I look around, careful to avoid eye contact with Beck. He’s one of the few students who haven’t shoved their shit into their bag and taken off. I’d hoped that by ignoring him, he would get the hint and not wait around. It’s not like we have anything to discuss.
We made out a week ago.
End of story.
Other than glancing at him when Dr. Hayes introduced me as the TA, I’ve kept my back firmly turned to him. Although that doesn’t mean I haven’t felt his gaze burning holes through me. It was all I could do not to squirm on my chair and peek over my shoulder.
Somehow, I resisted the urge.
Barely.
It’s shitty luck that I’ve ended up TA’ing for Beck’s class. What are the odds?
I’ve tried so hard not to think about the way he touched me at the club, but it’s always simmering in the back of my mind. I’m ashamed to admit how many self-love sessions I’ve had regarding that incident.
I just need to get through the school year and then we can go our separate ways. I won’t have to worry about running into him around every corner. When my heart clenches at the idea of never seeing Beck again, I sweep the feeling aside and ignore it.
I give Beck a bit of side-eye only to find him taking his sweet damn time packing up his stuff.
Ugh.
Can’t the guy do me a solid and move it along?
A nervous sweat breaks out across my brow as I try to delay the inevitable.
“Mia,” Dr. Hayes says, “do you have a moment?”
And just like that, a lifeline is thrown!
Thank you, Dr. Hayes!
With a rush of breath, I haul the strap of my bag onto my shoulder before racing to the podium.
First semester of freshman year, I ended up in Dr. Hayes’ Composition class. I’ve always enjoyed reading, but she helped me fall in love with the written word. Dr. H gave me the confidence I needed to let my creativity flow. After that semester, I registered for every course she offered at the university.
From beneath the thick fringe of my lashes, I watch as Beck and his friend—who I’m guessing is also a football player, because he’s got that whole doesn’t-have-a-neck thing going on—pack up their belongings before moving to the center aisle and heading toward the exit.
A relieved breath escapes from my lips when the door closes behind them. I was looking forward to working with Dr. Hayes this semester, now I’m dreading it.
The pretty blond professor snaps her briefcase shut before glancing at me. “Thank you again for taking this position at the last minute.”
The graduate student who was originally scheduled to assist her ended up taking the semester off, so she asked me to fill in. There’s really not much to the position. All I have to do is copy handouts and grade papers. If there are students who need extra attention, I can meet with them.
“It’s not a problem,” I tell her. “I’m happy to do it.”
At least an hour ago, I was.
Now? Not so much.
“How is the law school application process going?” she asks. “Did you get them finished up?”
I shake my head. It’s another thing on my to-do list. “Not yet. I’ll be working on them over the weekend.”
“If you want me to proofread anything, just text me. I’m more than happy to help.” She smiles. “I can’t believe you’ll be graduating this spring! It doesn’t seem like all that long ago you were in my freshman comp class.”
My lips lift at the memory. “Tell me about it. The last couple of years have flown by.”
“I’m so proud of you, Mia. You’ve done well at Wesley, and I have no doubt every law school you apply to will accept you.” She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “You’re going to do great things, I just know it.”
Her words of praise leave a thick lump of emotion sitting in the middle of my throat. “Thank you, I appreciate you saying that.”
“It’s the truth. You’ve worked hard and now it’s paying off.”
“I hope so.” There’s a fear in the back of my mind that I won’t get accepted to law school and I’ll have to figure out a plan B.
“Everything will work out.” She gives me a little wink. “We need more strong women in the world showing the boys how it’s done.”
I laugh and glance away. “I don’t know about that.” I’ve never considered myself a strong woman.
“With a great education, your options are limitless. Never sell yourself short.”
“Thanks, Dr. H.” Her words of encouragement mean a lot to me. She’s someone I’ve always looked up to as a role model.
“You know better than that,” she says with a mock frown. “When we’re alone, you can call me Rebecca.”
I nod.
“All right, we should get out of here. Unfortunately, I have an English department meeting to get to.” She rolls her eyes. “Hopefully there’s still coffee left upstairs. Lord knows I’m going to need it.”