We spent the majority of class going over the reading they’d done, and I let Kristin lead the discussion, which we hadn’t discussed earlier, but I knew she liked to and this freed me up to pretend that I wasn’t looking over in Tessa’s direction. I noticed, though, that every other guy in the classroom was, too, some more than others. Tessa appeared to be trying to focus on whatever it was that Kristin was saying, but whenever she raised her hand to add something to the discussion, Kristin passed over her and called on someone else.
The third time this happened, Tessa put her hand down and looked right at me. I raised my eyebrows and gave her a tiny smile, but I didn’t do anything to stop Kristin. Kristin was in the zone now, anyway, and interrupting her would be akin to a scuba diver surfacing too quickly. If I were to interrupt this discussion she had going about the ethical responsibility a journalist had to her sources, she’d probably have some sort of breakdown, right there in the middle of class. But I let my gaze linger on Tessa while she watched me, just to let her know that I both approved and appreciated her choice of clothing.
At the end of class, Kristin assigned the next chapter in the textbook for homework, as well as a critical analysis of a feature article about the importance of the free lunch program in middle schools. I didn’t need to read the article to know that the importance of any school free lunch program is the fact that it is often the only meal that impoverished children can count on, and taking it away meant there were some that might go a whole day without an actual meal, whether it was because there was no money to afford food at home or the house was run by a single parent who was too busy out making minimum wage to be able to make sure the children ate anything more than peanut butter and toast.
I grab
bed a stack of the photocopies, though, and stood up, handing them out. When Kristin shot me a quizzical look, I shrugged it off.
“Just trying to feel useful,” I said.
She smiled, obviously thinking that I was giving her a compliment because she’d just conducted class so well. I handed copies of the stapled article to each student, glad that Tessa was sitting at the far end of the row, meaning I would get to her last. I handed a copy to her friend Lindsey, who was giving me the eyes, and then I pretended several of the articles were stuck together, buying me a little time, before I finally detached one and gave it to Tessa. Our fingertips brushed.
“Wait 10 minutes and then come to my office,” I said in a low voice. I wasn’t sure if she’d even heard me, but then she nodded. She started to pack up her stuff and follow the rest of the students out of the classroom.
“So, how’d I do?” Kristin asked. “I think it went pretty well,” she said before I could respond. “I’d say most of them actually did the reading. Which is a pleasant surprise.”
“You’re right,” I said. She looked pleased that I was agreeing with her. “That whole class was one big pleasant surprise.”
9.
Tessa
After class, I packed up my stuff and acted as if I was going to leave. Instead, though, I hung out in the small lobby near the entrance. I could feel people’s eyes on me as they walked past, though I tried to ignore it. I pulled out my textbook and opened it randomly to a page, starting to read, even though I wasn’t really able to focus on what the words were saying. I just wanted to do something so it would look like I was busy.
I heard someone say my name.
I looked up. It was Nick, and he was with his best friend, Seth, who was one of his teammates. They were both tall, fit, and good-looking, and they were both walking toward me.
“Tessa,” Nick said. He had the same expression on his face that he had when we first started hanging out. “I thought that was you. I like the outfit. A special occasion?”
“Um . . .” I wracked my brain, trying to think of some sort of witty response. “Laundry day,” was the best I could come up with.
Nick nodded. “It should be laundry day more often. How’ve you been?”
“I’m okay.”
“Great. Glad to hear it. What are you up to right now?”
“Oh, um, I’m just . . . just waiting for someone.”
“Yeah?
“Yeah.”
“Cause I was thinking maybe—”
“Come on, man,” Seth interrupted, laughing. “Don’t get started on that shit. We’ve got to get to class. You know I can’t flunk out of Professor Murphy’s class, and you know she’ll dock you for being late. Get your mind outta the gutter and let’s go.” He looked at me. “Not that I’m trying to ruin anyone’s plans or anything, but you understand, right?”
“Of course,” I said, feeling my face flush. I pulled my phone out of my purse and looked at it. Ten minutes was almost up. “As a matter of fact, I have to get going, too. Nice to see you guys.”
I stuffed my book back into my backpack and hurried off, not needing to turn to look to know that Nick was watching me as I went. I did feel a little surge of adrenaline shoot through me, just knowing that he was watching me, that what I was wearing today had managed to catch his eye. I made a note to tell Lindsey when I saw her later.
I went into his office, trying not to feel nervous. I tried to replay what Lindsey had said to me, like a mantra, in my head. You’re doing this for you. This is empowering.
But there was a part of me that was saying no self-respecting woman would do a thing like this, and that I certainly wouldn’t be in this situation if I didn’t need a better grade. Stop it. I pushed the thought out of my mind.
“That’s quite the outfit,” he said slowly, his eyes moving up and down my body. But instead of just standing there with my gaze down like I was on display for his viewing pleasure only, I returned the look, taking in his square cut jaw, his long, straight nose, the bright blue eyes. Underneath his clothes, you could tell he had the sort of body that was home to supple, smooth muscles that would feel like silk underneath your fingertips. He was the sort of guy that had probably never been turned down by a girl before, and the thought that he wanted to do this with me made my whole body feel hypersensitive.