Page 38 of Olivia's Only Pretending
“You’re my best friend, too.” I took a soft, warm bite of buttery scone. “You bring me shoes and scones. No better friend than you,” I said through a mouthful.
It was the first day of October, and the school was kicking it off with a big fall festival. They were setting up booths and tables as I walked down the campus sidewalk under a heavy, gray sky. The air smelled of wet leaves.
I made it into the office to drop off my bags before my first class of the day, Introduction to Roman History.
“Will we be seeing Victor this afternoon?” Sonny, the department secretary, raised a curious brow as I attempted to rush by her desk.
I’d told Victor he didn’t have to try and fit this into his busy day. I could handle this small festival myself. Honestly, I was realizing I could handle the presence of Ryan way easier than I’d expected. But Victor had firmly told me,I’ll be there.
“Yeah, he’ll be here.” I adjusted my bag strap.
“He sure was a hoot at the dinner last night.” She leaned back in her leather desk chair until it creaked. “I like him.”
“I like him, too.”
“He likes you, but you know that, right?” she said, her expression serious. But then her voice softened in a way that she reserved for moments when she was imparting random bouts of wisdom. “You don’t always get one that sweet on you.”
“I don’t know. It’s pretty casual.” My bag was growing heavy on my shoulder.
“You sure about that? The way he looked at you didn’t seem all that casual.” She crossed her arms. “The man followed you around like a lovesick puppy.”
“Early days and all,” I muttered, glancing toward my office door. “We were, you know, friends first. We’re taking it slow.”
“Well, I’m just going to say it again: you don’t always get one as crazy about you as he seems to be. Not everyone has it in ’em to love like that.”
I chuckled, because whatever façade we’d put on last night, Victordoeslove well, even if it’s just how he loves his best friends or his family. “You’re right. He’s pretty special.”
Sonny hummed. “I like him,” she said again as I hurried out of the office.
I shook my head.The Victor Effect.
Iwas typing at my computer, catching up on emails, when a light tap on my door caught my attention. I glanced at the doorway to find Dean Oates popping her head into my office, short dark hair curling to her chin.
“Hi, Dr. Rhodes.”
“Come in.” I waved her inside.
“How’re you today?” she asked as she took a seat across from my desk.
“I’m doing well. Yourself?”
“Well, I’d intended to talk with you more at the party, but the night got away from me. I know you’re working on pitching your own syllabus for the spring semester. I wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling about that. I’m available if you want to bounce any ideas off me.” She smiled encouragingly.
I crossed my legs behind my desk. “Well …” I had several ideas. Questions brimmed at the top of my mind. I loved Dean Oates and valued her input. “I have a few ideas I’m sifting through.”
“Anything in particular?”
I’d recently read about courses being offered that used elements of popular culture to enhance a course or even use it as a means to study a specific topic. I opened my mouth to ask her, but then, I thought,who am I to start something like that here?
I’m one of the youngest professors. This is my first time putting together my own course. People are expecting me to do it a certain way.
I’d sound silly.
So, I bit my tongue. “Not yet,” I said, giving a halfhearted half smile.
“You know, I have a few ideas I can float by you,” Dr. Oates said. She shared a few courses she knew the department had been considering implementing, even the course Dr. Lewis was pushing for me to take on.
These ideas were great, although not at all what I’d been envisioning. It was so kind of her to take the time to share them with me, so I nodded along. Though everything she said only confirmed my suspicion that there was definitely a direction the department was expecting me to take. Any fresh or trendy class ideas might take people aback.
