"I'm not. I'm not prying with him. If only I knew what semester he had Chem 202, then maybe I could piece it together."
"You're going to drive yourself crazy, Ellie," Dex said, but he gave me a hug.
Just when it felt like the weekend would never end, Tuesday came. I brought Byron cookies and studied with him in his office. Then I spent the evening repeating everything to Dex and the guys and studying some more. Dex walked me out of the library.
When we reached the usual this-is-where-we-part fork in the road, he pulled a blue folder out of his backpack and handed it to me.
I took it from him, puzzled. "What's this?"
"You wanted to know about Logan Walker's schedule since he's been here. There you go—his complete transcript."
My eyes went wide. "But how—"
"Contact in the registrar's office. Don't ask for details. I never reveal my sources. Just promise me you'll try to move on."
I took the folder back to my dorm room, locked myself in, and guiltily read the contents of the folder. Before the accident, Logan had been a four-point student on the dean's list. His second semester freshman year, his grades started sliding. I figured that by the time of the accident, his grades were already high enough to float him a decent GPA that semester. And maybe he was still hopeful of recovering.
In the fall of his sophomore year, his grades took a nosedive. By then he must have realized he wasn't going to get his throwing arm back. As I read grade after grade in class after class, I realized he'd told me the truth. He'd almost flunked out, just barely passing each class with a C-. I wondered how much pull Jason had used to keep Logan in school.
The last class on the list was Chem 202. He'd taken it that semester. No wonder he had bad memories from it and didn't want to talk about it. Jason had said Logan had done well in chem. I clearly remembered Logan shrugging it off, saying he'd done all right. I was totally unprepared for what I saw on the report. This couldn't be right. Logan got an A out of Chem 202 from Dr. Rogers? I gasped.
Dr. Rogers only gave one A a semester, and that was usually an A-. How could Logan have gotten that A when he was in such a tailspin? But there it was in black and white. Chem was the only thing that kept his GPA high enough that semester to prevent him from being put on probation. It didn't make any sense. None at all. If he'd gotten an A, he'd have to have studied his butt off. There was no way he would have forgotten it all unless he'd gotten a concussion.
My head swam because it didn't make any sense. Maybe Dex was right—I was only driving myself crazy. I had to move on and forget Logan.
On Wednesday and Friday, and every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afterward, Logan tried to make forgetting him easy on me by avoiding the office. We didn't meet for burgers again, and on the rare occasions I saw him, he nodded almost curtly and moved on without speaking to me.
Is it possible to fall in love with someone in such a short time? Or was I only romanticizing Logan and our brief time together? I rationalized it was hard to forget someone who'd saved your life.
To everyone's surprise, Bre and Dan became a thing. She hung out with him so much we rarely saw her. Nic and Taylor dragged me along to party after party, but I had no enthusiasm for them. Guys hit on me. But none of them were Logan and none of them took me out to wish on falling stars.
I buried myself in my studies, work, and football games. I baked more and more creative cookies, experimenting with using rum flavoring instead of vanilla. And cherry chips I found at a little specialty shop downtown instead of chocolate chips.
I realized Byron was probably getting the wrong idea, thinking I was baking to impress him. He was easily pleased and surprisingly, just as easy to talk to.
"Have you ever had your heart broken?" I asked him after one of our tutoring sessions while we ate cookies together.
"I get my heart broken every day. Girls aren't into me."
"That's just stupid," I said, vehemently and honestly. I believed there was a girl out there for him. There had to be. There was a mate for everyone, except me. "Girls can be so blind and superficial. A man with brains is hot."
He blushed.
I realized I'd just stepped in it. And if Byron ever got a look at Logan and Austin, he'd peg me as just as superficial as the rest of my sex.
Taylor buttered up the cook, getting on her good side in preparation for asking for the cobblestone bar recipe, which Taylor quickly discovered was her specialty and a closely guarded secret. In the meantime, Tay grabbed a bar from every batch she could. We tasted and experimented, trying to recreate the recipe.
I'd been holding cobblestone bars out as a secret weapon, until I got tired of wasting so many attempts and tossing them in the garbage. I figured out that Byron would eat about anything and still stayed skinny and scrawny. He seemed genetically programmed to be unable to build muscle mass.
I finally let him in on our campaign and brought him a bar from the dining hall for comparison. He ate a lot of failed batches with good grace, rating our attempts as faithfully as he graded my chem quizzes. Once, he surprised me with a chemical analysis he'd run on it.
"It has 240 kilojoules per—"
I cut him off, laughing. "Don't tell me how many calories or kilojoules it has. That will ruin it."
"Okay, can I tell you it contains salt, baking soda, chocolate, flour, and sugar?"
"You may." I gave him a quick hug. "But we already knew that. You're sweet to try, though."
When he blushed, his cheeks turned patchy with bright red splotches, highlighting his acne scars. He looked cute in a really sweet, nerdy way probably only a mother and a girl he was helping with chemistry could love. And by love, I mean in the platonic sense.
Taylor sneaked in to watch whenever Cook was baking them. She came off shift with tidbits like "It has cream cheese in the frosting." And "She puts the marshmallows on while it's hot." Then I would head to the kitchen to try again.
Time after time, we gave it our best shot, but as October rolled around, Byron still hadn't given us a perfect ten. Byron graded my chem quizzes and lab reports. I was still failing the chem quizzes, but my scores now suspiciously matched Dex's as the highest in the class and I didn't think they were due to my superior intellect.
Every time I failed another chem quiz along with five hundred odd other students, I wondered how Logan had managed to ace them.
I was regularly getting one hundred percent on my lab reports. Again, I pretty much knew who the culprit was and his name was Byron. I suspected he went easy on me, padding my scores by an extra point or two.
I liked to earn my grades. I wasn't a cheater by nature. I wanted to ask him to stop. Maybe I would have if Dr. Rogers hadn't been such a bitch and I could think of a kind way to ask him without getting him in trouble or hurting his feelings. But the bitch Rogers wasn't playing fair, so why should I?
Dex was livid the first time I outscored him on a lab report. After that, I casually mentioned to Byron how Dex was my lab partner and shouldn't we be getting the same scores? Then Dex's lab scores became perfect, too. He nearly threw his shoulder out patting himself on the back for the genius of his plan.
"I bet if you slept with Byron, you could get him to steal the midterm for us," Dex said to me after one particularly grueling study session.
I didn't dignify that with a response.
"Oh, come on! What do you have to lose? A few minutes of your time?"
Fortunately for him, I could tell he was teasing. "My integrity, my self-respect." My virginity, I could have added. "Just drop it, Dex. I'm not sleeping with him. I won't prostitute myself for a grade."
I'd done everything but with Austin. But I hadn't lost it. The thought of actual sex scared me to death. Being the consequence of failed birth control, I lived in fear of repeating my mother's mistake. I don't think my mom was stupid. And I knew she was careful—through three husbands and numerous lovers, she never gave me a little brother or sister. But somehow there was me and I refused to end up like she
had—alone and desperate.
As the semester rolled along, I became friends with Karen in the office. I even went to one of her son's football games. She told me stories about the office staff and the RTAs. I learned a lot about Jason from her—best boss ever. Great dad. Wonderful mentor. Supportive friend. Didn't anyone have a bad thing to say about him?
I got to know Jason better, too. Guessing who I reminded him of became a running joke between us. At first it made me nervous, but after a while, I realized he had no idea and was just teasing.
He took me on as a mentee and gave me a project in the management information systems arena, coaching me at every step and helping me clarify my analysis and thinking. Sometimes, I pretended he knew he was my dad and he was doing the dad thing for real. He even said he'd talk to the business department about getting me internship credit for my project. Everything I saw about him, I liked, especially his calm, reassuring manner. He seemed like he could shoulder the weight of anything life threw at him. Anything, maybe, but me?
Daily, I was tormented by what I should do. Keeping my secret was eating me up inside. At times I felt like a fraud. But was it right to upset his perfect life? Was I only a liability? Had too much time passed? Would he forgive me for deceiving him and not revealing myself immediately? If I never revealed myself, could I ever be with Logan?
Except for Logan and me avoiding each other, I loved my job and made friends with many of the RTAs. As I got to know them, I became aware of their particular likes and strengths and tried the best I was able to dispatch them to jobs they were most suited for. I think they appreciated my effort. I got a lot of thank-yous and kudos for being a better dispatcher than last year's.
Jason put me in charge of scheduling and I tried to schedule everyone around exams and big projects they had on their plate. I took care of everyone but Logan. Jason alone was in control of his schedule and assignments. He and Jason were so close I was jealous on both sides—I wanted to be close to my dad and Logan.
Though my group studied, we failed weekly chem quiz after quiz. My other classes were stressful and gave tons of homework, but they were nothing compared to chemistry. Dr. Rogers refused to help. She blew off her office hours. She called us idiots while devising more and more diabolical, off-the-wall quizzes. I wasn't being paranoid when I thought she had a vendetta against us. The class grew more and more belligerent.
Dex organized the first salvo in our campaign against her. He got nearly half the class, over two hundred students, to email her for help on the same day.
In less than twelve hours she sent all of us a non-response response that was just helpful and innocuous enough that she stymied us with a single chess move. It was like she had it written up and on file ready to send. If we took her quick-response email to the department chair, he'd shut us down for being whiners. To his eyes, our complaint looked completely invalid.
"She's a worthy adversary," Dex said. "She's savvy enough to keep us from moving to the next step. She responded to over two hundred emails within twenty-four hours and gave just enough help to be totally unhelpful and keep herself out of hot water.
"As I suspected we would, we're going to have to take another approach. Going through university channels and using approved procedure will not work. But when the shit hits the fan at least we can say we tried." Dex got an evil gleam in his eyes.
I was afraid to question him further.
We hit our first round of midterms. The Chem 202 class begged Dr. Rogers for an old test to study. She refused. We studied our asses off. I aced four of my five midterms. I failed chemistry with one of the highest grades in the class, just below Dex's. I only knew where I ranked because Byron texted me so I wouldn't slit my wrists.
I texted Dex the news as soon as Byron texted me. Of course, Rogers posted the exam grades late Friday afternoon so she could blow us all off and hide out from us while ruining our weekend. A true win-win for her.
Dex texted me back that he was calling an emergency strategy meeting and the pizza was on him. He said he'd swing by to pick me up. Bre was out with Dan and probably staying over. Taylor and Nic were both out on dates. I had nothing better to do on a Friday night than study and plot revenge.
Dex picked me up around nine. He had the two other guys from our group with him. Dex took us to Spiro's, the same pizza place Jason had taken us the first week of class. The parking lot was packed, but Dex got lucky and got a spot just as someone pulled out. We piled into Spiro's and had to wait fifteen minutes to be seated. The waitress led us to a U-shaped booth against the back wall. Just what I needed. We had a fantastic view of the entire crowd that was at Spiro's—groups of friends and couples on dates.
I slid into the middle of the U next to Dex as the waitress passed out menus and took our drink order.
I opened my menu. "The pepperoni's really good here and they don't skimp." I glanced up just as the waitress walked away to get our beverages.
Sitting almost directly across from me right in my line of sight, Logan was holding hands with a pretty brunette, cuddled close in an intimate way. They were laughing and smiling. She fed him a bite of pizza.
I froze and went totally cold. I had thought my heart was dead before. Now it simply stopped. Logan was dating someone else, the player. He couldn't date me because he had stuff, mysterious stuff, he was dealing with, but he could date someone else?
I knew I was being irrational. I knew I'd told him we had to end it, too. And we did. Because of me. I also knew I had no right to be angry or jealous, but I was.
"Ellie? What's wrong?" Dex followed my line of sight. "Shit!" He covered my icy hand with his. "Ellie, listen to me. Don't look and don't let seeing him upset you. Don't let your emotions show on your face. The last thing he needs is an ego trip."
I swallowed hard and grabbed my purse. I had to escape, but I was boxed in. "Excuse me, boys. Sorry, Dex. I can't stay here and stare at him—"
Dex threw his arm around my shoulder. "Calm down. You're not going anywhere. You're not a coward. Just play along."
It looked like they were getting ready to leave. Logan picked up a pizza box. As the brunette stood, her napkin fell onto the floor. As Logan leaned down to pick it up for her, our eyes met. A look of surprise crossed his face.
Dex gently grabbed my chin, turned my face to his, and rubbed his nose to mine as if we were cutesy, in-love Eskimos.
"Remember—play along." He laughed at a joke I hadn't told. And then he kissed me. And I mean kissed me—full throttle, full tongue.
I was too stunned to move.
When he pulled away, he whispered in my ear. "Did he see that? Is he reeling with jealousy yet?"
"Yeah, he's reeling. Any minute he'll come over here and punch your lights out. Not." Logan really did look pained. I couldn't help smiling. "You're a surprisingly good kisser."
Dex smiled back at me. "I'm good at a lot of other things, too. Any chance you want to become study partners with benefits?" Coming from Dex that wasn't a come-on, just a joke.
"No."
Logan took the brunette's elbow and turned his back to me as he walked her toward the exit.
"No?" Dex said.
"Think of the ramifications—what would happen to our chem help if Byron found out?"
"Good point." Dex tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "Maybe another semester?"
Logan was out of sight, but I was still shaken. "I'll keep you in mind."
Dex really was sweet. Somehow he'd defused the situation. I no longer wanted to run. Dex was right. I'd look like a coward.
The waitress arrived with our beverages. With the danger passed, Dex removed his arm from around my shoulder.
"Danger averted," Dex said. "Now we can get to work."
I'd been so obsessed with Logan, I hadn't even been aware of our other two study partners, Joe and Kirk.
"Was that the ex?" Kirk asked.
I nodded.
"Leave it," Dex said. "Did you two guys look into what I asked?"
"My uncle owns a camera shop," Kirk said. "I can get your supplies."
"Joe?"
"I'll have it in a few days," Joe replied.
Dex nodded, looking as serious as a president about to order a nuclear strike. "You didn't order online? There's no paper trail, no electronic trail? It's not going to be coming through the mail?"
Joe and Kirk assured him there were no trails.
Dex relaxed.
"What's this about?" I asked.
"I'll tell you in the car."
Our pizza arrived. We ate. Chemistry didn't come up again until in the car after Dex dropped Joe and Kirk off.
"This is war," Dex said.
"Yes, I know that. Nuclear war."
"No, after that midterm, this in intergalactic planetary destruction war."
"Okay, intergalactic war," I said. "What are you planning to do?"
"Rattle Dr. Roger's cage." He laughed.
"So why do you sound like Dr. Evil?" I said.
"It's just a prank, Ellie. We have a motto—Primum non nocere."
"Do no harm," I said, translating the Latin. "I thought that was for doctors."
"And pranksters who don't want to be expelled if they're caught," Dex said. "Don't worry. We're being careful. That's why we're not leaving a trail. And in the extremely remote possibility we are caught, my dad gives big to this university. If he threatens to pull his support, the administration will look the other way."
"For you, maybe."
"For all of us." Dex smiled again. "Are you in?"
"I like to know what I'm getting into before I agree," I said.
"All right, but I'm only telling you because if we're caught, you'll be implicated because you're part of our study group. If you decide not to join in, you'll have to swear that I never told you anything."
"Agreed."
"You know that ancient overhead projector with the rolling transparency paper that Dr. Rogers uses to scribble equations on so fast we can't keep up?"
I nodded.
"They used projectors like that when my dad was in college. He had a prof who everyone hated who used to write too fast, too. Just like us, Dad and his buds got tired of it.
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