Arriving at Professor Dunn’s door a little flustered was the result of finding time had flown by a lot quicker than expected. Cavelle meant to knock lightly but with her vision a little blurred by tears she tripped at the last moment and ended up giving the door quite a thump. She recovered quickly and hadn’t hurt herself but the sudden noise startled the professor who spilled his drink over his desk. Cavelle was mortified.
"Yes..." he sounded nervous.
“Oh... Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you!”
She rushed forward looking in her bag for something to try and help him mop up the mess with but to her surprise he jumped up and intercepted her. He used his own tie for the job instead. Cavelle smiled shyly; there had always been something about Professor Dunn that intrigued her. He was a strange man but extremely intelligent and not entirely unattractive despite his age, but really, who uses their tie to mop a spilled soda? She felt herself sympathetic to his awkwardness. It was something she could relate to.
“Are you okay dear? Have you been crying?”
She blushed. This whole situation was becoming embarrassing.
“No professor, I don’t know if you recognize me but I’m Cavelle Bates, I normally wear glasses in your lectures. I’m trying out contact lenses for the first time today. It’s harder than I thought it would be.”
That was the truth and it was also part of why she was here. She’d climbed out of bed that morning at a leisurely nine am. With no morning lectures she could afford to sleep in. She took her time in the shower and even considered a little play time while she had herself all soaped up and slippery but the anticipation of trying out the new disposable contact lenses her optometrist had given her changed her mind. If this trial went well she would commit to buying a long term pair. It was all part of her plan to reinvent herself.
Out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her tall slender frame and her favorite fluffy towel wrapped around her short dyed black hair she’d looked at the little double container with excitement. Getting them in was the tricky part. The optometrist had shown her how during her appointment and with his gentle assistance she’d managed to fit them on the third try. This was the first time she’d tried by herself though and it proved more difficult alone.
After a quarter of an hour of painful poking and prodding as well as a few minutes of teary eyed blinking she was finally able to look at herself in the mirror and see clearly without glasses for the first time since half way through primary school when her vision had begun to deteriorate. For the most part she liked what she saw, though maybe she wished she had a bit more shape to her legs.
Cavelle was a tall woman, she’d begun to shoot away at about fourteen years old and by the time she was eighteen she’d stood half a head above most of the other girls. She had a lean figure and was fit from playing netball but she was shy and dressed conservatively.
That and maybe also the glasses had kept her under the radar where boys were concerned. That was something she planned to change. The truth was that at twenty one she was starting to feel lonely. She looked with envy at the other girls out and about with their boyfriends or flirting shamelessly in the student cafeteria. Though it didn’t come naturally to her she was intending to get noticed. The contacts were phase one of the plan. Phase two, new sexier clothes, would be next but there were budgetary limitations to this plan. As a result phase one point five was getting a paid job.
Professor Dunn had left a note on the notice board saying he was looking for second year students to help tutor some of his first years. So after an afternoon lecture with Professor Price and a hot chocolate at the University Cafe she’d headed for the admin block where Professor Dunn's office was located on the second floor.
What she hadn’t been expecting was how glorious the setting sun would look from the second story windows. The winter gods were really putting on a show this evening. Every tint of orange painted the underside of the ominously building clouds and when Cavelle lifted her hand to the window glass the light painted her slender wrist a pale shade of peach.
She spent a minute taking it all in but staring at the sunset with new contacts in was very irritating on her eyes. She’d been wearing the new lenses all day and her eyes were at their limit. Tears started to flow and she couldn’t wipe them away fast enough as she headed for the professor’s door with dark blue and green spots in her vision, a strange contrast to the beauty of the sky outside.