10. Fern

Chapter 10

Fern

It takes me ages to calm down after teaching my recitation section every Friday. I know the material pretty well, and I think I'm doing a good job of keeping the students engaged and learning the material. But it's just so much work to keep my cool in front of them and project a confident aura.

Especially when I've got Wyatt sitting there, hot and vulnerable. I found myself wanting to wrap him in my arms the other day, even though I knew I couldn't. I need to remember to look up resources for students like him who are having issues with their families. I'm sure the other teaching assistants are probably better equipped to handle those things. All I had to offer him was a stupid hand squeeze and listening ear.

I have so much riding on this class going well…so much. The stress of that alone would make my back sweat but add in Wyatt sitting in the circle of students each week, staring me down with his dark eyes. He always looks like he did when we were naked together—intense, dirty, vulnerable, and dominant all mixed together.

My phone buzzes in my bag, shaking me out of my thoughts. It's a text from Thora about meeting up for lunch. I smile and send her a thumbs-up. I have just enough time to sit in my cubicle across from Professor Yoon's office and chip away at my own coursework.

Saving my easier classes for my final semester was a pretty slick move. Sure, I had to work like a maniac last semester on all the advanced math classes, but I needed those completed before my grad school application anyway. I'm staring down a few months of a more relaxed pace.

I've been really enjoying my art class, which surprises me because I pretty much never thought about art once before this. This week, I've been thrilled to read about how fractals are present in the work of famous artists like Jackson Pollock and Katsushika Hokusai.

I happily spend an hour on my paper for art history before my timer goes off to meet Thora in the cafeteria. She's already sprawled out at a table with a bowl of soup when I arrive. I don't want to interrupt her since she hasn't yet heard about her law school acceptance, and I know she's a bit of a mess. By the time I wait in line for my sandwich, and make my way over to her, she's got ink on her nose and has propped one of her pre-law textbooks on her empty soup bowl.

"Hey," I whisper, sliding into the seat across from her. "You gonna make it?"

She looks up at me and blows her hair out of her eyes. "To be determined. Ugh, is it past noon already?" She glances around at the crowded cafeteria.

I nod, mouth full of sandwich. I swallow and tell her, "I don't mind a working lunch if you need to get caught up. I'm reading about fractals as a tool to identify forgery in fine art."

Thora rolls her eyes. "I have no idea what any of that means. None of it."

I laugh. "That's okay." I wave a hand at her spread of books. "What are you frazzled about?"

"Ugh, I'm in this stupid argument class that's half full of jocks who give zero shits and half full of pre-law students who really need the credits. And, of course, the professor stuck me with another pre-law student for this project."

I frown. "Why is that bad?"

"Because now I have to actually collaborate and talk through the problems." She slams a book shut and picks up her soup bowl. I laugh as she licks at the rim. "God, this is good. So salty. Anyway, if I had a jock partner, I could just do the whole thing my way, be in charge, make sure it's all perfect. You know?"

I do know. We get along because we both have that desperate need for perfection and control. If we mess up, we both know the stakes and how even one lousy grade can set off a staircase of unintended consequences. I pat her hand. "I'm sure you and the other pre-law asshole will make a fine argument about …" I glance at the books she's been packing in her bag. "…the effectiveness of standardized tests. Thora that sounds boring as hell."

She nods. "It is. Did I mention we couldn't come to an agreement about our topic, and the professor had to assign one to us?" Shaking her head, Thora fixes her ponytail and then leans forward on her elbows, chin in her hands. "How was recitation today?"

I flush. She notices. "And what was he wearing this time? Maybe those mesh shirts they put on when they break into teams? With nothing underneath?"

"Thora Jansson, stop it right now!" The damage is done, of course. I'm thinking about Wyatt in athletic shorts and a mesh tank top, staring at me like he does in class.

She stands up and gestures for me to follow her. "You're the one who said you need to figure out how to let loose this semester. You haven't even gone to a party yet, have you?"

I shake my head, following her out of the cafeteria. "I think I already had my fun. And like I said, this art class is pretty cool."

"Jesus, Fern. One night of nooky and a class that's not impossible is not a formula for a fun final semester."

"Oh, like you're out there doing keg stands and snorting coke."

She laughs at me. "Is that how you think of fun? Drugs and being upside down?"

I shrug. "What do I know about relaxing?"

She links her arm with mine. "Come on. I don't have class ‘til three. Let's go into the hotel across the street and steal desserts from the conference room."

I swat at her. "We can't do that. People paid for those."

"Yeah, and we're usually the ones being paid to serve them and clean them up. You know how many are usually leftover." Thora tugs my hand across Fifth Avenue into the fancy university building where—I don't even know what sorts of business people gather at these events. She's right that we're usually working with the catering staff. Hesitantly, I follow her into one of the ballrooms. She smiles and waves at the men and women in suits, making a beeline for the dessert buffet. Before I can blink, we're back outside, each holding a tiny plastic cup of mousse with a tiny wooden spoon.

Thora dots chocolate on my nose with her spoon. "See? Wasn't that fun? And nobody was eating them anyway."

Eventually, I relax enough to swallow the dessert. We sit side by side on a black metal bench, watching students rush past en route to class, eating decadent sweets. And I really do feel more relaxed.

Thora wanders off for her afternoon class, and I head home, wishing I'd saved some of the mousse to share with my mom. Inspired, I look up a recipe for mousse on my phone and stop at the store to grab the ingredients.

Another movie night with Mom and fancy dessert sounds like just the thing to kick off … well, a weekend full of coursework and not entirely relaxing. I'm fidgety because I'm used to working at the bar, but when I couldn't take weeknight shifts anymore, they filled my position with another bartender. It'll be okay. Soon enough.