Page 11 of Bless My Heart

“Yeah, I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I just kind of woke up feeling off.”

“Well, don’t push yourself too hard, Hazel. You don’t want to wear yourself out this early in the semester. Take the afternoon off if you need it.”

I nod my head, and he pats me on the shoulder before we both turn to leave in opposite directions.

I gather my things for class and head to the lecture hall. After getting set up, I feel clammy again. I sit down and put my head in my hands, needing a minute to collect myself. I don’t look up as the students file in. In fact, I don’t move until the alarm on my phone alerts me that class is starting.

I slowly raise my head, and my eyes fall immediately on Wes. He’s looking right at me with his brows furrowed in confusion. I try to smile and let him and the rest of the class know that I’m ok, but I’m not sure my mouth moves.

I make my way to the podium, and a wave of nausea rolls over me. Taking a deep breath and wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I start the lecture. I only make it to the second slide of my PowerPoint before giving up.

“I’m sorry, guys. I’m not feeling great today. I need to end class early. I’ll post any notes in the student portal. Sorry again.”

Most of the students jump up immediately and exit the classroom. I gather my things, but I can’t hold it anymore. I know I’m going to vomit.

I leave everything where it is and run out of the classroom, not noticing the faces I pass. Everything is a blur right now. Luckily, the bathroom is just down the hall, and I make it into a stall with enough time to grab my hair before my stomach lurches.

After I think I’ve gotten everything out, I wash my hands and run some cold water on my face. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I really don’t look great. I should probably go home and rest.

I dry my hands and face and open the bathroom door. Wes’s large frame is standing right in the doorway, causing me to jump.

“Jesus, Wes. What are you doing?” I ask, trying to calm my heart rate.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok. You didn’t look too hot in there.” I notice he’s holding my bag, which he must have packed with my laptop, notebook, and cell phone. He sees me looking at it and hands it to me. “Just trying to be helpful,” he says with a shrug. I take the bag from him, and our fingers barely graze, but it sends a spark right down my spine.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I must have come down with something. I’m just going to go home and try to sleep it off.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, no, thank you. I think that would be inappropriate,” I finally bring my eyes to his. I want nothing more than for him to pull me into his arms and hold me, but I can’t tell him that.

Wes nods his head and moves out of the way so I can leave. “The offer always stands, though, Dr. Greenwood. I’m here if you need anything.” His words instantly comfort me. He sounds so genuine. I’ve never known of a twenty-two-year-old to be so … thoughtful.

He takes off down the hallway, and I watch him walk away with such confidence. He seems completely comfortable with who he is. I wonder what that feels like. I’m fully aware of my own insecurities and anxiety, and I know my best friends have their moments as well.

But Wes? Wes acts like he’s got it all figured out.

I get in my car and head to my apartment. I change into fresh pajamas and climb back into bed. I grab my phone to text my best friends and tell them I’m sick. They both offer to bring me soup if I need it. I start to respond, but I fall asleep before hitting send.

My subconscious floats me into Wes’s arms, and I fall deeper and deeper into sleep.

CHAPTER SIX

WES

I might be overstepping my boundaries. Yeah, I probably am, but it’s too late now. I’m already a few feet from Hazel’s office. She didn’t look good on Monday, so I’m glad she went home to rest. She looked like she needed it.

Hazel was out on Wednesday. Her Teacher’s Assistant taught the class, and she posted extra notes on the student portal. She didn’t mention how she was feeling. Not that she has to, but I don’t know; it might have been nice. I can’t be the only student in the class that cares about their professor’s well-being. I might care more than others, but that’s neither here nor there.

So, here I am, early to school on Friday morning to see if Dr. Hazel Greenwood has graced us with her presence. It’s barely nine in the morning, so hardly any students roam the halls by the professors’ offices. I’m pretty sure no one has office hours this early.

I finally turn the corner and see that Hazel’s office door is open, and the light is on. I can’t stop the smile from hitting my lips.

I walk up to the doorframe, ready to knock but take a step back when I see a person who is definitely not Hazel standing behind the desk. This woman is taller than Hazel by a good few inches. Her hair is a shade darker and a few inches longer than Hazel’s, and there isn’t a trace of purple to be found anywhere on this woman’s head.

The woman hasn’t noticed me yet, so I try to figure out who she is. Then it hits me. I remember where I’ve seen her before. She was at the bar the night that I met Hazel. She was one of Hazel’s friends … Chelsea, Carrie … Damn, why can’t I remember her name?

I clear my throat, and the woman looks up from Hazel’s desk. I give her my best smile.