I sighed. “Please. It’ll make me feel better to check out this bloke and to know you’re surrounded by friends. Safe.”
“Thorne, you do realize I’ve been on many dates?”
I smirked at her use of my surname. “Yes, Sawyer, I do. But that was before you knew me and I’m overprotective of my friends.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks for coffee.” And then she was inside, the heavy entrance door shutting behind her.
A pang of something weird spread across my chest.
I didn’t like the feeling.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I quickly sent Lily a text.
Lunch. Teviot. Thursday. You free?
I turned and started walking back toward home.
A minute later, my phone beeped.
I can do 1 p.m.
A massive grin split my face as I quickly texted back.
See you then.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LILY
For some reason, I woke up feeling a wee bit overwhelmed about trying to juggle my coursework with the podcast. However, I had a meeting with my advisor, Anna, a research grad student and tutor who was my advisor in third year too. On top of my dissertation, I had a general paper to write, a tutorial course, and then I had to select three classes over the course of the two semesters. I decided to take two classes this semester, leaving me extra time in the second semester for my dissertation. My plan was also to do most of my interviews for the dissertation this semester as well. Anna thought in general it was a good plan but told me to consider spreading out some of the interviews so my first semester wasn’t so top heavy.
I came out of the meeting feeling better but also worse because I had a nagging feeling I needed to chat with the girls about giving more airtime to January and Aiysha this year than we’d originally planned. The idea of trying to date on top of all this work made my head spin.
After my meeting, I had a seminar—Emotions: Social and Neuroscience Perspectives.
Since the course was smaller than previous years, the lecture was held in a classroom instead of a hall. I spotted an acquaintance from a class last year and she waved me over. Her name was Esme and she was French. I was always so impressed by students who chose to study in a foreign country. We shared some pleasantries and then the professor and his TA walked into the room, hushing the small group of students. It felt more like a tutorial than a seminar.
“Good morning. We have two new students this week who are a little late to the game, so a quick reintroduction. I’m Professor Andrews. My TA, Penny.” He gestured to the young woman who waved and took a seat at the front of the class. Professor Andrews had taught my Psychology 2B class in second year, so I’d been happy to see his name on the course since I was already familiar with his teaching style. “Welcome to Emotions: Social and Neuroscience Perspectives. A few admin pieces first. There is a tutorial for this course and you all should have your tutorial groups and times. Find them on the school hub. There is a midterm paper and a final paper. Above and beyond that, I love a quiz, so expect one at the end of every seminar. Moreover, I expect everyone to get involved in discussions during our seminars and tutorials. Consider it part of your grade. No hiding behind iPads.”
He eyed each and every one of us like he’d done last week when he said this, and I did my best not to look away when his gaze caught mine. “Now. Let’s get to it. Over the next few weeks, this course should hopefully provide you with an understanding of the social functions of emotions.” He turned to write the latter on the whiteboard in front of him. “The influence of culture on emotion …”
I opened my iPad as I listened and watched him draw out the list of topics we’d cover. When he asked questions, I raised my hand to answer along with most people in the seminar.Professor Andrews looked pleased and when he called on me and approved of my response, I got a buzz from it. What could I say? I was a bit of swot, really.
As we packed up at the end of the seminar, Esme turned to me. “Do you have a class next?” she asked in her musical accent.
“No, I have work.” The podcast counted as work to me since it took up so much headspace and I made wage from the ad money. “You?”
“Library. I’ll see you next week.”
I was heading out of the building toward my bike when I heard, “Lily, right?”
Turning around, I searched the main reception and locked eyes with a guy who was staring right at me. Familiarity hit and I racked my brain for his name. “Zac?”
He grinned as he approached. “Yes, Zac. How are you?”
I remembered Zac from the night Sebastian approached me at the bar. After I’d told him to fuck off, Zac apologized to Sierra and then me before leaving. Sierra had told me Zac was Harry and Sebastian’s roommate. He wasn’t involved in the podcast drama, but he knew Sierra via Harry via Olly.
“I’m good. How are you?” I asked politely.
