Page 81 of The Love Interest
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Okay.
Listen—I know you’re gonna go back in and add more action later. But I think we could do without the whole “chains around his heart” and “you decided to break my heart” shit. Jack Irons doesn’t think about his heart unless he’s literally been shot or stabbed in it. Right? Fiona might own your cock now, butIstill have balls.
Other than that—it’s okay.
Exactly as mediocre as our fans expect it to be.
38
FIONA
Idon’t understand.
According to this transcript, I got an A in Professor Ford’s fiction workshop.
I had been dreading the moment I got my grade because I thought, surely, he would continue his campaign of overcompensation, especially now that we’re secretly doing whatever it is that we’re doing. I had mentally and emotionally prepared myself to accept that I would have to take a hit in this one course for the sake of whatever our relationship is. I would be mad at him, but I was going to channel the anger into sex stuff. And writing stuff.
Now I might have to channel my shock and glee into sex stuff, and I don’t know if that will be as much fun, butfuck yeah, Emmett gave me an A!
I send him a text. He’s been insisting that it’s fine for us to text each other if we delete our conversations. I had insisted we go back to sending anonymous letters back and forth until I realized I didn’t want to have to rely on the United States Postal Service to deliver a booty message over the holidays.
ME: An A? Is that right? Did you mean to give me an A?
EMMETT: Yes. You deserve it. You worked harder than anyone else in that class and turned in more pages. The quality of your writing is excellent.
EMMETT: I gave you that grade before the cabin, FYI. And I gave someone else an A +. FYI.
ME: I’m a little gobsmacked right now. But thank you. I might be mad that you didn’t give me an A + though.
EMMETT: Like I said, you deserve an A. And if you’re mad at me, then I deserve to benefit from that. See you tonight?
ME: Not unless I see you first.
ME: Nope. Not clever. Never mind. See you tonight!
I delete the conversation, but nothing can erase the smile on my face.
Except Veronica.
I get up from my bench and head for my class. I really hope she isn’t in it.
“Hey, Fiona!”
She has never said hi to me outside of class and never called me by my name before.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Great. Have a good break?”
“Yes. Very good. You?”
“The best… You on your way to Poetry?”
“I am, actually. Are you?”
“Yes.”
