Page 38 of Wish You Were Mine
“I was wondering if there are any other Intro to Chemistry classes open that would fit my schedule?” I said, forcing a polite smile. “I just had…a conflict come up that I didn’t expect.”
The conflict being my illicit, steamy make-out with the professor,I thought dryly.
The girl behind the desk nodded and started typing onto her computer. “Sure thing. Let me pull up your schedule along with the Intro to Chem sections. What’s your name?”
“Lucy Archibald.”
“And your student number?”
I listed off the nine-digit number, watching her fingers tap the keyboard as she typed it in.
“Okay, good news. We’ve got several sections with open seats,” the girl at the desk said. “Are there certain days or times that work better for you?”
I hesitated, glancing down at the planner where I’d scribbled my schedule. Technically, I’d prefer the exact same time slot I already had, since I’d spent so much time getting my schedule just right last semester.
But saying that out loud might come across as...suspicious. Like I had a problem with the professor.
Which, okay, I did—but not for the reasons anyone would assume.
I swallowed, forcing a polite smile. “Can I just see which classes you have open?”
No need to raise any red flags.
“Sure.” She gave me a quick smile and turned the screen slightly so I could see it better.
Rows of class times filled the monitor. I scanned the list, my stomach sinking with each line. Most of the available options overlapped with either my marketing courses or the hours I spent in the gym. One overlapped with the exact time I had a standing appointment with our team’s physical therapist.
Maybe I could swap out my Marketing Strategy class on Mondays and Wednesdays? It wasn’t ideal, but when I’d been registering, I was pretty sure I saw another section of thatcourse taught later in the day—possibly at the same time as my current chemistry class.
“Can you click into that Monday and Wednesday section at eight?” I asked, pointing toward the one that might work.
She did. I leaned in to read the professor’s name, and my stomach dropped.
Instructor: Park, Owen
Seriously?
Out ofallthe professors on this campus…
I bit my lip, trying to recover. “Um…could you scroll down to the later classes? Like afternoon?”
She nodded and kept scrolling, but my heart sank as I scanned each time block. The later options interfered with either my Advertising Psychology class, which only had a single section taught this semester, or with practice. And since Nora and I had worked hard to get our workout schedules lined up this year, screwing that up now—just because of a dumb kiss—felt like throwing away months of planning.
Even perfect routines can fall apart with one wrong step,my high school gymnastics coach’s voice echoed in my head.
I sighed when my watch buzzed, vibrating with the reminder I’d set for my next class.
“Could you print those options out for me?” I asked. “I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll look them over and see if I can figure something out later.”
“Of course.” She hit the print button and walked over to grab the pages.
I thanked her quickly, took the packet, and headed out of the building into the cold air, flipping through the options as I walked toward the business building. The wind caught one of the pages and nearly ripped it from my hands, but I grabbed it in time, skimming throughthe final page.
There was one section—Tuesdays and Thursdays at two. A tiny flare of hope sparked…until I remembered: my chem lab.
Thursdays from one to four. That time slot was already locked.
Perfect.
