Jett sat at the end with his left leg stretched out in front of him. His left arm was draped casually along his desk, and his right arm rested loosely across his armrest. His head was turned my way, and when our eyes met, that smug smirk slowly tipped his mouth upward. He looked . . . triumphant. I didn’t know why that was the word that I associated with him, but it was. Suddenly, it was replaced by one of coldness as his eyes flicked over me before he faced the front of the lecture room.
“Bitch,” the guy whispered behind me as the professor once again resumed her lecture.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled back.
I felt the kick at the back of my chair, but with my hand clutching my pen so tightly and the other one gripping my desk, I knew better than to turn around.
“Ignore it.”
Turning my head slightly, I looked at the guy beside me. “It’ll be over soon.” He must have known I wasn’t following. “The Santos will have someone new to torture, and you’ll be forgotten.” His look of pity made me feel worse than anything the douchebag had said behind me.
With a brief smile at him for being decent, I tried my best to focus back on the lecture. But all I could think about was the horrible rumors and assumptions that people were making about me. Realizing what I had been putting off, I knew I needed to talk to Jett, and then this would be over. I was sure of it.
As the lecture came to a close, the professor asked me to stay behind. It wasn’t completely unexpected. I idled at her desk while she spoke briefly to her TA, and on his way out, I once again made eye contact with Jett. His trademark smirk made me want to punch him, and I hastily looked at my feet to break eye contact.
“So, again I find myself with a disrupted class,” Professor Matson said as she came over to me. “Can you tell me what happened today?”
“The guy behind me was saying . . . unpleasant things. I tried to ignore him, but he just wouldn’t quit. I didn’t mean to lose my temper.” I took a breath as it rushed out. “Or cause a scene.”
“Another scene,” she reminded me. Her long brown hair was pulled back from her face, but hung in waves down her back. Black, leopard print glasses, with a white collar showing under her emerald green sweater, she was an attractive woman. I imagined that she would probably tick the boxes of the professor pin-up fantasy.
“Yeah, um, that time it was a rat.”
Her head tilted to the side as she looked at me. “What’s your name?”
“Ava Bryant, ma’am.”
“Ava, do you think I’m blind?” she asked me curiously as she looked me over. “Do you think I don’t know who the star quarterback for the Saints is?”
“Um, I . . .”
“And do you think I wouldn’t know who his teammates are?”
The guy wasn’t Jett’s teammate, but I decided now was not the time to tell her that. “Um.”
“Ava, let me give you some advice. Woman to woman.”
Huh?
“They are not interested. They are here for football and to perform for scouts. Academia is not their priority, I know this, and I am sure you do too. What I don’t know, is it yours?”
“Yes.” I nodded vigorously.
“Good, ignore the boys in the class and concentrate on your degree. Unfortunately, you will mean nothing to them. Even if you’re a warm body one night, it is unlikely that you will stay that way. You need to focus on you.”
Oh my God, was sheparentingme? It was weirdly sweet but also truly, horrifyingly awkward. “Um, yeah,” I stumbled. “Um, thanks.”
“Good girl. No outbursts next week, okay?” She rubbed my upper arm as she smiled at me, and in a cloud of awkwardness, I departed her class.
As soon as the door closed behind me, I was fishing out my phone. I needed to tell Mia.
Me:Prof Matson just gave me the sex talk
Me:Like hashtag awkward?
Mia:I’m heading into class — tell me everything but I won’t be able to respond
Mia:and it’s #awkward dork
