My head was spinning. What just happened? I could still feel her hands on my skin, the citric perfume inebriating my senses; the weight of her head on my face; her husky voice on my ear. Everything was so vividly intense. My heart was still beating as if she was inches away from me, as if I could still reach to her and touch her tan skin. I couldn't pay attention to what my friends were asking or for how long I had my eyes focused on her, sitting at a table not so far from mine. She was so close, but she felt so distant. It was the first time I could see her socializing outside of college, without the professor charade. Her expressions were soft and relaxed. Maybe it was the real her in front of me, talking with a large group of young New Yorkers, laughing at people's jokes, touching some girl's arm, drinking beer without worries.

Deep inside I knew it was my fault that our interaction ended so abruptly. Seeing her, however, so relaxed as if what had happened between us was already part of her distant past upset me. I was held in time, still standing at the bar with a cup of beer, nearly yelling my frustration while experiencing her closeness. My brain didn't process the time passing or how I got back to my friend's table. The time paused, the weird feeling growing in my stomach when I heard my name on my friend's lips.

"Olivia . . . OLIvia . . . . OLIVIA!"

Sandy shouted, shaking my arm in the process. I moved my eyes in her direction, but I was still daydreaming, out of my senses.

"Olivia, I am starting to get really worried. You are quiet since you come back from the bar. Did something happen?"

I couldn't deny it. My confusion was so obvious, and I didn't have the energy, either, to explain or deny anything. I smiled at Sandy, touching her hand softly, while taking a slow deep breath. She and Julio patiently waited for my time. Their intense eyes were on me, trying to get any unspoken tips for the mysterious interaction that had happened.

"I am so tired." I took a sip of my, now warm, beer. "I have had so much going on in my life recently. I feel like I am in the middle of a hurricane, with zero protection. Everything is being destroyed or really misplaced."

Sandy and Julia shared a confused look, not certain if they understood what I was referring to.

"What happened between you and your professor?" Julio couldn't hold his curiosity. Sandy kicked his leg under the table, but I knew she was also thinking about it. The only difference was that she didn't have the courage to ask.

" I don't even know, honestly. I am here, drinking this beer, trying to make sense of the things she said to me... or didn't say . . . or implied? Fuck" Another sip on my warm beer. " I need a cold beer".

I got up without facing my friends. Being lost in my own thoughts was already overwhelming. I couldn't explain to them what I hadn't even comprehended. Back to the bar, now ten times busier than before, I fight to get the bartender's attention. Everyone was so wasted, dropping alcohol on each other's clothes, laughing meaninglessly, hitting on others with zero sense of private space. 'Maybe it is time to call off this nightmare', I thought while looking at the time on my phone.

"Y-O-U A-R-E RIDICULOUS Bianca!"

A woman yelled behind me, bumping her side body into my back. In a matter of seconds, I recovered my balance and avoided falling on that dirty club floor. The anger inside me was just waiting for a small spark to be set free, and I almost lost it if it was not for her eyes on me. My stupid, bitch, gorgeous professor, was holding her friend with both her hands, trying to keep the woman on her feet, while staring at me, whispering "sorry" on her red, thick, curvy lips.

"Whatever" I said, turning to the bar and trying once more to catch the bartender's attention. The girl behind me, though, was set on making my night even harder. She burst out into such a boisterous laugh, that my stomach flipped out of irritation.

"Amanda. You need to calm down, or I am leaving you behind". My professor's tone was serious, but I knew she was not going to do that, and so did Amanda.

"That you are so stiff is not a surprise to me, but tonight you are even worse. What happened? I know . ." Now Amanda's laugh was sarcastic. "Did you fight again with your girlfriend? C'mon, you guys are pissing me off with this rollercoaster".

"SHUT UP"

I heard my professor yelling at her friend, and probably pushing the girl that fell all over me. I could smell the dry beer on my skin, with the stick liquid sliding down my arm.

"What the fuck." My tone was quiet, as if I was complaining more with myself than anything exterior. Frustration was how I could define my emotions, tired of what my night had become.

"Oh, Olivia. I am so sorry. Let me help you." She overreacted, jumping to my side, cleaning -or trying to - my arm with a paper napkin. "My friend is so out of her mind. My apologies on her behalf."

There we were again, our separate worlds crashed into each other's universe. I slowly raised my eyes from her hand, holding my arm, to her face, passing through her prominent collarbone, skinny and sexy long neck, and pout-concentrated lips. My eyes finally laid on her amber eyes. I was sure she could hear my heart running in my chest. I tried to control it, but when her own eyes met mine, followed by a shy smirky smile, I melted, giving up on holding my poor heart.

"Are you okay . . ." She took a deep breath. "Miss Olivia?".

In my head, my voice was centered, with a perfect level of balance and sobriety. However, when the words "I will be fine. Thank you, professor" left my lips, it sounded so low, grave, that she shook her body in response. I wasn't sure if she got uncomfortable with how my voice sounded, or because I reminded her that I was her student.

"Right." She answered, moving away from me, but still holding my arm.

"BIANCA" Her friend yelled, hysterically, while hugging her from behind. "Look at who I am calling".

Bianca's eyes were furious, searching for her friend's phone screen. I couldn't avoid my curiosity, laying forward to read the name "Gaby". Minutes before I had heard Amanda talking about a supposed girlfriend, but I wasn't sure what she meant. 'Maybe a close friend? Or . . . a girlfriend?' Bianca took the phone in her hand in time to hear the other girl's voice saying 'hello' in a confused, sleepy voice.

"Hey babe" She said, while looking at me with her eyebrows raised and eyes widened. I couldn't hear the girl on the other line, but judging by Bianca's response, she was mad to be bothered at a late time, by a drunk adult woman.

"Amanda is drunk and acting like a stubborn kid. . . Yes, I know. . . Alright, good night". She ended the call, putting Amanda's phone in her pocket while shooting an evil gaze on her friend, who instantly sobered up and got quiet.

I couldn't define what exactly was bothering me so much. I couldn't relax my facial expression. My eyebrows decided to remain slightly lowered, while my eyelids were pressed against my eyes, as if trying to read the situation, but was lost in it. A sad feeling surrounded my chest, making it physically hurt. My heart stalled, starting again with a bump that took out my air. Every time I was in her presence I felt like my emotions were in a circus, dropped into a magical world where nothing made logical sense.

I started moving away, leaving both women behind in their drama. It was time to go back home and end that ridiculous night. My friends were watching all the interaction from afar, whispering and staring at me.

"I can't deal with questions . . Please, I need to go home. You guys stay and enjoy your night. Sandy, I am so sorry for destroying your party. Please, don't mind me and have a great time. Okay?"

"I can't leave you like this, Olivia. We are all going back". Sandy said sincerely, but Julio made a sad noise, which was a clue for me to insist for them to stay.

"Sandy. Believe me, I am fine. Besides, I want to be alone. I will share my location with you. Ok? Then you can keep a track of me". I winked at her, with the most false smile of my life. I knew she didn't buy it, but she respected my space.

Leaving that underground hell, I realized how much I needed fresh air. It was a cold night in New York, blessed with a full moon rising outstanding in the dark sky. All my nerves were relieved with the deep breath I took, letting free all my doubts.

"Miss Olivia". Her soft voice made me turn to see her staring at me. She had a confused tone that I had the pleasure - or displeasure- of meeting that night.

"What are you doing here?" I said, in disbelief. Her hands were held together, trying to avoid the freezing air. While Bianca breathed, I could see this white smoke forming in the air. 'What does she think she is doing?' I thought while noticing she left her jacket behind. Rolling my eyes at her, that reacted with a sarcastic, yet nervous, giggle, I took off my jacket, and laid it on her shoulders.

"The last thing I need is you blaming me for getting sick."

I tried to look cool, but the idea of her running after me filled my stomach with butterflies. I couldn't let her win, so I stayed calm next to her, avoiding her gaze. Our silence, however, was getting on my nerves. Breathing, I decided to face her, raising my eyes to her face, which she tried to avoid looking to her side. My knees got so weak with the vision of her red face that I almost fell, if it wasn't for my ability to recover balance. She was blushing fifty tones of red, shy, uncomfortable with her own reaction, trying to hide it behind her dark, curvy hair.

"Oh God" I whispered more to the moon than her, facing the sky, as if questioning the unfairness of that scene.

"Do you want to hear something honest?" She was also looking to the moon, while passing her arms through my jacket, vesting it perfectly. That scene made me shiver. I didn't have any idea how amazing it would be to see her wearing my clothes.

I nodded to her question. With a wide smile, showing me her perfect teeth, she gave her attention back to the dark night, while continuing:

"This was my first night out in 2 years." She made a pause, realizing the meaning of that time. "For two years I was focused on my professional life, working late every night, almost never sleeping. I was so involved in being a mentor to everyone, a perfect professor, a perfect pianist." She laughed at herself, kicking a small stone with her left feet. "It is ironic. I worked so hard to make everyone hate me . . . or be scared of me. I am pathetic, aren't I?"

I wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question, but I stayed in silence, listening to her.

"So many years dedicated to perfection, and look at me now." She stopped, controlling what she would be able to reveal to me. I looked at her, voluntarily vulnerable in my presence, opening her heart as I had never imagined she would do.

"When I received the acceptance letter from NYU", I started talking. "I felt like all my dreams were already coming true. I was so innocent. I didn't have a clue about how hard moving here, by myself, would be. I burst my little-town bubble, to discover a scary world of uncertainties and "you are not good enough" words. People talk about loneliness, but I never understood what that meant . . . until now".

We shared a soft smile, reassuring each other's phrases. Without explicitly saying it, we knew we could understand each other.

"Leaving Spain was the most difficult thing I have ever done. I miss the warmth of people, their free spirit, and the smell of our food. Maybe, even after years, I am still not adapted to this land." She breathed with a tired expression, hiding so many secrets behind those beautiful eyes. Even looking at her so intensely, I still couldn't read her completely. I had so many questions about who she really was, the meaning of her words, or why she was so mean to me. I hated how she always made me feel insecure, and, for one night, I wanted to be different, to have the courage to take the lead instead of being turned by her.

"Why did you come after me?" I said in a burst.

My voice was frank, but weak. I was uncertain if I should ask, or just stay in that perfect honest moment. Seeing her so sober in front of me, without fear of opening up, pushed me to know more about her. A silence prevailed in the air, interrupted by a small movement of her hands passing under her hair and throwing it perfectly to the side, in a sexy curve.

"I don't know". She finally said. I nodded with my head, forfeited by her beauty. In a last attempt at boldness, I look at her face, placing my eyes on hers. She also didn't move, locking me in her orbit. She bit her lower lip while gazing at my mouth. I chuckle nervously, placing my hand on my neck, imagining how it would feel to have her lips on mine.

We stood on that empty street, lighted by the full moon and our unsaid desires. Suddenly, I wasn't cold, nor was she shaking. A warm vibration left our bodies to occupy the space between us, pulling us even closer. Slowly, she stepped a little closer to me, while I left my arms straight down, hoping for our hands to touch. With the corner of my eyes, I studied her, trying to find any sign that she was also wanting skin contact.

"Olivia" A soothing voice left her mouth, while she closed her eyes for a second, before continuing. "I can't control this . . . Oh God, it is more difficult than I thought" She made a pause, sighing at her own frustration. "I needed to see you o-o-ne more time before this ni-ni-ght ended." She stopped, trying to control her words. "Am I making sense?"

Her nervous smile sent me back to our classroom. I remembered that confident professor standing in front of a large group, eyes of a panther, not taking bullshit from anyone. That same woman was now stuttering nervously, sweetly staring at me, potentially flirting. How am I supposed to react?

She put her hand on her cheek, nervously, smiling. I could see her perfect fingernails, painted in a black color, placed perfectly on her slim, long, fingers. Realizing how deep in my thoughts I was, staring at her hand, she moved them to her jeans pockets.

" When I first saw you tonight I was so angry at you." I laughed in disbelief, as if it happened a year ago. "I couldn't stop thinking about you . . . about how you left me in the library earlier. I never bothered about people's opinions. I never felt any kind of complicated feelings towards someone. But you. . ." I stopped, looking at her with the corner of my eyes, noticing she had all her attention on me. "I care about you . . ." I sighed. "Is not even that. You make me feel so many different emotions at the same time, it is confusing. I don't even know how to name half of them."

I laughed about how crazy that sounded. Her mouth was open, and her eyes widened, surprisingly staring at me as if I were saying nonsense. Sadly confused, I waited, almost begging for her positive reaction. I hated feeling vulnerable, but I hated even more how easily she put me in that spot. Frozen, she stayed staring at me, but her eyes were far away from us.

" Olivia" She took a step away from me. " I don't know what to say. I am . . . Hum. . . I don't know"

I laughed, which startled her. Moving my own hair away from my forehead, I took a deep breath and smiled.

"I don't know either. Let's just forget about all this crazy night. Right?" I tried to force a sympathetic smile, to which she responded with sad eyes and constrained lips.

"My car is here. I will see you tomorrow during our training, professor?"

I didn't want to, but I couldn't avoid emphasizing the last word, which sounded sarcastic. My intention was just to remind myself of who she is. However, I felt how much it hurt her. Pushing her lips together, biting inside her cheek, Bianca started taking off my jacket. By impulse, I laid my hand on her shoulder, saying:

"Keep it. You can return it tomorrow."

Without further thoughts, I entered the cab, leaving Bianca speechless, staring at that black car.

___________________________

The morning came with a moral hangover destroying my head. The phrase 'Why did I say that?' Became my mantra, returning to me after every word or gaze I remembered from last night. If I was ever bold, now I was chickenshit. 'Oh God! How did I do that?' I threw myself on the couch at the memory of me asking her to keep my jacket. 'What the hell do I think I am?' I said, hiding my head under the pillow.

"Having a mental breakdown?" Andrew asked me, peacefully drinking his coffee while reading a book.

"I didn't see you! Good morning" I said, trying to recompose myself.

"Don't waste our time." He laughed, which just made me feel comfortable enough to keep hating myself. "I have been there. All of us, for a fact. Need advice?"

"From you? Sorry, but, I don't think I need romantic advice from a womanizer".

"Ouch." He put his hands on his chest, pretending to get hurt. "Just because I have fun, doesn't mean I never catch feelings. I didn't know you had such chauvinist ideas." With an ironic smile, he made himself comfortable by my side. "C'mon. Try me"

Unsure if I should, I looked at him calmly observing me. I needed to talk to someone, and Sandy would get too involved, and I couldn't talk to Mia about me having feelings for girls. Maybe Andrew was the perfect neutral ground I needed at that moment.

"I maybe have feelings for a woman." I said, closing my eyes, scared of his reaction.

"And?" He said, sipping his coffee, as if waiting for me to conclude my thoughts. When he noticed that was all I had to say, a surprise look grew in his green eyes. "That 's all? Is that why you are having a meltdown?"

"YES! Off course. It's huge Andrew! ME! ME having feelings for a woman. Since when?" I got up from the couch, walking back and forward from the couch to the TV.

"Alright, alright. Sit down, farm girl."

"I swear Andrew! This was a mistake, FORGET IT" I yelled at him, almost leaving back to my room if he hadn't held my hands.

"I am sorry. It's clearly an issue for you. I should have reacted properly. Can you please sit down?"

I did as he asked, surprised by his mature side.

"Olivia. This woman you are having feelings for, does she like you back?"

"I don't know," I said in a big sigh. "It's complicated, I think . . . I don't know, Andrew, what to think, or how to interpret her. It's so confusing."

For the first time he acted as a friend to me, holding my hands with a friendly smile.

"Let's say she likes you, for real. What would that mean to you? Would you like that?"

For an instant I considered that possibility. Unconsciously, my brain was already portraying that reality into dreams, which felt really good. However, in real life, the mere possibility of it freaked me out.

"She is gorgeous, I confess. Every time we are close I experience different feelings. She makes my body feel a way I never have before. But at the same time, she has this power over me that I hate. I always felt like I gave her more than she could return. I never know what she is really thinking."

"Humm" He mumbled.

"What?"

"Well. I don't think you are scared of your feelings for her. You are more scared of the possibility of them becoming real. Deep inside, you already know you like her. Now, you need to understand what that means to you."

"ME. LIKING GIRLS?" I yelled, more in realization than in disbelief.