"So, how are things going with Giray? Any progress?"
Guess she chose to ignore me.
"We text from time to time. We couldn't meet last weekend because he was filling in for a friend at work. We rescheduled for tomorrow evening. Hopefully nothing goes wrong this time."
"Have you decided what you're going to wear? Where are you two going? I think you should wear your white dress. And I can do your hair if you want."
They both looked at me with teasing grins, and I raised my eyebrows slightly.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Anyone watching would think it's your first date, not mine, Duru."
"This is basically our collective first date. I prayed enough to earn a gold membership card from heaven, and Feyza… well, she was just being Feyza. Anyway, since we finally made it happen, everything has to be perfect."
Feyza grinned and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Relax, they're not coming to ask for your hand in marriage."
"I don't care! After the date you're coming straight to me. If you don't tell me everything in detail, I'll harass your phone until morning."
Aylin laughed and nodded.
As we got up to head to class, I glanced around. Thankfully, the source of my unnecessary anxiety had vanished along with his friends.
As we walked toward the classroom, I had already pushed the annoying incident from lunch—and the person responsible for it—out of my mind. After all, I was about to attend the only class taught by a teacher I genuinely liked. Even though I hated drawing, watching him teach in front of the board was an absolute delight.
Did the fact that, unlike the others, he was young, handsome, and had an undeniably attractive vibe play a role in that? Of course not! It was purely my deep, burning love of education.
When we entered the classroom and took our seats, the professor walked in right after us and closed the door. He handed out the practice sheets.
As he explained what we needed to do, I watched him with full, unwavering attention. The sharp line of his jaw, the way he held the pen… Strictly academic, of course. Yes. Entirely academic.
While his back was turned, Aylin elbowed me back to reality. "Stop grinning like a creep and checking him out from behind."
I gave her an innocent smile. "But look at him, he's insanely sexy, isn't he? It would be rude not to look. Actually, forget it; you don't look. I'll look enough for both of us."
The look on her face said she had officially given up. "You're hopeless."
I spaced out for a moment and missed part of the explanation. Actually, I hadn't listened to most of it, but who cared! After all, we should give our passionate teacher the chance to do what he loves, shouldn't we! I raised my hand.
"Professor! Could you take a look for a second?"
When he walked over to me, I pointed at the part I didn't understand. "I couldn't quite understand this part. I think my calculation is coming out wrong."
He smiled and took my paper. "Let's see where you made a mistake, dear Duru."
Oh, the way he said "dear Duru", he was just the sweetest, wasn't he.
When the rising chatter signaled the end of class, I lifted my head from the paper and let out a sigh.
"This is completely unfair. Why does this class end in the blink of an eye while we count every painful minute in that yellow cursed man's class?"
Aylin looked at me with a smirk. "Would you like to ask him that in his class tomorrow morning?"
"You really know how to kill a mood. I think I'll go ahead and have that tonsil surgery I've been postponing tomorrow."
"There's nothing wrong with your tonsils, Duru!"
"Good point. How many bottles of ice-cold water do you think I need to drink in one night to become surgery-worthy?"
When we entered the building, Aylin headed for the elevator while I walked toward the stairs. Aylin stared at me, clearly confused by my behavior.
"Where are you going?"
"Sorry, but after the elevator disaster I lived through, I'm not getting into that thing for a while. Like…" I pretended to think. "Until I move out!"
Laughing at my words, she grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the elevator anyway. In response to my grumbling complaints, she said, "If anything goes wrong, I'll give you my jacket too, don't worry."
I sighed in frustration. "I hate my luck! How did I end up running into that guy!?"
The moment I stepped inside, I dropped my things on the coat rack and put on my "relaxing" playlist on the computer. Then I let myself collapse onto the couch. Nothing beat the feeling of sinking into something soft!
My daily mental interrogation session could begin now, complete with the ceiling view.
After what happened at lunch, my dream of never seeing that guy again had officially sunk. Still, I absolutely wasn't planning on going to that party. No matter how much the girls insisted—or how ridiculously handsome he was—I had no desire to be in the same place as him.
There was something about this guy that just didn't sit right with me. He looked a little too… dangerous to be just handsome.
As I went into my bedroom to change and inspected myself in the full-length mirror, I kept thinking. There was no way he was interested in me. Because someone like him wouldn't find someone like me attractive. I wasn't ugly, of course, but unlike the girls around him—the ones who looked like they were born to be models—I didn't exactly possess "flawless beauty."
I had a 'bit' of a belly; my boobs were neither big nor small—just average. I had wide hips and thick legs. I wasn't unkempt or anything, but I didn't walk around with flawless hair and full glam like I was headed to a wedding at all times.
I was just an ordinary girl, nothing particularly eye-catching.
I was average. And he, in every sense, fell into the "extraordinary" category.
So, what did he want from me then?