What surprised me the most about Roxanne was just how warm she was. After our semester together, where her look-at-me, know-it-all routine was on full display, I was expecting to have to endure a month with a Lisa Simpson-type. But the more we worked together, the more her guard seemed to go down, and the more I realized that she was just a sweet, kind-hearted college girl, and it was simply her eagerness to impress the teacher that gave her the impression of being the little show-off brainiac that I'd assumed she was.

The next day flew by, and we'd made excellent progress at the site. Roxanne worked through her very apparent anxiety fairly quickly and soon proved herself to be a diligent and useful worker. But when the day was done and both of us were covered in dust from the day of being elbow-deep in the ruins at the site, we were both eager to get back to the hotel, collect our things, and make our way over to the bed and breakfast.

"Enjoy the rest of your time in town," said the innkeeper, flashing me a wink as we checked out, his gaze flicking over to Roxanne.

What is this guy's deal? I wondered as we left. He seemed to be pretty invested in the idea of Roxanne and me getting together for some reason. Personally, I was trying to ignore just how attractive she was. Not having the distraction of a pretty young co-ed walking around the room in a towel was a pretty big reason why I was looking forward to us having our own rooms, to be frank.

Our bags in hand, we grabbed a cab to the other side of town where the bed and breakfast was located. The road leading there was winding, and took us far from the small center of town. Eventually, we arrived at a two-story wooden cottage that sat on a small hill, the ground around it a brilliant, emerald green.

"That grass is almost as green as your eyes," I said as we arrived.

"Oh, thank you," said Roxanne, a soft blush coming to her cheeks.

I checked myself; I'd only said what I'd said as a statement of fact- a simple comparison. But it appeared that I'd accidentally let a compliment slip out. I grew somewhat worried that my slight attraction to Roxanne might continue to bubble to the surface like this. As we took our bags out of the car, I reminded myself that while she and I were both adults, I was the one in a position of authority here, and I needed to be careful to not take advantage of that. I'd taught enough co-eds to know the attraction that authority has for some girls.

We approached the little cabin, which was quite quaint and very charming. I found the key and opened the front door, holding it open for Roxanne. She sidled in past me, her face blushing as she passed.

"Wow," she said, stepping into the place and looking around.

The cottage interior was set up in a very cozy country style, almost like something you'd expect to find in a Midwestern prairie rather than in an eastern European village. The floors were a lovely birch color, the ceilings had charmingly exposed wood beams, and the place was furnished with wooden furniture, the dominant colors while, a sky blue, and a soft yellow. There was even a fireplace in the living room.

"This is so nice," said Roxanne, setting her bags down. "And we have it all to ourselves?"

"Yep," I said, stepping into the dining room and setting my bags on the large farmer's table that extended the length of the room. "It's normally a bed and breakfast, but the owners are on vacation for the summer."

"I've been living in a crappy little student apartment for so long that I'd forgotten what it's like to live in an actual house," she said, plopping down onto a long, white couch in the living room and making herself comfortable.

I walked through the rest of the house, noting the modern kitchen of stainless steel and granite countertops, the spacious bedrooms upstairs, and the large tub in the master bath.

"The owners told me to check out the backyard," I said. "Supposed to be quite the view."

Roxanne heaved her slender body off of the couch and followed me out back. Opening the back door and stepping out, I was struck by what I saw.

The view was something else. There was a seemingly endless stretch of rolling hills before us, a long stream cutting and curving through them. To the right was a forested area that held promise of wonderful walks. The vista seemed to stretch on forever.

"It's beautiful," Roxanne said, looking out.

"Beats the hell out of two people in one cramped room," I said.

"No kidding."

We spent the rest of the evening getting settled and enjoying the space we had all to ourselves. After a few days in a cramped room together, we were both eager to stretch out and relax. Roxanne got in her pajamas and settled in for a night of TV, and I had another chat with Darla while enjoying a glass of wine on the back porch. Soon, it was time to turn in and prepare for another day on site.

The next day was more of the same. Roxanne worked diligently, being as attentive and careful of an assistant as I had hoped. She really seemed to be taking well to the work, and I was pleased that I'd managed to select such a great assistant. What's more, the show-offy attitude that she displayed during the semester seemed to vanish. Instead of a know-it-all girl desperately trying to impress the professor, she simply kept her head down and worked hard. She even managed to warm up to the rest of the crew.

As the last day of the first week drew to a close, I felt the strong urge to do something other than going back to the cottage and go over material. As Roxanne packed up for the day, a thought popped into mind.

"You feel up for going out tonight?"

Roxanne turned away from her notes and looked at me with surprised green eyes.

"Like, out-out?"

"Yeah," I said. "If you don't mind hanging out with your professor, that is."

"Well, as long as you walk ten feet behind so the other students don't make fun," she said with a smirk.

I smiled and shook my head at this.

"What'd you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well, there was a discothèque in town; I figured we could get some molly and dance the night away."

"You know," she said with a smile, "one of these days I'm going to get so used to your sarcasm that I'm going to not take you seriously when you really mean it."

"I kid, I kid," I said. "But there was actually a cool little pub in the center of town if you feel up for grabbing a bite. My treat."

"Well, if it's your treat," she said, flashing another lovely smile.

We finished packing up and climbed into the car that I'd rented a few days prior. We made the drive back into town, turning towards the city center rather than the long, winding path that would take us back to the cottage. After a time, we were parked at the town center, which was really nothing more than the intersection of the two largest streets, a smattering of buildings lining both roads.

"There it is," I said, pointing to a small building with windows illuminated by warm light, a wooden sign in Czech marking the name.

We entered and were quickly led to a small table near a fireplace. The restaurant was quaint and cozy, with warm lighting, a relaxed ambiance, and the gentle murmur of conversation dappling around us. When we sat down, the waitress, a young girl who looked about Roxanne's age, took our orders.

"This is nice," said Roxanne, settling into her seat.

"It is," I said. "We've been working so much, and I didn't want to blow through the entire summer without checking out some of the local fare."

The waitress brought us both tall glasses of beer, setting them down with a smile before walking off.

"You know," said Roxanne, "you're a lot different in person."

"'In person'?" I asked, sitting back, crossing my legs, and taking a sip of my beer. "As opposed to what?"

Roxanne playfully rolled her eyes. "I mean, not in class."

"Oh?" I asked. "How do you mean?"

"You have more of a sense of humor. And you're less uptight."

"'Uptight'?" I asked, a little surprised at this.

Roxanne quickly checked herself, not wanting to offend me.

"I mean, you just seemed to be really tough on me during the whole semester. Especially that final; I almost lost my scholarship because of that."

"But you retook it and excelled."

"Still," she said, bringing her beer to her lips and taking a sip, traces of foam remaining on her lips, "I just thought you hated me or something, like I was one of the students that you were trying to get rid of but never managed to."

I was a little surprised to hear this. Normally, I would never tell a student who I was pushing to excel that that is what I was doing, but I didn't want Roxanne to feel that I had some strange issue with her. So I came clean.

"I only was so hard on you because of your obvious potential. I could tell right away that you had it in you to be a star student. Students like you, however, sometimes need a little push to do their best."

"Really?" she asked, her lovely eyes wide in surprise. "But if I'm such a great student, then why did I bomb your final so hard?"

"You bombed the final because I gave you a test that I would normally reserve for graduate students. I wanted to see how you'd do when given a task that seemed impossible."

"But I got a ‘D'."

"You shouldn't have gotten a single question right. The fact that you knew anything on that test showed me the breadth of your understanding."

Roxanne allowed a moment for this answer to settle in her mind.

"Oh," she said. "Now I feel stupid."

"Don't," I said, leaning forward and, without thinking, placing my hand on hers. "There's a reason why you're the one I brought on this trip."

Without responding, Roxanne's eyes flicked down to my hand. Then, I realized what I was doing. Pulling my hand back, I cleared my throat, now feeling as though I may have overstepped some boundary. Before either of us could speak, however, the waitress arrived with our dishes, which were two plates of meat, potatoes, and gravy- simple but delicious.

As we started into our meals, I quickly changed the subject to something more lighthearted, the dinner passing pleasantly. But as the evening went on, all I could find myself thinking about was how Roxanne's hand felt, that soft skin on mine.

"I'm having a really nice time, Professor McCall," said Roxanne as we walked down the road back to the car.

"Please," I said, "call me Evan."