Celeste to admit that, hadn’t expected her to come so close to acknowledging the tension that had been simmering between them for weeks. But here it was, laid bare in the middle of a crowded café.
“Then why do you act like it doesn’t matter?” Estelle whispered, her voice trembling. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
Celeste took a slow, deliberate step forward, her eyes locked on Estelle’s, and for the first time, there was no distance between them. No walls. No pretense.
“I push you away,” Celeste said softly, “because I can’t afford to lose control.”
The words hung in the air, thick with meaning, and Estelle’s heart raced in her chest. There it was—the truth she had been waiting for, the admission that Celeste had fought so hard to bury.
“I don’t want control,” Estelle whispered, taking a step closer. “Not anymore.”
Celeste’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Estelle thought she might say something more—something that would change everything between them. But instead, Celeste straightened, the cool mask slipping back into place.
“This conversation is over,” Celeste said quietly, her voice controlled once again. “I expect to see you in my office for detention this afternoon. Don’t be late.”
Without waiting for a response, Celeste turned and walked away, leaving Estelle standing there, breathless and shaken by what had just transpired.
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