Karolina shakes her head, and her straight, shiny brown hair sways around her delicate face. “Please don’t. The last thing I want is to antagonize our new professor. I’d rather not get a failing grade because I pissed him off.”
“If he tries to fail us, my father will talk to the head of department. Then Professor Arsehole will be out of a job. He thinks he’s so fucking important, but he’s just a poor first-year lecturer. I checked his bio, and he’s barely out of his PhD. My dad could get him blacklisted from all the universities in England if I asked him to.”
“Tempting,” Karolina replies blithely. “But I’d rather make it impossible for him to fail me. The best way to show him that he’s wrong about me is to be so competent that he has to give me a good grade.”
Amala nods in agreement. “Yes, that’s the best way.”
Rich pouts. “I still think you should let me call my father. He’ll take care of it.”
“No, thank you.” Karolina shuts him down, and she doesn’t bother to sound placating about it.
She really isn’t impressed with his threats to run to Daddy to solve his problems.
That’s my girl.
Pride heats my chest, chasing away some of my anger at the boy’s proximity to her.
I keep watching their lame little party as more of their course mates mingle with them. Usually, I’m content to simply watch Karolina doing anything—cooking, writing, masturbating—but I can’t ease my resentment that she’s enjoying the company of others rather than calling me.
Her new friends start to filter out of the party, some of them stumbling slightly as they head for the door. Amala and Rich linger, and my irritation ratchets up a notch.
“Do you want to come out dancing with us?” Amala asks, checking her phone. “Some of the others have gone to the club. No tequila shots, I promise.”
“You go ahead,” Karolina encourages. “I need to get an early start at the library tomorrow.”
“So dedicated.” Rich laughs, as though her tenacity and intellect are amusing. “You’re an inspiration, Lena. Mind if I join you?”
“Sure. I’m planning to be there around eight, after my morning run.”
Rich slaps a hand to his forehead dramatically. “You’re getting up for a run before eight? The morning after a party?”
“I haven’t even finished two ciders,” she replies. “It won’t be a problem.”
“You don’t know how to have fun, Lena. Don’t worry. We’ll show you.”
He slings his arms around Amala and Karolina, and I see red.
Both women instantly tense, and he quickly frees them from his proprietary touch.
“I’m going to dance,” Amala announces. “I’d love to meet you at the library, though. Probably around ten.”
Karolina offers her a genuine smile. “That sounds great. Have fun!”
The last is directed at Rich too, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on the subtle dismissal.
“I’ll help you clean up, at least,” he insists.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
But he’s already bustling around the lounge, picking up empty bottles. “Where’s your recycling?”
“In the kitchen. But seriously, I’ve got it.”
Amala starts to lend a hand, but Karolina stops her.
“Go on,” she urges. “You don’t want to miss out on dancing. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Alright, but I’m hosting next time,” her new friend offers.
