“You need to stop daydreaming.” Alex came to stand behind her. Maya glanced over her shoulder at the woman, who was frowning, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I'm sorry,” Maya apologized again, grabbing another bowl and filling it, handing it across the counter to the next student in line.

“That's what I keep telling her.” The voice made Maya drop the ladle yet again as she looked up and saw her creative writing professor standing in line. She sighed, grabbing the napkin and dabbing at her apron once more.

“'Out, damned spot.'” He handed her a napkin from the top of the counter. She looked up at him when he referenced Macbeth and saw a familiar sarcastic smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “No crime in spilled soup, but daydreaming romantic fantasies? Perhaps…”

“How do you know what I was daydreaming about?” She had an urge to stick her tongue out at him.

“Write what you know, Maya.” His eyes were full of knowing.

Maya flushed. “I doubt Shakespeare was ever a power-hungry woman. Soup, Professor Reardon?” She picked up the ladle and filled a bowl. She held it out to him and his hand brushed hers as he took it. She was startled by the electricity in that moment. Maya met his dark eyes and they were smiling at her, but his mouth wasn't.

“Touche!” He winked. “See you in class.” He moved up to the front of the line. Teachers didn't have to queue like the rest.

“What was that all about?” The older woman handed her a new apron, and Maya took off the dirty one, tossing it under the counter.

“Nothing. He just…” Maya looked after him, seeing his tweed coat through the myriad of bright splashes of student color. There was the man who'd dashed all her hopes with the stroke of a red pen. “He doesn't like my writing, I guess.”

Alex raised her eyebrows. “Not doing well in his class?”

“No.” Maya sighed. She'd always done well in writing classes, and she'd won award after award in high school. She'd been sure she would shine in college, and here she was a sophomore, finally in her first writing class, and she was finding out what it was like to be a little fish in a very big pond. She didn't like it at all.