I nodded, a grin spreading across my face. “And I’m wishing you a semester of peace, minimal group projects, and A’s across the board.”
We hugged briefly, a moment of warmth before parting ways.
Just as I reached for the door handle, a familiar, teasing voice pierced through the air behind me.
“Daaang, Ms. Hollywood… you done got a lil’thickover the break.”
I turned, already smirking.
Deondre stood there, leaning casually against the wall, exuding a swagger that was both charming and infuriating.
“Deondre,” I sighed, giving him a thorough once-over. "It's nice to see youhaven’tchanged.”
Deondre grinned, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slightly tight jeans. “Actually, I have... a little. I got a girlfriend now," he revealed, taking me by surprise.
I raised one eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “A girlfriend? Is that so?”
“Yup. Going two weeks strong. But she ain’t got nothing on you, though,” he added quickly, a grin still plastered on his face, “but she’s a good girl.”
I shot him the classic professor look. It combined concern and authority; the kind that conveyed I cared while firmly refusing to entertain nonsense.
“Well, if she’s a good girl, then your job is to protect that. Stay faithful, keep her smiling, andpleasestop flirting with your professors… especially the ones who got men bigger than you."
Deondre laughed lightly as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I hear you, Ms. Hollywood. You know it’s all love with you, though.”
I softened my expression, hoping to reach the core of him. “Seriously, Deondre, you have potential; don’t waste it trying to be slick. Be the kind of man she can brag about to her friends.”
He nodded, the sincerity in his eyes making me believe he heard me.
"Well, I have to get going. It was nice seeing you. Take care, Deondre, and please stay out of trouble."
"Yes, ma'am."
Deondre walked off and called over his shoulder, “And you stay beautiful!”
I paused for a moment, exhaling the tension of the interaction, before stepping into my classroom with my shoulders back and head high.
New semester… new peace… and the kind of love that didn’t need proving; just nurturing.
***
I should’ve known something was off when the cafeteria’s meatloaf smell turned my stomach before I even saw it. I clutched my belly as I walked past the line, trying to smile at the lunch lady, Ms. Penny, who’d been serving with love for over two decades and always greeted everyone with a warm smile and an extra scoop.
“You alright, baby?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“Yes… just feeling a little queasy,” I waved it off and kept walking.
I figured it was just the adjustment of being back after a long break, and my stomach was staging a full-on rebellion against the cafeteria’s meatloaf.
Cute.
But as the day progressed, things took a turn for the worse. I stood before the class, nerves dancing in my stomach, trying to introduce myself. Just as I began to share my excitement about the new semester, a wave of nausea crashed over me. My mouth watered in a truly alarming way; a hot, acidic warning shot that screamed, “Run or suffer.”
“I’ll be right back,” I blurted out, tossing the whiteboard marker down like it was a hot potato, sprinted toward the staff bathroom, heart racing.
I barely made it through the door before I was hugging the toilet. It was bad. My eyes watered, my throat burned like I’d swallowed fire, and my stomach flipped and twisted in a full Simone Biles–level routine. When I finally came up for air, I wiped my tear-streaked face, flushed the toilet, and braced myself to inspect the damage in the mirror.
“Girl… what the hell?” I murmured to my reflection, half-expecting the universe to give me a sign.
