Page 10 of The Wallflower and the Running Back

“Same place, same time?”

I nod as I take a step backward, pulling my study notes from my pocket and rolling them tight. I do it to show her I plan to take good care of them, not that forming them into a paper telescope is much better than leaving them in my pocket. Once my back is to her, I squeeze my eyes shut and scold myself for acting like a fool. I don’t know why I’m so eager to impress her. Maybe I simply don’t want her to consider me a massive fuckup.

“Hey, Logan?”

I spin on my heels at the sound of my name, biting my lip and raising a brow.

“Yeah?” Part of me is braced for a joke at my expense. I left her with plenty of material.

“I would never need tutoring for football. I’d pretty much ace everything.” She shrugs and bunches her lips. It’s that cocky sort of smug look one gets after they’ve thrown down a royal flush.

“Is that right, Rachel?” I’m careful not to let another Shortcake slip out, and I think she notices. Her eyes flicker and her smirk evens out as she nods.

“Perhaps I’ll teach you other things then.” This time, I’m the one throwing down pocket aces. And she’s the one whose cheeks are bright red.

“I’ll see you Wednesday,” I say, turning around and slapping my palm with my paper tube of notes, and feeling like a smooth motherfucker.

5/

rachel

I should be working on a new hypothesis for my final experiment, given that my last several attempts proved to be negative and, thus, boring. I know that a failed hypothesis is a complete experiment, but the chemistry majors who come out of Tiff with interesting findings end up with much better internships and placements for grad school. I want one of those cool findings. That means I should probably be searching for a cooler topic than color reactions as a result of magnesium and random secondary elements.

Instead, I’m making flash cards. For basic chemistry. For a guy I had zero interest in helping twelve hours ago but now . . . I don’t know. I want him to do well. And maybe I’m a bit grateful for how he handled Dalton on my behalf.

It doesn’t hurt that his biceps completely fill his T-shirt sleeves.

I’m on the floor amid piles of note cards when my new roommate, Claire, enters. She’s a biology major, and was the only single on the honors track in need of a roommate. She also never liked Stella, which given the frame of mind I was in at the housing office a few weeks ago, was a huge plus for me. We get along fine, which will do, well, just fine. I’m done forming bestie friendships.

“Mail for you,” Claire says, dropping a light purple envelope into my lap. I recognize the abroad program logo near the return address and stare at it without blinking.

“Something wrong?” my roommate asks as she flops onto her bed and tears into a padded envelope. She jerks out a small package of what appears to be saltwater taffy and wastes no time ripping it open and popping a piece into her mouth. She glances my way and holds out the bag.

“Want one?” Her words are mangled by the tacky bright yellow candy now stuck to her teeth, which she’s picking at with her index finger.

I shake my head and look back down to my envelope, turning it over a few times in my lap.

“It’s probably a letter from the abroad program telling me I somehow owe them money for not going this semester,” I say. Claire punches out a laugh, which also somehow is muffled by the candy glued to her teeth.

“Maybe they found extra scholarships.” Her positivity would be cute if it didn’t remind me of Stella’s rosy look on life.

I poke my finger into the envelope’s side and tear across the top. It’s a single piece of paper, and from a quick glance, I don’t get a sense that this will be good news.

Dear past applicant.

(Already starting off with a bang.)

We regret to inform you that the Midwest Region Studies Abroad program is discontinuing the scholarship application process due to budget cuts. Please do not let this deter you from applying for the spring semester. The portal opens to applicants on September 28th. While our scholarship program is no longer available, we do offer many other financial aid resources, including outside funding resources and loan options. Remember, a semester spent abroad is priceless.

Sincerely,

Patricia Sewald

Executive Director

“You look like you want to throw up,” Claire says.

Probably because I do. My mouth hangs open as I drop the letter into my lap. My last shred of hope just went up in smoke. I glance up as Claire flips onto her stomach, her black bobbed hair swinging around to cup her chin. Again, she holds out the bag of taffy.

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