Page 26 of The Surprise Play
And I keep doing that all freaking weekend.
The Nolan U Cougars won their semifinal game, so the school was in party mode on Friday night… and Saturday night. The common room at the end of the hall thumped with music. Laughter and cheerfully raised voices kept me awake as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I could have gone down and checked it out. Everyone was invited. But just the thought of that sent a cold chill sweeping through me. Parties like that are a minefield, a danger zone. Definitely not the place for me.
I can only imagine what the team got up to. Images of beer and sinfully good-looking people dancing and sharing drunken kisses—and probably more—have been filling my brain all weekend. Heat has been flushing through me followed by spine-shaking shudders. Thosekinds of things are so not my scene. But Wily will no doubt have been in the thick of it, celebrating with the best of them.
And what have I been doing?
Hiding out in my room and trying to find the courage to follow through on an idea I just can’t let go.
So, come Monday, after my morning walk and coffee, I collect my stuff and head for Professor Pilscher’s office. Thankfully he’s there, so I don’t have a chance to lose my nerve when he replies, “Enter,” after my knock.
Easing the door open, I shuffle inside and force a smile. “Good morning, Professor Pilscher.”
“Ah, Elizabeth Satchwell. How are you?”
I let out a soft, surprised laugh. I can’t believe he remembers my name! I had him for one semester last year. Although, I’m grateful I left an impression, because I’m about to ask a really big favor.
“I’m good, sir.” I swallow and shuffle a little closer to his desk.
He looks up, all expectant and curious. “What can I do for you today?”
“Well, um…”
“You’re not taking any literature classes this semester, are you?”
“No, I finished up Comparative Literature just before the winter break.”
“And I’m sure you did very well.” He smiles, and I can’t help blushing.
I nod and softly murmur, “A+.”
“No surprises there.”
I smile at his compliment, brushing it off with a small flick of my hand before playing with my bottom lip.
“So… what is it you need from me, then?”
“Well, sir, um… last semester, you had Wily Wilson in your class.”
The man sits back with a sigh, his eyes rolling.
I bite my lips together, nerves rocketing through me as I force myself to continue. “The thing is, he told me that his final assignment is ungradable, and I was?—”
“He cheated. He used AI and obviously hadn’t read the book. I refuse to grade utter nonsense.”
“I understand that, sir. And you shouldn’t have to,” I agree. “But see, I was supposed to help him with that assignment. I’m his new tutor, and with the Christmas break and everything, I ran out of time to assist him.”
Professor Pilscher’s eyes narrow. “Do you mean you ran out of time to do the work for him?”
My eyes bulge. “No, sir. I would never do that. I’m not that kind of tutor. I believe strongly that people need to learn and produce their own work. I just didn’t have the time I wanted to be able to assist him properly, and he’d left it so late that I just… I hung him out to dry.” I wince.
The English professor’s expression is deadpan as he threads his fingers together. “That ishisproblem, not yours. He should have been more organized.”
“Yes, but he lost his previous tutor and was struggling to find a new one, and I could have helped him, you know? I could have made the time, but I… I didn’t. And I’m feeling kind of bad about that.”
Clearing his throat, Professor Pilscher taps his hands lightly on his desk. “So, what are you wanting from me?”
“An extension?” My face crumples, my tone going wispy as I ask the impossible.
