Getting a new blouse

I continued to pat down my ruined shirt with Melody's pants as I walked into the social sciences building. It was useless as it wasn’t getting any dryer and there was no hope of me getting to a laundromat in time to keep this stain from setting. The stain was right smack dab in the center, creating an oval just barely too thin to make the area over my nipples transparent. Still, incredibly unprofessional. I dropped the clothes into the trash bin by the door and adjusted the strap of my messenger bag. Then I walked off to the elevator in a huff.

“I need a shirt, and fast,” I said after I walked out of the elevator downstairs.

I looked to the right and there was a door on the far wall of the hallway. The brass plaque on it read “Dr. Katherine Glouse” and underneath, in a slightly smaller font, “philosophy professor.” A foot and a half below was a crinkled paper attached to the door with beige masking tape that read her office hours. I pouted and stomped my feet for a moment before sucking my teeth as I realized what I had to do.

I knocked and opened the door in a single motion, not waiting for a response. I knew Katherine was in because she never closes the blinds on her office window. Unlike me, the woman does not know the concept of boundaries between teachers and students. She looked up from her obnoxiously loud typing on her keyboard when she heard the door slam against her wall, rattling all the knick-knacks and photos she hung on it.

“Oh hi, Dr. Jemisin.” She knew we were not on a first-name basis despite teaching together for almost a decade now. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

I scoffed at her attempt at wit and let go of the door. It's to what do I owe the pleasure. The door slammed again and I crossed my arms.

“I need your shirt,” I said.

“Oh well I,” She briefly looked down at her blouse, then back up at me. “Kinda need it.” She laughed nervously with a grin.

I slapped her. Hard.

“Give me your blouse,” I demanded. I opened up my hand lazily to accept it and rest my head to the side. She sniffled and held back tears as she got up and started unbuttoning. Her usual unbound energy was spent in one motion.

I looked Katherine up and down as she undressed. She's a heavier-set woman than me. Her straight silvery brown hair was in a short bob with bangs covering most of her forehead. She had fair skin bordering on pale but overall looked fine for her age. She wore more makeup than average as she's self-conscious about the few wrinkles she has. As she unbuttons I see her tummy. It's small for someone who has had two kids but still notable. She shook the blouse off her shoulders and sniffled to hold back more tears. She put it in my hand and I turned to the door the moment my fingers touched fabric.

“Please bring it back at the end of the day,” She called out to me as I walked away.

“No,” I said, mocking her chipper cadence. I walked out the door with another slam. I heard rattling as the knick-knacks on her nearby shelf shook violently.