Page 34 of Fall From Grace
“Happy Friday,” Logan says lamely as he takes the seat beside mine. Just like always, his right leg invades my personal space, practically leaning against my left, and no matter how many times I move my left leg away, his right always seems to follow. It’s annoying. “You doing anything fun tonight? Braving another party?”
I don’t know if he’s asking me this to try to see me tonight, or if he’s asking me that to avoid me tonight. He’s so hot and cold, standoffish while also tempting, I don’t know what to think when it comes to him.
“No,” I say, slow in meeting his emerald stare, though I don’t hold it for long. I can’t. Staring into those eyes throws me back in time, forces me to remember what we did and how much I both enjoyed it and regretted it afterward.
“No?”
“No,” I say again in a huff. “I’m staying in tonight. Finding a movie to watch or something.”
“What movie?” he asks, his tone a bit more flirty than I’d like. “Maybe I want to see it, too.” Somehow, when he says that, I have the feeling he’s not talking about the movie. He’s talking about me.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what? I’m only making conversation. Somebody’s grouchy today—”
With a shake of my head, I say, “I’m not grouchy. You’re just…” Hmm. I actually don’t know how to finish that without sounding mean, and if I’ve learned anything when it comes to him, he only finds me entertaining when I get snippy with him. Again, he’s annoying.
“I’m so amazing you can’t even describe me.” The grin he shoots my way has the power to knock a girl off her feet, so it’s a good thing I’m already seated. That, and I like to think I’m immune to grins like that. “Come on. I can come over. I can bring dinner with me. We can make popcorn, get cozy underneath a blanket, and watch whatever movie you want.”
“Sounds like a date,” I mutter.
“Nope. Not a date. Just two people who can barely stand each other hanging out. Where’d you get the date idea? Get your mind out of the gutter, nerd.”
I roll my eyes. There’s the Logan I know.
Before he can say anything else, Professor Scott appears, and I let my gaze wander over to him, watching as he lifts his bag’s strap over his head and sets it down beside the podium. His tall frame kneels as he grabs a stack of papers out of it, which he then brings to the podium. He must feel my eyes on him, because he glances at me.
Not wanting to be obvious, I shift my gaze away from him and fight the blush that threatens to creep up my cheeks. All that talk of a cute professor from Sloane… maybe Logan was right and my mind is in the gutter.
Logan is busy saying something, still trying to get us to hang out tonight I think, but Professor Scott says my name and gestures for me to go over to him. Though I have zero idea what he wants, I’ll take it as long as it gets me away from the guy beside me who just can’t take a hint.
I slip out of my seat and approach the podium, where Professor Scott stands with a gentle smile on his face. “Hi,” I say, hating how awkward I sound.
He flashes me a perfect grin and echoes, “Hi. I wanted to speak with you, for a while, actually. The surprise quiz last class reminded me—or, rather, your score did.”
The moment he says that, I suck in a hard breath. “Did I fail?” It’s the first thing that comes to my mind; when it comes to grades, it’s always the first thing that comes to my mind. My parents didn’t raise me to fail, so anything less than a perfect score just wasn’t good enough.
“No, no, no,” Professor Scott quickly says. “The opposite.” As the relief washes over me, he must notice, because he chuckles softly. “Passing a ten-question quiz means that much to you?”
Passing everything does. The number of questions on the quiz or test doesn’t matter, but I don’t tell him that. I only shrug, not knowing how to respond.
“Your score reminded me that I wanted to speak with you,” he goes on. “I haven’t updated the scores in the system yet, but you answered all ten correctly. Call me crazy, but I think you might be the only person in this class who’s doing the assigned reading.”
I don’t see how a perfect ten out of ten could make him want to talk to me, unless it’s to tell me how grateful he is that I’m doing the reading. I mean, why wouldn’t I? I bought the textbooks. Why would I buy the textbooks and not use them?
“The pre-test we did the first day,” he says, pausing—though I don’t know why. I have no idea where he’s going with this, but I’m thankful this little chat is getting me away from Logan for a few minutes. “You answered every question right on that, too.”
“Oh,” I say, honestly a bit shocked. “Cool.” I try to sound like I don’t really care, but I fail.
Professor Scott gives me a million-dollar smile. “It is very cool. I’ve been doing this for a few years now, and I can tell you with certainty that nobody has ever answered every single question right on the pre-test. Not even close.”
My mind races. “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—”
“No, no,” he quickly assures me. “I know you didn’t. You’re in the front row. I would’ve noticed if you were searching forthings on your phone. This is an intro class. You’ve never taken a psychology class before?”
I shake my head. “I did skim the textbooks after I got them.”
The look he gives me is one I can’t read. I can’t tell if I stunned him by saying that or if he just doesn’t believe me.
