On a brisk Wednesday in mid October, Misha was running late, which was unusual. He had been up late working in his shop which caused him to sleep in. Then his father decided to send a text message threatening the same repercussions his mother already warned him about should he continue to refuse the path they chose for him. Needless to say, his mood was sour.

But one benefit to running late was that he saw Kayden locking up her bike to the rack outside the technology building. She was wearing a hooded long sleeve crop top, very short denim shorts, and snow boots over knee-high leg warmers. A confusing mix, to be sure, especially given the lack of snow.

Before slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she pulled a tumbler from the side pocket. As she straightened and turned away from the bike rack, he came within earshot.

“Good morning, Kayden.”

She whipped her head around, expression brightening as soon as she recognized him. “Mornin’! You’re running late today. I can’t believe it.” Taking a sip, she waited for him to reach her before walking alongside him.

He let out an exasperated sigh and tucked his free hand in his pocket. “Yeah, neither can I.” He glanced sideways quickly to see her tighten her backpack straps. “So, help me out here, Kayden.”

“Hm?”

“Are you hot…or are you cold?” He grinned.

She briefly paused walking to examine herself before looking back up to him and smugly answering, “Yes.”

He let out a single laugh with his smile.

“You’re saying my outfit is absurd.”

“I’m saying it’s nonsensical.” They exchanged a look: her eyes narrowed with a playful frown.

“Fashion generally is.”

 “I’m just teasing you.” He swung the door open and held it for her, meeting her eyes again. “You look great, even if impractical.” He winked at her, right before she stumbled a little over the threshold.

She recovered quickly, pulling open the next set of internal doors. “Well, thanks. I wouldn’t be wearing this if I was coming into work today, of course.”

Misha grabbed the door from her to let her pass through first. “Of course.” With another wink and a wave, they parted ways to their respective classrooms.

When he returned to the office after class, Justina nearly pounced on him.

“Misha! I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

He barely got his messenger bag onto his desk before she was in the room with him. “What is it?”

“You know how we’re hosting the Fright Night this year?”

His brows furrowed together, perplexed. “…No? Who is ‘we’?”

She waved her hand. “The office of Equity and Inclusion.”

“Oh—“

“Anyway, it’s after midterms and we need another chaperone.”

He popped up an eyebrow. “You’re asking me?”

“Yeah. You’re sort of intimidating.”

“I’m not sure which part of that sentence hurt worse, the intimidating part or ‘sort of’.”

She laughed. “We just need another man to stand around and make sure no one is spiking the punch bowl in the student center.” She shrugged. “In fairness it’s not really a bowl. Drinks will be in cooler dispensers so it would be a lot more difficult to spike them, but still.”

“I…” His mind instantly went to Kayden and how she loves Halloween and how she would definitely be at a school-hosted Halloween event and how she said her costume was a sexy vampire. “I’m sorry Justina, but no, thank you.”

Both her hands went on her hips. “What? Why not! It’ll be super easy, I promise. Almost nothing weird ever goes down at these things.”

Both eyebrows arched high. “Almost?”

“Come on, do it for me.”

He ran his palm over his tamed hair. “Justina…you know how students like to dress at these things, don’t you?”

She looked puzzled.

“Halloween in college is just an excuse to wear as little as you can get away with to show off.”

That made her eyebrows crease even harder. “So?”

He glared at her. “I don’t really want to see my students half naked.”

She snorted. “How many STEM majors do you think are actually going to dress half naked to a campus event?”

His lips thinned. At least one. He sighed. “I teach more than just STEM majors, Jus.” When she simply shrugged in response he pinched the bridge of his nose, beginning to give up the fight. “Will I at least be in a staff vest or something so a student doesn’t once again confuse me for a peer and start grinding on me?”

“Just wear a fuddy-duddy old sweater vest. And your badge lanyard. I’m sure that’ll tip them off.”

Defeated, he moved to sit at his desk. “Okay, fine, send me the details. What am I getting out of this, by the way?”

She smiled and winked. “Good karma.”

Standing against the railings beside the drink table at a party of late teens and twenty-somethings reminded Misha of his uncomfortably awkward adolescence. Somehow, being a chaperone at one of these “dances” might have been worse than back when he was just an underage attendee.

He had taken Justina’s advice and worn a bland argyle sweater vest over one of his button-ups, leaving both untucked from his khaki pants. Even with his badge obviously hanging around his neck, partygoers still stared at him and exchanged whispers as he patrolled the second story above the rotunda-turned-dance-floor. Patrolling wasn’t necessary—there was already a hired security guard doing that—but pacing helped take his mind off of his discomfort.

Until a younger student shouted something at him. Of course he couldn’t hear her very well over the music. He turned his head and leaned in, yelling, “What?”

“Are you supposed to be Clark Kent!?”

His face contorted in confusion and he pointed to his face. “Clark Kent with a beard?”

The young woman covered her mouth and laughed. She couldn’t have been twenty yet. Her costume was a provocative Supergirl. “Hey it could work! Even without the glasses!”

He pinched his lanyard and brought the badge eye level to her with thinned lips. “I’m just a chaperone.”

Gawking up at him, her smile fell. “Oh!” She pivoted side to side, as if lost. “Sorry!” Eventually she picked a direction and scurried off into it.

Yup. Worse than being ignored.

After a lap around the rotunda, he parked himself by the drink station which was just outside the exit for the haunted house. Unsure what to do with his hands, he tucked them in his front pockets and leaned his lower back against the railing.

People-watching was basically part of the job description, so he decided to check out everyone’s costumes. The football players seemed to pick between sexy firefighter, lumberjack, or caveman. A handful of young women were in variations of the classic sexy cop, nurse or nun costumes. There were some inventive ones and unsexy ones like a giant sponge or toothbrush, but most fit in the “sexy” category.

Exiting the haunted house was a pair of clearly close friends, laughing about the jumpscares. One’s costume was an authentic Persian assassin—a Hashshashin—and the other was—

Kayden.

A knot formed in his gut as they approached the table. Suddenly his heart raced as his eyes widened and lips parted in surprise. Kayden’s gaze shifted up and finally locked on to him. Her smile faltered, eyes also widening as she froze, gaping at him.

He almost didn’t recognize her, especially in the dim light.

A small top hat with elaborate ribbons, roses and feathers was clipped askew atop her scalp, with her hair in an elegant pin-up. A few coils of hair framed her face. Dark eye shadow and false lashes seemed to enlarge her already round eyes. For once, her cheeks weren’t red—an indication she was wearing foundation. A high collar connected to a black bodice which laced at the front—with nothing underneath—giving her a breast lift and some cleavage, despite her small size. Lace gloves crawled up to her elbows, showing off her bare muscular upper arms. A strand of lace gently engulfed her throat. And that bustle skirt…was very short. Leather boots reached just above her knee with straps down the side. He tried hard not to stare at those lithe thighs, so instead he focused on her agape red lips, false fangs barely visible, fake dried blood down her chin.

“Doc—Kaiser!” She recovered from her surprise.

He winced slightly at her nearly calling him Doctor, which also helped him remember to breathe. He forced his jaw closed with a smile and raised his voice to be heard. “Hi Kayden, Aisha.”

They both waved enthusiastically.

Kayden grabbed Aisha’s wrist and pulled her to Misha, bypassing the table. “Look—this is the costume that won her first place!”

Aisha pulled her face cover back over her nose and mouth to look sinister as she posed with a foam blade.

He leaned forward so she could hear him. “I can see why. You really know what you’re doing!”

Kayden spread her arms to show off her outfit. His heart beat even faster. “She made this, too!”

Aisha pulled the mouth cover away. “Well, most of it.”

“You are quite the seamstress.”

Kayden was nearly his height in those boots. She stood dangerously close to him. “I told her she needs to open a store and make some money.”

He gave Aisha a thumbs-up. “I agree.” With the same hand, he reached across his body and rested his fingers on Kayden’s upper arm. “Hey, I didn’t get to see you today, so happy birthday.”

She flinched slightly at his touch so he withdrew his hand, but she smiled brightly at him. “Thanks!”

“I was going to leave this on your desk, but I wasn’t sure you would be in.” He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a credit card-sized cardboard sleeve, pinning it between his index and middle finger to present it to her.

Aisha slowly backed away and sidestepped to retrieve some lemonade.

Puzzled, Kayden graciously took it and peeked inside: a gift card for the local athletic store. Twenty dollars. Her eyes narrowed as she pressed her lips together in mock annoyance. “Oh, you had to one-up me, huh?” She fondly tapped his shoulder with her knuckles.

Hands back in his pockets, he grinned and leaned closer to her ear. “I think my salary is a bit more than yours.”

She laughed loudly. “Fair enough!” She used one hand to dig into her bodice and lift a breast and with the other hand tucked the card between it and the fabric.

Misha looked elsewhere, pretending to survey the punch table. His heart rate had yet to normalize.

She gestured to his sweater vest. “What’s up with this? You in costume?”

He hung his head, shaking it with a chuckle before returning close to her ear. “No. I thought if I dressed like a stiff, people would know I’m a professor instead of a student.”

“Yeah, no. Nobody wears those anymore, so it makes it look like a costume.” She pinched and tugged the fabric, which made his abdomen flex and his skin tingle under the grip. “Aren’t you hot in it?”

“Excruciatingly.”

Her cheek barely missed his as she leaned in. “Take it off!” When she stepped back, their eyes remained locked.

His smile vanished, and he imagined he looked stupefied as his focus darted back and forth from one eye to the other. Did she just tell him to take off his shirt?

She blinked a few times before tugging the collar of his button-up to clarify, “Just wearing this will make it more obvious you’re not in costume.”

Right. He did have another shirt on underneath. How could he forget? He scanned the crowded floor, uneasy.

She followed his gaze before going back to his ear. “It’s fine, most people here are naked. You can get away with taking off a layer.” She smiled at him reassuringly, patting him on the shoulder and then turning around to get a drink.

While she was away, he swiftly tore off the sweater vest and draped it over the railing, not really caring what might happen to it. He stole a glance at Kayden’s neck as she threw her head back to chug lemonade.

Why did that neck look so kissable?

Burying his hands back into his pockets, he scanned over the crowd.

Suddenly, he was also thirsty. And maybe a little dizzy.

As if reading his mind, Kayden reappeared beside him with a cup of lemonade and a smile. “Hope you like overly sweet lemonade.”

He didn’t. But he gave her a half grin with thanks, taking a big gulp. It was definitely too sweet.

She gestured to his untucked shirt. “Look at that, suddenly you’ve transformed back into an authority figure.”

He exaggerated a sigh of relief. “Finally.”

Aisha appeared beside Kayden and grabbed her forearm. “It was good to see you, Kaiser. We’re going to go dance.” She tugged her Victorian Vampire friend away.

She seemed unwilling but complied, waving her goodbyes before disappearing in the direction of the stairs.

Misha stared into his beverage, dazed. Sweat had pooled into his armpits. How much of that was from the heat of the crowd, and how much was from his proximity to Kayden? And why did her proximity fluster him so much?

He turned around, leaning over and supporting his weight on the railing with his forearms. The DJ below continued choosing the most bass-heavy, grind-inducing music he could find. Misha’s eyes wandered over the crowd, not really focusing much on anyone in particular until they found the top hat.

Kayden’s hands were above her head as she swayed and bounced her hips. Everyone else around her blurred. His mouth went dry again. The high vantage point gave him the perfect view of her cleavage. He stared at her only a few more seconds before tearing his eyes away and spinning back around. Panic crept up in him. Oh no. Why are you staring?

Realization came over him as he chugged the rest of his drink, wishing it had been spiked after all. As he tossed the empty cup into the nearest trash can, he ran his hand over his hair, causing the gel’s hold to weaken.

Five years he had been a professor at the university. Five years he never so much as took a second glance at a student, let alone harbored…affections for one. Sure, of course she had caught his eye the first day they met, but it wasn’t…like this. It’s one thing to notice an attractive person—but this? How could he let this happen?

He avoided the railings and instead leaned against one of the square support columns, rapping the back of his head on the drywall, desperately wishing he had brought his e-cigarette inside with him.

Fuck.

It was time to get back into dating, after all.

Off campus.