Her shoulders lift, and if I hadn’t been paying attention, I would have missed the shake of her head, but then she pins me with a face that looks like the answer should be obvious.
“Say you’re my boyfriend.”
I bark out a laugh that echoes through the otherwise empty showers before setting the soap down. “Sorry, babe. I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing it’s not real.”
I rub my ear and reach behind me to turn off the shower. “I don’t even think I would be a good fake boyfriend.”
She takes a step back, crossing her arms. “Well, maybe that will teach you to not run around and tell people we’re dating.” Her scowl should really be making me feel bad, but all it’s doing is stirring my cock. “I assume you’ll be at Creekside tomorrow?”
All I can do is nod, because I can’t wrap my head around any of this being that serious.
“Good. We’ll hammer out the details then.”
I lean forward, reaching just past her shoulder for my towel. Her swallow is audible when my face hovers mere inches from hers, and I smirk as I grip the towel behind her but don’t pull back. Her eyes bore into mine, and we stand like this for what feels like an eternity, but in reality is likely only seconds, neither of us willing to back down.
“Chloe, honey!” Coach Alvarez's voice cuts through the tension, enough to make her jump, and I use the distraction to wrap the towel around my waist. “What are you doing in here?”
Chloe turns toward Coach’s outstretched arm as he mutters something about how these girls are going to kill him.
I watch her walk out until she’s at the edge of the showers,and I want to tell her to forget whatever plan she has up her sleeve, because it’s never going to work. As if she can hear my thoughts, she puts a hand on the corner of the wall and turns, facing me once again.
“It’s good to see that you can rise to the occasion.” She smirks, and I look down at the tent in my towel.
9
chloe
The chairin my advisor’s office feels different today. When I first started seeing Mrs. Lawson, her office always felt like a warm hug. Her desk is adorned with mismatched photo frames of her husband and pets. A thick glass jar full of Werthers Original caramel candies is always full when I enter, and missing three by the time I leave. Handmade cloth coasters cover both her desk and bookshelves, which ironically are covered in coffee mugs,noton said coasters. To a T, the room looks the same as it has since freshman year. Today, the wide low-back leather chair feels a little off, though.
“Well, Chloe, I think your letter is great.”
“Really?” I shift forward when she sets my application letter down. “The list doesn’t seem too pushy, or Rory Gilmore-y?” I wave my hands oddly in front of myself before clasping them together and cracking my knuckles.
She pushes her green-rimmed glasses on top of her head, pursing her lips with a slight shake of her head. “I’m afraid I don’t quite get the reference, but it sounds negative, so I’m going to go ahead and say no.”
I sink back down, blowing out a breath when she smiles, looking over the paper again. “It’s sharp, well thought out,and hits all the points. I think you have a very good chance at securing that TA position for next semester.”
Suddenly, I’ve forgotten the change in the chair beneath me.
“Now, don’t get upset, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn’t ask. Are you sure that this is really what you want your focus to be on?” She looks at me with those soft brown eyes of hers. The kind that have always felt like they were rooting for me in earnest rather than a woman just doing her job. Her lips are pressed into a gentle line, and I can hear the concern behind her calm tone.
When I don’t answer, she continues, “I know you’ve dipped your toes down a few different avenues over the last two years.”
I nod my head, because she’s not wrong. I might have a slight overachiever complex.
“And if this is all still about getting a letter for grad school?—”
“It’s not,” I cut her off, finally. “I mean, yes, it will be helpful, but that’s not why I’m doing it.”
Liar.
Professor Soto has the record he has because everyone who has assisted him in the last decade have all gotten accepted into the school of their choice, and the only thing they all had in common is a Professor Soto letter of recommendation.
The truth is, I’m twenty-two and still pretending I’ve got a plan. Mrs. Lawson was half right—Ihavetried everything under the sun. When I was younger, it was easy. I was good at pretty much everything I tried, so I did anything I could. Once people started to notice, though, they assumed everything I did would end in some sort of award or a win. There was never a question of if I could do it, or would I fail. It was always ‘Chloe can do anything’. I probably would have quit while I was ahead, because honestly, I didn’t care about anyof it, but I know that would have crushed my parents. They cheered loud and proud through every test, science fair, and after school sport imaginable. On the surface, I’ve always shown my appreciation for it, because no matter how many things I do, I still just want to make them proud.
Here I am, senior year of college and absolutely nothing has changed. Now, I’m just tutoring, volunteering, part of the student government, and trying for a TA position I don’t even want, but one I know comes with a letter of recommendation and another clean step forward. Grad school is really just one more thing I could do well. It’s another way I can keep moving without actually having to decide anything.
