“No, I don’t mean have sex right now. I’ve got a meeting I need to get to. But yeah. Let’s do this sex-for-extra-credit thing. Why the hell not? Wear something to the next class to let me know that you’re actually serious about doing this.”
The words flowed out of my mouth easily, as though this were something I was used to doing. Had done before. When in reality, the last time I’d gotten laid was a few months ago, when I’d agreed to meet up with Colette. Note to self: don’t meet up with ex-girlfriends you have no interest in
getting back together with, especially if there is alcohol involved.
“What . . . what do you mean?” Tessa asked nervously.
“Oh, you’ll figure it out.” I waved my hand as though I was dismissing her, which, I supposed, I was. I did have that fucking meeting to get to, after all, and Shannon would give me a world of shit if I was late.
“Um, okay,” Tessa said. “Sure, I can do that.”
She left, and I got up to go to the meeting. I was entering dangerous territory here, I knew that, but I felt . . . alive. And I wasn’t just talking about my dick. Maybe it sounded pathetic, but this was the most exciting thing that had happened to me since I’d left the magazine, and the fact was, nothing had even happened yet. But there was the anticipation of doing something new, something I hadn’t done before—getting involved with a student. There would probably be all sorts of hell to pay if we were ever found out, but I didn’t care about that. I was feeling better than I had in a while. While I couldn’t say that my life suddenly felt as though it were imbued with new purpose, necessarily, there was at least something happening that I could look forward to. It made me feel like skipping through the campus. Which I didn’t, of course.
The meeting was being held in the humanities building, in Baker Hall, and I knew that I had a smile on my face as I walked into the room and took my place at the long table, right next to Carla.
“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Carla said.
“Things are fine,” I replied. “Can’t say I’m too excited about this meeting, though.”
“Does that mean you know what it’s about?”
“No, but I doubt it’s going to be anything that tantalizing.”
“Actually, it is.”
I turned as Shannon walked into the room. She was a statuesque blonde who was rumored to be a lesbian, though whether that was based on any actual evidence or if it was just because her whole persona sort of screamed “man-hater,” I wasn’t sure.
“Why don’t we all have a seat,” Shannon said, as she took a seat at the head of the table.
“Thanks for rescheduling the meeting,” I said.
“It seemed that several people had a conflict of interest with Friday evening,” she said. “Though Leo, I don’t recall getting your RSVP.”
“I did remind him,” Carla said.
“Anyway. I wanted to get the department together because we’re going to get the Benton Daily Journal up and running again.” She looked at me. “That was the college’s newspaper, in case you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t realize the college had a newspaper.”
“Well, we did, for years, and then after one of the professors who oversaw most of it retired, it sort of fell to the wayside. We’d like to change that, though, especially because the journalism program has seen a surge in enrollment. Providing an avenue for students to write, edit, and publish articles will be an invaluable resource. I am prepared to oversee the project, but I do expect some sort of commitment from everyone else, too.”
“What sort of commitment are you talking about?” Carla asked. She had a worried look on her face, which surprised me because this seemed like the sort of thing she’d be all over.
“It won’t be a huge time investment,” Shannon said. “Not unless you want it to be. Ideally, the students will take over many of the responsibilities. But I’d like the faculty to be there to provide guidance when needed. I’ll need someone to volunteer to act as editor-in-chief, at least for the time being. I expect that your students will be excited to hear about this, and will be eager to take part in it. Anyone is invited to submit work, though I suspect it’s going to be the English and journalism departments that will show the most interest. But, say, Carla—I know Seth previously took a journalism course. I’d hope that if he felt he had something worthy to contribute to the paper, he would do so, and perhaps even talk to his teammates about contributing something as well. Do you think that’s something you’d be willing to do, Carla? Act as our editor-in-chief until we’ve got a couple issues under our belt?”
Carla hesitated, which surprised me. Usually she was such a brown-noser.
“I’ve got an awful lot on my plate at the moment,” she said slowly. “I could do something but I don’t know if I can commit to—”
Shannon looked at me. “Why don’t you help, Leo?” she said. “You and Carla will have the final decision on what articles are published in this first issue.”
“Uh sure,” I said. “But can I just say I don’t necessarily see getting the first issue out by the end of this semester as completely feasible? I mean, once the thing’s going, it should run like clockwork, but getting it started again is going to take longer. I’m just not sure I see it happening by the end of this semester. Next semester, maybe.”
Shannon raised an eyebrow. “Are you not up to the challenge?”
“I’m not saying that at all. But I think it could require a little more time and planning than we’ve got right now if you want to have this done by the end of the semester.”
“I have all the faith in you and Carla,” Shannon said. “And don’t hesitate to ask your TA’s for assistance if you need it. That’s what they’re there for. Though I certainly want you and Carla to be the ones in charge of this for right now. Does that sound okay to you, Carla?”