Chapter 36
I'min such a good mood the next day that it doesn't even bother me when Heather is loudly singing Taylor Swift in the shower. Anyway, it's a relief to know that everything worked out with Dr. Conlon just the way I planned. Okay, not entirely the way I planned, but close enough.
When I arrive at the lecture the next morning, I notice that Dr. Conlon seems to be in a pretty good mood too. He's joking around with the class more than usual, and even though he's generally an animated teacher, I'm impressed by the enthusiasm he's managed to whip up for the muscles of mastication. He really needed to get laid.
Truthfully, Dr. Conlon is a good teacher. Actually, he's a great teacher. He's patient and good at explaining tricky concepts, but most importantly, he so obviously loves teaching. This job is his life. And that's why this is so perfect. As much as it will hurt his pride, when he figures out what I'm after, he'll cave immediately. He won't do anything to jeopardize his career.
After the lecture is over, I give the professor a five-minute head start to get to his office before heading over there myself. I'm pleased to see the way his eyes light up when I enter the room. I could probably get the keys to his car and all his credit card numbers if I wanted.
"Rachel." He beams at me. "I was hoping you'd come by…"
I close the door behind me and lock it. A smile stretches across my lips. "How are you doing, Dr. Conlon?"
"Matt," he corrects me.
In about five minutes, he's going to hate my guts.
I cross the room to his desk. He pushes his chair back from the desk to allow me room to sit down on his lap. I settle down on his legs and wrap my arms around his neck. I bring my face close to his.
"Are you busy?" I ask him.
He shakes his head, "Nah, just some paperwork."
This is the moment to drop the bombshell. But I see the way he's looking at me and… somehow I just choke. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's not like Matt Conlon is the first professor to become smitten with me.
"What?" He's looking at me, dark eyebrows raised. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing," I say, forcing a smile.
He starts to kiss my neck, and my body melts against him. His fingers slide into my hair, and it feels so nice. Maybe I don't have to tell him right now. Maybe we can go one more time…
Oh my God, what's wrong with me?
I have to do this now. Right now.
I pull away from him resolutely, trying to ignore the confusion on his face as I take a deep breath.
"Actually, there is something that's sort of been on my mind…"
He frowns in concern. "What?"
"I just… I feel like I can't stop thinking about my grade on that exam," I sigh. "It's really… distracting me."
At this point, at least half of the professors would immediately say something along the lines of: Don't you worry yourself about that grade. We'll fix that right now. It saves both of us face if they volunteer to change my grade without having to be threatened.
But Conlon isn't going for it. Damn. He has too much integrity. He's not going to change my grade. He's going to need to be persuaded.
This is going to get ugly.
"I'm sure you'll do better on the next exam." His face brightens. "I'd be happy to tutor you myself, Rachel. I do that all the time for students who are having trouble. It's important to me that you do well."
"Yes, but…" I run my hand over the inside of his thigh. "It's going to be hard to pass with such a low grade on the first exam."
"Rachel, honey." He wraps his fingers around my wrist, stopping them from moving north. "I appreciate what you're doing, but don't you have some studying to do?"
Our eyes meet. And that's when I realize it:
He knows.
He knows exactly what I want. And he's not planning to make this easy for me.
Too bad he has no idea who he's dealing with.
"Matt," I say thoughtfully, "how do you think the dean feels about professors who have sex with their students?"
I watch him carefully for his reaction, expecting his face to drain of color. But it doesn't. He looks completely calm and collected.
"They probably don't like it too much," Dr. Conlon says with a shrug. "I've heard of professors getting fired for that."
"Really?" I say in mock surprise.
He nods. "Yeah, sure. And some of them end up wrecking their marriages too. I heard about a professor recently from another university whose wife left him after he slept with one of his students." He smiles at me. "Actually, I believe he taught at your former university. Maybe you knew him? Dr. Michael Hirsch?"
Oh no. No, no, no…
He can't know about that. It's not possible.
Mike Hirsch was a middle-aged guy who was just as unattractive and balding as Mr. Pritchett had been, and he also happened to teach my biology class in college. He'd believed I really liked him and had thrown a fit when I suggested he alter my grades. I'd been forced to place an unfortunate phone call to his wife. The call to the wife always came first because a call to the university would have been much more of a scandal. Of course, as soon as I called his wife, Mike realized I meant business.
But how the hell does Dr. Conlon know about that? Nobody knows. Except, of course, for Mike Hirsch, Mrs. Hirsch, and me.
"He's pretty pissed off at that student who wrecked his marriage," Dr. Conlon continues. "Would you believe he was angry enough to call some of the professors here to personally warn us about that student? As if any of us would be dumb enough to get taken in by something like that."
Oh, Christ.
I climb off Dr. Conlon's lap and back away, staring at him. He's not smiling anymore, that's for sure.
"Personally," he says, "I wouldn't worry anyway. I'm not married, and I'm the only disabled member on the entire faculty and have been for quite a while. I can pretty much get away with whatever I want. I mean, it's not like they're going to think that I seduced my student, right?"
"You knew all along," I breathe, shaking my head.
"Well, it was nice of Dr. Hirsch to give me that heads-up," he says. "But when you came in here yesterday wearing that short skirt… Come on, do you think I'm stupid, Rachel?"
I can't believe this. Of all the professors I've been with, I can't believe Dr. Conlon is the one who finally caught on to me. The entire time we were having sex yesterday, when he was acting so grateful and amazed, he knew exactly what I was up to. It was all an act. I'm furious.
"Congratulations," I say. "You figured me out."
I storm off in the direction of the door, but before I get there, I hear his voice.
"Hold on, Rachel. Where do you think you're going?"
I turn and see him playing with the handle of his cane.
"What?" I say irritably.
"You're still failing anatomy," he reminds me. "What do you expect to do about that?"
I hate him. I really truly hate him.
"I don't know," I say. "Pop a bunch of pills till I stop breathing so none of this matters?"
Dr. Conlon's face darkens. He doesn't seem to appreciate my joke, probably because there were several students who really did that. But honestly, I'm not entirely sure I'm joking.
"I'm holding special tutoring sessions," he says. "For the students who did abysmally on the exam. I'll email you the times—I suggest you show up."
"I guess I don't have much of a choice now, do I?" I snap at him.
"Nope." He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Good luck, Rachel."
Yeah, I'm going to need it.