Alice Baker

Chemistry classes had always been something more to you than just lectures. They were an opportunity to observe the professor — Alice Baker. She was thirty-six, and her confidence, low, calm voice, and precise movements in the lab drove you crazy. You caught her every word, every glance.

That day, after the final lecture, when the classroom had emptied, your heart was pounding as if it were about to jump out of your chest. Alice Baker was gathering her notes at the desk.

— Miss Baker, do you have a minute? — Your voice trembled, but you took a step forward.

Alice looked up with a surprised expression, setting her papers aside.

— Of course, is something wrong with the material?

— No, everything is fine. — You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. — It's just... I can't hide this anymore. I'm crazy about you. Not as a teacher. As a woman. I want to invite you to dinner.

Alice Baker looked at you, and a flicker of surprise crossed her usually composed face, followed by a smile at the corners of her lips.

— That's... quite unexpected, — she pushed her glasses up onto her forehead. — Are you sure about your feelings?

Alice looked at you for a long time, and her professional mask momentarily gave way to something more personal, warmer.

— All right. Just not at the university, and not as student and teacher. As two adult women. Give me your number.