Page 12 of Ward Willing
Hence why I’d come to Lena’s office in a panic.
The problem was that I’d come into college with enough prerequisites to skip most of the required classes, as well as a year’s worth of units. But because Crestwood required a certain number of units taken at their university to graduate, I need as many filler units as I can get.
Lena’s clicking keyboard stirs me from my stupor. “I checked the employee handbook, and as long as he doesn’t grade your work, there’s nothing that says living with your professor is a conflict of interest,” Lena says matter-of-factly. “You wouldn’t be breaking any rules by taking Professor Ravage’s class.”
Fuck.
The odds are stacked against me.
It makes the most sense to take Liam’s class because the hours for the two other classes available would only make my weeks harder and longer.
And again… it would be nice to take a classfor meinstead of what will get me into the best law school.
“Fine,” I sigh, taking my schedule back and standing. “I better get going so I can warn him.”
Lena gives me a reassuring smile. “See you in January, Ms. Arma.”
I grumble out a goodbye and adjust my leather backpack as I walk through campus.
Crestwood University is a small, private university set in the suburbs of Crestwood, California—a small, beachside town smack dab in the middle of Los Angeles and Orange county. I grew up in Crestwood, but when my parents died, I’d become attached to my Northern California boarding school. Though I missed that area, Crestwood would always be home.
Lena mentioned that Liam would have to find someone else to grade my work, which is fine. It makes me think of the fact that heinsistedI live with him for the duration of my undergrad, and as I pass the student dorms on my way to class, it makes me wonder what my life would look like if I lived on campus instead. My Aunt Carolina also offered her guest house to me, but she lives in Malibu, and it’s too much of a commute.
It’s definitely easier living with Liam, especially since he sometimes drives me to campus. I’ve come to appreciate the home-cooked meals, the messy kitchen table, and the overall comfortableness of living with my father’s best friend. When I moved in last June after graduating high school, Liam had reneged on his “no internet in the house” rule.
I’m not sure how he survived without it for so long.
He still refuses to use a computer to write, preferring old-school legal pads and a typewriter.
Plus, Crestwood University has a limited number of dormitories, and winning the lottery to live in one wasalmostas hard as the actual lottery.
I walk to The Café and grab a caramel latte and a cookie on the way to Liam’s class. As I head toward the building where the class is held, I realize I’m not sure what the class is called. Pulling the sheet of paper with my schedule out of the pocket of my jeans, I glance down at the information on the pertinent column.
Eco-Poetry: Nature and Environmental Themes in Verse
Prof. Liam Ravage, PhD
Tu, Thur (10:15-11:45am)
Sierra Building, Room 118
I have to contain my smirk.Eco-Poetry?Liam had found a knack for combining his two favorite things: being outdoors and writing.
Poetry might be fun, too, I think. I have always wanted to take a writing class.
I cross the quad and enter the Sierra building. Because Crestwood University is over a hundred years old, the building is gorgeous. It’s red brick and retrofitted, of course, to account for earthquakes. It’s a quaint campus, and I’ve been enjoying my time here. Checking the time on my watch, I realize I only have a minute before the class starts. As I quicken my pace, my stomach flutters with nerves.
Fortunately for me, Liam never brought up that night in Catalina, and neither had I. Truth be told, I’m not sure either of us remembered what exactly happened except for bits and pieces. Certain things stand out, but…
We were drunk and high.
It was a mistake.
It never happened.
Pushing the auditorium door open, my eyes flick to the front of the class. It’s empty. Which means he isn’t here yet.
Whichalsomeans I might be able to hide out in the back of the class for today—at least.
