Page 59 of Olivia's Only Pretending
I couldn’t contain my smile as Chloe went on about specific details from the book that helped her understand key concepts from our class. This was exactly what I loved about teaching. We wound up talking for nearly forty minutes.
“I’m telling you, Dr. Rhodes,” Chloe said, swinging her backpack over her shoulder before she left. “You should include a book like this in your syllabus.”
“That’d be fun,” I said, half laughing, as Chloe walked out the door. I spun in my chair back toward my computer, but what Chloe said was stuck in my head like a new song.
Itwouldbe fun to include romance books set or even written during a specific time to a history class to make the details come alive and add depth and dimension to the facts and concepts. I imagined discussing the corresponding details like I’d just done with Chloe, her excitement palpable, with an entire class.
It felt like a dream.
There was another knock at my door. I glanced up to discover Victor leaning against the doorway, his dark hair swooped down over his eyes. His gray sweater was tight over his shoulders, and his hands were in his jeans pockets.
My eyebrows knit in confusion. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“The lecture is in half an hour, right?” He glanced down at his watch.
“Yeah, but …” I stood up from my desk, frazzled. I didn’t remember inviting Victor to the seminar. “I didn’t know you were coming to the lecture?”
“Well, when we decided I’d be your copilot to the Fall Seminar events, I went and screenshotted the schedule the school posted to their Instagram,” Victor said, still leaning against the doorframe.
“You follow the school on Instagram?”
“You don’t?”
I crossed my arms. “So, I have a date to the classics lecture by Dr. Shannon Hadaway?” Dr. Shannon Hadaway was notoriously long-winded and boring, some might say.
“You’ve got a date to anything you want, baby girl.” He walked into my office toward my desk.
I shook my head. “You know, my pretend boyfriend showing up to a dinner or a festival makes sense. My pretend boyfriend showing up to a lecture by a guest professor might look kind of weird.”
“Not that weird. Clingy, maybe? But I’m a clingy pretend boyfriend,” Victor said. “Plus, what if Ryan winds up sitting next to you or something and you need backup?”
“Doubtful.” I started packing up my tote before heading over to the auditorium for the lecture. “But you’re here already—might as well tag along.”
We wove across campus under the sprinkling rain and trees the shades of copper and amber. Victor carried my tote bag so I could hold my blazer over my head to protect myself from the downpour. As he told me about his workday, making me laugh, I accidentally bumped into his shoulder and caught the scent off his sweater. The smell of him mingled with the fresh rainfall. I felt giddy to have him back on campus with me. We didn’t have that much longer to this fall series.
My stomach sank at the thought that the school’s Fall Seminar was ending soon. This was one of the last events before we headed into finals and holidays.
I stole a glance at Victor as we walked into the auditorium. His eyes crinkled at something I’d said. I was amazed that something I’d dreaded—these fall events with my ex-boyfriend—had somehow become something I was sad to see end, like the days of a long-awaited vacation drawing closer to the flight back home. Closer to reality.
We slid into our seats, chatting as the auditorium slowly started to fill up, until one of the only seats left was the seat right in front of me. Ryan rushed in and plopped down before it was taken.
Victor bumped his arm into mine. “I told you,” he whispered, not above gloating.
I didn’t remember the back of Ryan’s head being so irritating, but it was now.Did he always use that much hair gel?I squinted.Did he color his hair?
He was hunched forward, his posture nervous.
“He keeps glancing back,” Victor whispered low, leaning toward me. “He knows you’re behind him with your hot young buck.”
I snorted. A couple of people, Ryan included, glanced my way. “Myhot young buck?” I whispered slowly, emphasizing each word.
“I know what I am, Liv.” Victor stretched his arms, folding them behind his head. His feet stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles.
“A hot young buck?” I pulled his arms down, setting them politely at his sides. We didn’t need to make a scene at this lecture.
“Yourhot young buck.” Victor’s voice was syrupy, warm.
I should hate that sentence, but something about Victor made everything adorable and, well, kind of hot.
