I can't say I was avoiding Tia, but seeing her name on my phone screen gave me goosebumps all over my skin. Was I excited, or scared? Looking back to the night we kissed, I remembered how attracted I was to her, opening myself to a point where all my guards were down, even if only for a few minutes. On the other hand, what I feel for professor Molina pulled me to an orbit of anticipation never felt before, as if I stopped controlling all my senses to give in to this strange energy. I wasn't myself near her, or at least not a self I was aware about. With Tia I was too awake, with Bianca I was lost in a weird wonderland.

"Olivia. How are you?"

Her voice was serene, reminding me of her beautiful smile and sweet personality.

"Tia!" My voice sounded more enthusiastic than I previewed. " I am good, tired, but good. How about you?"

She let out a quiet giggle. "I'm great and because of that I want to celebrate tonight. What are you doing today around 8 pm? C'mon, it's Saturday. Don't tell me you need to study"

The worst part of feeling confused about your feelings is the insecurity it entails. It is as if each word needed to be carefully chosen, all actions reconsidered over and over, in a desperate attempt to avoid mistakes. Insecurity ends up isolating us from ourselves, and if ignored could lead us to a tremendous depersonalization to a point where we can't separate desires from fears.

"I - I - Hummm. Don - Don't know. Humm" The discomfort was evident, highlighted by Tia sigh on the other side of the call.

"Jezz Girl. You need to relax. Do you think every attempt of mine to talk to you has hidden intentions?"

"NO." I screamed unexpectedly, which Tia answered with a laugh. "I am the worst, I know. Sorry. Is Saturday morning but I feel like I already lived half of it."

"What happened?" She sounded genuinely worried, which I couldn't deny was charming.

"Nothing important. But tell me, what are you planning?"

"Glad you ask. I am having a little get together at my apartment, just a few friends, some music, and drinks. You know, low key and relaxing. You could meet new people, other musicians chasing the dream. What do you say?"

Maybe it was not a bad idea, an opportunity to expand my horizons and forget about last night and how I almost kissed my professor. Could also be a chance for me to better understand my feelings for Tia and what she means to me, because one thing I know for sure: she doesn't deserve to be played and I would regret being the person who hurt someone who only shows affection towards me.

"Actually, I will accept your invitation. Thanks for inviting me Tia, for real."

"Don't be sweet on me Olivia, my heart can't take it." Her tone was sarcastic, but I could feel a hint of truth in those words.

"Stop making things weird. How am I supposed to react to that?"

"I have some ideas". She giggled. "Not by phone, though, that would be too high tech for me"

"Alright, bye Tia. See you later"

"Bye Chérie. I will text you my address, you ran so fast last time that I'm sure you have no idea where I live".

She was gone, leaving behind a big smile on my face. My heart was no longer drained by concerns or confusion, all I needed was to focus on the easy night ahead of me. Hopefully, no dramas or feelings, only a nice night out with strangers.

The subway emerged from the underground world to show New York's skyscrapers, old buildings and its small balconies. In my small town, I used to dream about what New York would look like, romanticizing its straight streets, charming coffee shops, and hippie apartments. For so long it was like a dream land, so magical it was unreal, a city where dreams come true and freedom was evident on each corner. Now, sitting on this subway I can observe the real New York, where people work hard to not give up, a place full of dreamers that never stop believing in the magic behind this legendary city. It is beautiful to see the real New York, and if you look deep enough, you can even feel its pulse.

Another chime from my phone. This time it was an e-mail notification.

"Dear Olivia Harding, "

A freezing sensation filled my chest and I read who had sent that email: professor Molina. My first reaction was to close my screen, putting my phone back on my backpack. My hands were sweating, my mind traveling back to this morning when I was pushing her body against mine, our lips almost touching. 'What was I thinking? I am so stupid.' I knew the most prudent idea would be to finish reading that email instead of letting my mind fly in a world of possibilities, but I couldn't control my discomfort. I crossed a line, throwing away all my justifications. She has all the reasons to be mad, or even to refuse to keep being my professor. 'Oh fuck. What if she tells other professors? Or if the whole department knows? What if she accuses me of harassment? Can she do that?' My mind couldn't stop drawing all possible worst scenarios.

'Olivia. CALM DOWN' I yelled at myself, forcing me to take a deep breath and finally open the email.

"Dear Olivia Harding,

I was impressed by your performance this morning playing the Final Sonata. The other students were also pleased with your talent. After some consideration, I would like to invite you for a secluded meeting I host at my house to a group of selected students every Sunday morning. It's a place where they feel free to play their favorite pieces or originals, and get prepared for important auditions under my tutoring.

If this is something you would be interested in, please reply to this email with your phone number so I can send you details.

Sincerely,

Professor Molina".

'What the actual fuck' was the only possible reaction I could have for that message. 'Did I dream about it this morning? Maybe I never tried to kiss her. Was it all some type of hallucination?' My eyes were glued to my phone, reading over and over the same words to see if it missed any type of secret message or underlying threat. 'How . . . Why . . . ' My mind was racing, trying to come up with a satisfying answer for that email. It was a possibility that my professor decided to completely ignore my stupid behavior, focusing again on only teaching me piano, which just made me feel more foolish than ever. Or maybe, she invited me there to make it clear the difference of our status, and that I would never have a real chance with her. 'Wait, since when do I want to have a chance with her?'.

"Dear professor Molina, " I started typing, hoping I would figure out what to say while typing, which didn't happen, and I froze, staring at my screen. I got out from the subway station, walking while typing, and erasing over and over again. Miraculously, I didn't hit anyone on that busy, rainy morning in Brooklyn.

"Dear professor Molina,

I am honored by this invitation, and though I think am not on the level of your current students, I would love to accept the invitation. Please, send me the details at (215) 423-1144.

Best, Olivia."

That was it, cold and professional, as she wanted. Reading such piercing words made my heart shrink with a sudden sadness. Even with all the intense and short moments we shared in the last 48 hours, I was still far away from Bianca. Maybe I was getting closer to my professor, but the woman behind her was refusing to let me know her, making it clear I was nothing more than one more talented student. I wasn't special, or unique for her, nothing more than a skilled future pianist. If you would have asked me months ago, I would die to be seen by her as a mere good pianist, imagine being invited to her inner circle. However, the sensation of her warm body close to mine, her soft hands on my arms, those amber eyes laying on me, all became much more important in my heart, and I hated it.

I was betraying myself, even sabotaging my own dreams, but ignoring how attracted I was to her was becoming impossible. As a good masochist, I accepted to be closer, seeing her more than necessary, grabbing any crumb she could give. Finally arriving at my apartment, I laid on my bed, crying out all my frustrations.

Ting.

I grab my phone to see a message from an unknown number.

For a second, I was surprised, but soon I realized how angry those words made me feel. Astonished by her behavior, pretending that nothing happened between us, was worse than her yelling at me or accusing me of mistaking her signs. I would feel better if she hit my face, than dissimulate our almost kiss. A laugh left my lips as I realized how insignificant our last meeting was for her, while for me it was as if my heart left my chest from such excitement. Again, there I was, staring at my phone, obsessed about how I could sound as cold as she was. If that was the game she wanted to play, I was in.

There it was, sent. For a second, I was relieved. No extra vulnerability, she had already seen more of my feelings than I was willing to share. No more weird staring or heart jumping, all I needed was to remind myself of who she is, my professor, nothing more. With those thoughts in my head, it was time for me to ignore my hurt feelings and prepare for the night, a peaceful party filled with music and alcohol. What else could I ask for?

_____________________________________________________

The sound of my alarm awakened me from my unexpected nap. 'Oh God. I am late', jumping from my bed, I fell with my face on the floor, tripping on my own blanket. It didn't take long for me to start feeling my face burn, with a hot and painful sensation. 'Great, now I will be even more beautiful tonight'. My makeup knowledge was nonexistent, leaving me with the only option of going to a party with a bruise on my left cheek.

On the subway was when I had the chance to check my phone for the first time since my unforeseen shutdown.

A message from Mia popped up, making my lips smile in a stupid - but innocent- way. Since I left, I discovered her dramatic side, where me calling her twice a week was now a sign of bad friendship. I replied to her calling Mia my favorite drama queen, updating her about professor Molina's invitation, withholding all the kissing drama and gay resolution. I wasn't ready to talk to her about my recent attraction to girls, it would make it all too real, even for me.

Scrolling down my notifications, my heart almost stopped when I saw a message from professor Molina. It was incredible how simply by reading her name on my phone made my body react as if the air were being absorbed from my atmosphere. Scared of clicking on it, I closed my eyes, trying to mentally prepare myself for any possible scenario. None of them ended well for me.

I stopped reading, knowing every time she called me from my first name, without Miss, she was getting intimate. Now I knew I had a big chance of reading something I would not be ready to answer, or know how to answer. 'Should I ruin my night with it, or just ignore it for now?'. Putting my phone in my pocket, I decided on the last option, taking a deep breath and focusing on enjoying a night away from my feelings towards my professor.

"OLIVIA!". Tia yelled from the other side of her apartment, running to embrace me in a tight hug. I enjoyed how happy she was from seeing me, a familiar sensation of being wanted . "I am so happy to see you. I was starting to think I would need to call you and drag your ass to my house."

I laugh at the idea, seeing me as this stupid cartoon being dragged by a fierce lady into the subway. I hugged her back, happy for having Tia in my life. She was becoming an important friend, slowly winning an important space in my heart with her honest reactions and patience.

"I am actually really happy to be here tonight." Her left arm was resting around my neck, while she held a beer in her other hand, staring at my face while smiling at me with all her teeth. She was the most beautiful woman that night, without requiring extra makeup or dressing up, simply by being this happy human being radiating light. Observing her, I could see how everyone was in love with her, calling for her attention, excited for her opinion about every small detail or point of view.

She wasn't just the life of the party, but the party itself. Everyone was there for her, to be part of her story, and I was one of them, a perplexed viewer of her own show. Her eyes were shining life, sending sarcastic gaze as reaction for jokes or salty comments. Her lips formed sexy smirks every time her comments made her friends roll their eyes in disbelief.

"I can't believe you said that" One of them replied to one of her stories.

We were a small group of 12 people, different gender identifications and expressions. I had never met such an interesting group of young people, so sure of themselves and their wants, living their dream even with all the challenges. None of them were in college, a palace they considered 'a black hole for talents . . . and money', which I couldn't completely argue with.

"Is the NYU program as good as you expected? Is it worth it?" One of her friends, Daniel, asked me in the middle of a discussion about how unfair the education system is in the United States. To be honest with myself, I was too drunk and tired to answer it properly, but I don't even know if I had an opinion about it when sober. My silence, and probably confusion, was a sign for Tia to save me. Pulling my arm, she whispered something in her friend's ear that made his eyes sparkly, while asking the same question to Luna, a ferocious defender of socialism.

"Are you okay?" Tia asked me, placing a layer of my hair behind my ear. I wasn't drunk enough to ignore how close we were, and even feeling amazingly attracted by her charming personality, and soft lips, I decided to step away.

"I just need some food and fresh air. I will be right back, okay?"

"Yea, the balcony door is open. Do you want me to keep you company?"

Placing my hand on her shoulder, softly squeezing it, I denied explaining that I just needed some time alone to recover from all that socialization. She nodded as if she understood me, going back to her group.

The night was cold, probably around thirty degrees, which I loved. Living in Arizona, the weather was always a challenge. Now it was like I could finally relax by simply standing in the darkness, enjoying the cold air entering my body. For the first time, after hours, I remembered the professor's message on my phone. It was now time to face my ghosts.

I looked at the time, now almost midnight. 'Is she still awake?' I wondered, reading the message again. It was hard to stop my curiosity, imagining what made her change her mind about ignoring . . . us. 'Is it possible she invited me for this group only as an excuse to have my number?' I would prefer to believe not, because it would deny my potential talent to be around those renowned students.

I wasn't expecting her to call me 2 minutes after I sent the message. In my head, she was only going to see my reply tomorrow morning, and we would have a conversation after both of us had a decent night of sleep. Taking a deep breath, not because I was nervous, but actually sad, expecting nothing more than a request to forget everything that happened.

"Olivia. I wasn't expecting your reply anymore." Her voice sounded nervous.

"Sorry professor, I just saw it now. How are you?" I hit my face with my left hand in disbelief, what a stupid question. I could hear her quiet giggle, as she answered how good she was feeling and returned to me the same question.

"Good. Good." I said, my eyes down as if she was in front of me and I needed to avoid her gaze. "You said you wanted to talk to me. Hum. So - What is it about?"

"Straight to business Hum!" She laughed. I hated how confident she sounded even across the phone, while my heart was almost frozen, scared of each word that left my mouth.

"Olivia" She continued, almost as if whispering in my ear, making my skin electrified. "I want to apologize."

"Apologize?" I repeated, in surprise. I wasn't expecting her to feel sorry, when I was the one to be blamed. She sighed deeply, and I could imagine her hand running through her hair in frustration.

"I think I have been sending you wrong signs. I mean, I want to say that I understand why you thought I was giving you space to think that so-some-thing was happening between us. Friday night I was drunk and feeling emotionally unstable, and you were there and I thought I could share with you.. Which was naïve of me. And this morning, well, I don't think I need to say how inappropriate it was."

I gulp in complete disbelief, running in my mind all the memories I had about us since Friday. 'I couldn't be completely wrong, could I? It was all my imagination, she was never interested in me, or even flirting with me?' Inside the apartment I could hear laughs, but I had never felt so alone. Mostly because her words meant that I was alone in those feelings, that it was all my imagination and she was never tempted to kiss me.

I probably stayed in silence for a while, when I heard her calling my name.

"Olivia, are you still there?"

"Yes, I was just thinking about what you said."

She made a sound indicating she understood me.

"I am sorry Olivia"

"When I first met you I thought I would never hear you apologizing, and now it seems like it is the only thing you can tell me" I sighed, in a quiet smile, to which she replied with silence.

"Now it is probably my time to apologize to you, professor. Oh God, it sounds so crazy. I never imagined being in such a weird position in my life. I really admire you as a pianist, as a woman, as a professor. You are the most talented pianist I have ever met, after my beloved grandpa." I laughed. "And I totally made a fool of myself. You probably think I am so stupid to even think . . ."

"Olivia, stop, please, That's not what I meant" She interrupted me, her voice was quiet, but I could still recognize her husky tone. "You are not a fool, and I can even feel flattered by your words . . . I just thought it was my responsibility to make it clear . . . Hum . . . I do not see you that way. Do I make sense?" Her nervous laugh resonated in my ears.

"Clear as Crystal. Thank you for continuing to believe in my talent, even after my behavior this morning. I am truly sorry and I promise it is never going to happen again."

Now it was her time to fill the call with silence. I didn't have anything else to say, and probably neither did she. My stupid heart, however, wanted to keep listening to her breath as if it could hold on to any second left before it was all erased by the next morning.

"O-LI-VIA, Cherie" Tia's voice as she opened the balcony's door put an end to all my hope. Seeing that I was on a call, she whispered while laughing, definitely showing signs that she drank way too much, but leaving me alone.