If physical violence wasn’t sure to get me suspended from the soccer team, therefore threatening my athletic scholarship, I’d have half a mind to jump on top of him and start pummeling him with myfists.
I’m not typically a violent person, but Mac seems to know exactly what buttons to push to make me borderline murderous.
“Piss off.” I hiss, trying to focus on the teacher instead of the erratic beating of my heart against my ribcage.
He chuckles again but smartly falls silent next to me.
“Six weeks.” I catch the ass end of whatever the professor was saying.
Six weeks... Certainly, he doesn’t mean...
“You will work together to conduct experiments of varying degrees. This will include cognitive tests, memory experiments, perception studies, and behavioral experiments. You will document your findings as you go and present your conclusion at the end of October. You can find the specifics of your assignment on the syllabus, which I updated this morning. I will give you the remainder of class to look over it, ask any questions you may have, and discuss a plan with your partner.”
With that, he turns, rounding his desk before taking a seat.
“You may begin discussions.” He waves a dismissive hand, and voices immediately begin to filter through the room.
“Well, this should be fun,” Macallan says, looking way too comfortable stretched out next to me like a feline cat bathing in the sunlight.
“I think perhaps my idea of fun and yours are slightly different.” I sneer, opening my laptop once more before pulling up the class syllabus.
Reading it over, my stomach turns sour. The things we have to discuss. Theexperimentswe have to do. The idea of doing any of these with Mac makes my insides wither. I canbarely look at him without wanting to throat punch him. How in the hell am I going to get through six weeks of this? My dread is only magnified by the extent of the coursework and just how much this project entails. Not something that can be done in the course of an hour-long class. No, this will require evenings and weekends. I think I’d rather peel off my own fingernails than go through with this.
Though it’s not like I have much of a choice. Given that this project will count for fifty percent of my grade for the semester and I have to maintain a certain GPA for my scholarship, my hands are completely tied.
I tug at the neck of my blouse, the temperature of the room suddenly stifling.
“So what’s the plan?” Macallan is still in the same relaxed position, completely unfazed by my obvious discomfort.
“The plan?” It takes every ounce of willpower I have to keep my expression neutral.
“Yeah, the plan.” He gestures to my open laptop. “Probably best that we figure out a schedule that works for us now so we can plan ahead.”
“You say that like you actually intend to do any of the work.” I hiss.
“Pretty sure it’s a partner assignment. It’s not like you can interview yourself and come up with an unbiased conclusion. Not to mention, how do you plan to do cognitive experiments on yourself?” He cocks a brow, a smirk toying at the corner of his mouth.
“Like you even know what a cognitive experiment entails,” I mutter bitterly to myself as I look back at the syllabus.
He’s not wrong, though I would never admit that outloud. There’s no way one person could do this assignment. It’s designed to prevent anyone from even attempting.
“I know it may come as a shock to you, but I’m not the stupid jock you think I am. I’m on an athletic scholarship, same as you,” he says after a brief moment of silence stretches between us.
“Being on an athletic scholarship doesn’t mean you aren’t a stupid jock.” I meet his gaze. “It just means you’re capable of doing the bare minimum to maintain it. Good for you.”
“For your information, I have a 4.0 GPA and have been on the dean’s list every semester since freshman year.”
I hide my surprise with a roll of my eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it.” I snort.
“You don’t know me nearly as well as you seem to think you do.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was hurt flaring behind his eyes before it was quickly masked with irritation.
Interesting...
“Funny... I could say the same thing to you.”
“I’m not the one spewing insults, now, am I?”
