“I’m afraid not. The writing workshop is a required module.”
“Right. Of course. But if I could maybe transfer to a different section... Another teacher...”
She blinked in pretty confusion. “There is no other teacher. Not since Dr.Eastwick...”Died.Killed by a falling house.“Became unavailable.”
“I just don’t think we’re a good fit,” I said humbly.
“That’s unfortunate.” Glenda sighed. “You’re not the only one to express reservations. Maeve was concerned you might have...” She trailed off delicately.
“Have...?”
“Difficulties with, ah, faculty supervision.” She gave me an apologetic look. “Because of your experience in your previous program.”
Gray. She meant Gray. My pulse throbbed in my ears. Obviously, my secret was out. “But he wasn’t... I didn’t have any problems with my faculty advisor at KU.”
“No?”
“No.”Not really.
During our last meeting in his office, Barry, my advisor, hadbeen regretful. And deeply uncomfortable. After two years of me blowing him off, I hadn’t really expected anything more.“An allegation of sexual misconduct could ruin Gray’s reputation. It might even destroy his career,”my advisor had said.“Is that what you want?”
Of course I’d said no.
I’d still been reeling from that last horrible, tearful confrontation with Gray. The problem (that word again!) was that Gray had made it painfully clear that I’d already lost everything I’d ever wanted—his love, his approval, his respect. Based on his novel, I didn’t deserve them. I didn’t deserve him. A meeting with my advisor wasn’t going to fix that.
“I can’t discourage you from filing a complaint. Naturally, the university disapproves of any relationship where there’s a professional power differential,”Barry had said. He leaned forward as if to pat my hand and then drew back, clearly thinking better of initiating physical contact with a student.“But you’ve admitted the relationship was consensual. As long as Gray was never in a position to evaluate your work...”
“It’s notmywork I’m upset about,”I’d said. Twoyearswhen I should have been writing my thesis, wasted.“It’s his. Destiny Gayle.”
Barry had dropped his gaze, straightening a folder on his desk.“Unfortunately, whatever fictional liberties Gray may have taken with you—that is, with your character—er, with Destiny—are not within the scope of the faculty committee to address.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Glenda said, jerking me back to the present. She smiled, obviously pleased to have dispensed with the problem (aka, me). “Then, if that’s all...”
Wait. What?“What about Dr.Ward?”
Her smile froze slightly. “We have a limited number of faculty at the writing center. All of our students take one writing module with each of our two workshop instructors. So even if I accommodated your request, you would still have Maeve as aninstructor next term. I am very grateful to her for her willingness to step in for Dr.Eastwick at the last minute. As, I imagine, you must be.”
“But she doesn’t like me.”
“Oh, my dear. She doesn’t need to like you to supervise your work.” Glenda glanced at her phone, clearly ready to move on.
I knotted my hands together in my lap. Reeti said I was brave. Sam thought I was smart. It was stupid to keep ignoring the big Gray elephant in the room. Stupid and cowardly. “Right. The thing is, I think she’s judging me on the basis of Gray’s book.”
Glenda sighed. “You’re referring to Kettering’s novel.”
I nodded.
“I’m certain your instructors and examiners will consider your work entirely on its own merits. If, when the time comes to start work formally on your dissertation, you find one of them a better ‘fit,’ as you say, I’d encourage you to apply to them. In the meantime, Maeve is highly qualified. She’s quite capable of evaluating you apart from anything Kettering may have written.”
Have you read it?I was desperate to ask. But my courage didn’t extend that far.
Besides, Glenda was already gathering up her things, reaching for her phone, opening a drawer to retrieve her bag, every movement signaling that this conversation was over. “So, now that’s settled, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to pick up the girls from school. If there’s nothing else...?”
“Just... My housing? I went to the Student Union, like you said, but—”
Her phone buzzed. “Of course, of course. You might consider getting a roommate.” She glanced from the phone to me, her expression clearly saying,Go away now, please.“Excuse me. I have to take this.”
“Okay. Sure.” I stood, reluctantly. “Thank you for your...”
