Page 65 of Damnation
“I think I should probably start; Professor Scott will probably kick my ass if I don’t,” he answers with a laugh.
“Oh, he definitely will. He’s a hard-ass,” I joke, trying and failing to hide my discomfort. I don’t understand how he can talk to me so easily after yesterday, when I basically shot him down again for a second time. He’s willing to take his lumps, I have to give him credit there. And he must have a heart of gold; it’s not every person who can keep their wounded pride in check like that. Before he can say anything else, however, I raise my hand to answer a question about the doctrine of eternal return, thereby ending my conversation with Logan.
At the end of class, when the room is nearly empty and I’m gathering the last of my books into my bag, Professor Scott waves to get my attention. “Miss Clark, can I have a few minutes of your time?”
“Of course.” I put my bag over my shoulder and join him at his desk. “What’s up?”
He puts some files in his briefcase, closes it, and looks up at me. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m very pleased with your academic performance. Perhaps you already know this but, I wanted to tell you anyway: You are the best student in this course. One of the brightest at this school, apparently.”
“Oh, thank you.” I tuck my hair behind my ears and try to tamp down the blush that is surely already coloring my cheeks.
“But as you know, not all students have such high-level abilities. There are those who need some extra help. So I wanted to propose something to you: Would you be willing to make yourself available for some tutoring sessions? You’re an attentive and patient girl, and it’s clear that you love philosophy. Obviously, this type of extracurricular activity is great for your CV, which never hurts if you are, for example, aiming for graduate school scholarships.”
Okay, I’m convinced.
“How many sessions would it involve? My current classes keep me pretty busy, plus I work in the evenings six days a week. Having it on my résumé would be nice, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to find the time to dedicate myself to tutoring the way I’d like.”
“The number of lessons will mainly depend on how quickly the student is able to pick up the basic concepts.”
“Sure, of course. Well…” I take a deep breath, putting on a smile. “I’d be happy to help someone out.”
“Excellent choice. I’m sure you won’t let me down. I’ll notify the designated student today.” He smiles back at me, and we walk out of the classroom together.
Sixteen
Before heading to the arena, I stop by the frat house to take a quick shower. I put on a pair of black leggings, my Converse, and Thomas’s black sweatshirt withGo Beaverson it. I could have worn my own, but stealing his sweatshirts has become a habit now, and I refuse to stop. Besides, he likes it. I scrape my hair into a high pony and head out.
“I’m sorry, what do you mean you aren’t coming to the game?” I chat on the phone with Alex as I walk down the path that leads to campus. As I do, I rummage through my bag, searching for some snacks to munch on, but apparently I haven’t stocked up lately.
“Well, my parents are going out to dinner tonight, and Stella’s going to be FaceTiming me soon. So I expect to be busy for a while.”
Oh, hold on a minute—is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Are you telling me you’re leaving me alone in that insane crowd to have FaceTime sex?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“God, Alex, this is high treason, you know that, right?”
Once I get inside the student union, I bask in the warmth of the common area. It’s November now, and the temperature change from outside to inside is marked.
“Hey, I know I’m bucking our tradition, but I promise to make it up to you with the best pistachio ice cream you’ve ever had,” he says,and I picture him giving me an angelic smile.
When I reach the first floor of the student union, I immediately head for the vending machines. I greet a passing girl from my English lit class with a smile. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. In fact, tell her hi from me. Wait. I mean…not while…oh, you know what I mean!” I can hear Alex laughing on the other end.
A beep tells me that a message from Tiffany has come in. I pull the phone away from ear for a moment and read the notification:Where are you? The game is about to start!Oh, no!
“Listen, Alex, I gotta let you go. I begged Tiffany to come with me to the game, and she’s waiting for me,” I tell him hastily.
“Cool. Keep me updated on the outcome. Actually, only do that if we win.”
“Will do. Have fun, you crazy kids…” I say suggestively.
“Count on it,” he answers mischievously before hanging up. I put my coins into the machine, punch in the code, and naturally the money-gobbler leaves me high and dry. I pound the glass again and again.
“Admit it, you hate me! Just give me my Reese’s, damn it!” Impatient, I give the machine a hateful glare before running to the cafeteria. I grab a bottle of water, a bag of pretzels, and a bag of chips from near the register. I pay, throw everything in my bag, and run like the wind down the long walkways, slaloming off other students on their way to the coliseum when…
“Vanessa!”
I cannot believe it. Again. I’m really making a habit of running into him like this.
