by Claire Adams
“I’ve never been to Paris before. My mom’s been a bunch though, before I was born. She really liked it.”
“Well, I told him it might be something we could do some day.”
Tessa came over and sat down next to me, draping her legs across my lap. “If I can ever get all this schoolwork done,” she said, “there’s nothing more I would rather do.”
It was a little strange—but in a good way—to have feature writing class and be there at the front of the classroom, Tessa sitting amongst the sea of faces that made up my students. Every so often, I would look over and see Tessa watching me, and we’d exchange a tiny smile. I caught Kristin looking at us once, but she didn’t say anything.
Was it Kristin that was sending the letters? It seemed possible that she would have figured something out, but the letters didn’t make sense. Rather, what the letters wanted didn’t make sense—Kristin wouldn’t have someone else write her papers. There was no possible way. She took her schoolwork much too seriously and would never stoop to the level of having someone else complete her assignments.
But who, then?
There didn’t really seem to be an obvious suspect. After class got out, Kristin was getting her stuff together.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
She gave me a weird look. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I mean exactly that. How’s everything going with you?”
“It’s fine,” she said slowly.
“I mean, not just with this class, but how are things going in the rest of your classes? Do you feel like you’ve got too much on your plate, being a teaching assistant and all?”
“I’ve got a full course load, if that’s what you’re asking, but no, I don’t think I’ve got too much on my plate. And I actually really enjoy getting to be a teaching assistant.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I can tell that you like it. You’ve done a great job this semester.”
She zipped her backpack up. “Well, thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and was about to leave but then stopped. “What about you?” she asked. “How’s it going with you?”
“Things are good.”
“Are they? Because—and don’t take this the wrong way or anything—you don’t really seem like you like teaching that much. I’ve kind of always wondered why you’re here. Not that your students aren’t learning from you, but it’s always seemed to me like you want to be somewhere else.”
I leaned back in my chair, a little surprised that she had picked up on that. I thought I’d done a better job at hiding it. “You’re not totally off base,” I said. “Teaching wasn’t what I envisioned myself doing. But, it’s kind of how things have worked out, at least for right now.”
“I’m not saying you’re a bad teacher or anything like that at all,” she said. “It just seems like this isn’t your first choice.”
“Well,” I said, “thanks for letting me know I’m being a little more obvious about it than I thought I was.”
“It’s not like it’s too late for you to do something else, you know,” she said. “Something that you actually want to be doing. Whatever that might be.” She smiled. “Anyway. I better get going. See you next class.”
“Later,” I said.
After Kristin left, I sat there for a few more minutes, even more certain now that it wasn’t her who was behind the letters. Which left me with no real clue as to who it was, though I realized I’d be able to figure it out eventually. The final assignment they wanted Tessa to do was an article for the Daily Journal, and I’d be one of the people going through the submissions. All I had to do was look for the article she’d written, and the name would be right there on the top.
That evening, Tessa went down to the Haymarket to study with Lindsey, so I met up with Jack at the Corkscrew. I figured I might as well break the news to him about Tessa now, in person. It’d be better than him randomly stopping by one day to find Tessa there, in a T-shirt and underwear.
“So, I’ve got something to tell you,” I said.
“Do you?” he said, and he sounded anxious, as though he expected some sort of bad news or something.
“Yeah. And I figured it would be better to tell you in person.”
He frowned. “I’m not sure I like the sound of this. I . . . I have something to tell you, too. But . . . you go first.”
“Tessa’s staying with me for the time being,” I said mildly, taking a sip of my beer. I watched his face to gauge his reaction, which was surprisingly not as severe as I expected it to be. In fact, he seemed almost distracted.
“Staying with you? Like, living at your place?”
“Yes, like, living at my place.”
“Oh.” He took a sip of his own beer and looked down at the table, then up, over my shoulder at something, then back down as he took another sip of beer.
“Is that all you have to say about it?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Um . . .” His fingers drummed the top of the table. “Well. Of course I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Leo. What exactly led you to doing that?”
“It’s just the way things worked out. Her parents cut her off.”
“Because they found out about you guys?”
“Yeah. In a rather unfortunate way.”
He didn’t ask me what that unfortunate way was, so I didn’t elaborate. “Is everything okay?” I asked. “You’re being weirdly neutral about this.”
“I’m not neutral about this,” he said. “I think it’s an awful idea, and I have from the beginning. And hearing that her parents found out and cut her off is just a further example of why it’s a bad idea. But . . . there is something that I wanted to talk to you about. Not that I’m trying to change the subject or anything.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, my interest piqued. “What’s up?”
He rubbed a hand across his face. “It’s . . . well . . . I’m not really sure how to say it.”
“You could try just saying it.”
“I’m not even really sure how it happened.”
“Okayyy . . .”
“I . . . Colette and I slept together.”
He had a pained expression on his face, like he thought I was going to jump out of my chair and sock him. Which was actually the last thing I wanted to do; this was great news! I reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.
“No shit?” I said. “Good for you guys!”
He stared at me. “You’re not pissed? It was an accident. Neither of us were planning on doing that, it just sort of . . . happened.”
“Well, I hope it was good. I hope it’s something that the two of you plan to do again.”
“You do?”
“I wasn’t joking when I said that I thought you guys would make a great couple! I really wasn’t. If anything, I am very happy for the both of you!”
Jack looked visibly relieved, though still a bit flummoxed. “You’re really cool with all this?” he asked.
“Hell yes I am! And frankly, I’m a little surprised that you thought I’d be pissed. Have I not encouraged you to get together with her?”
“Well . . . yeah, I know, but . . . sometimes people say that they’re okay with things, but then when they actually happen, it’s a different story.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. Fortunately, this is not one of those situations. So are you two dating now?”
He held his hands up. “I don’t know,” he said. “We haven’t really talked about it. I know I’d like to, but I’m not sure if she’s just totally weirded out by the whole thing. And I know she’s worried about what you’ll think of it.”
“You can tell her that I think it’s a great idea. If you want, I’ll tell her myself.”
“No, no, I can do it. I’m just really relieved that you’re being so cool about this!” And he laughed, and I could tell that he’d thought I was going to take it much worse than I had.
Chapter Twenty-One
> Tessa
After Lindsey and I were done with classes for the day, we went to the library to do some work. I finished reading Beloved for my feminist fiction class and then I wrote out a bullet list of everything that I had due. There was no way I was going to be able to write two different articles for submission to the Daily Journal, so I’d just write the one and send it to that email address and hope that it was the last time that person would ever be in contact with me.
“What’s that?” Lindsey asked, looking over at my notebook.
“It’s just all the shit I have to try to finish before the end of the semester.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Damn, that’s a lot. I was freaking out because I have two papers to finish.”
I sighed. “I wish I had just two. I’ve got a start on pretty much everything, except the article.”
“You should write something totally ridiculous,” she said. “Something like . . . oh, I don’t know, maybe something like what it says about your personality if you hang the toilet paper over the roll or under the roll.”
I laughed. “I don’t think so. What does it say about your personality, though?”
“I have no clue! It’s totally ridiculous. But it would serve that person right, whoever the hell they are. You could just make something up.”
“Maybe I should.”
“It could be something like you’d read in The Onion.”
“Except those articles are actually funny. Whoever sent this doesn’t deserve something that people are going to like. I’ll think of something.”
When Lindsey and I were done studying, we packed up our stuff. She had parked in the smaller north parking lot, so we went opposite directions after we left the library. I dug through my purse for my phone to text Leo and see if he was still here or if he’d already left for the day. I tapped at the screen as I walked along, glancing up every so often to make sure I didn’t run into something.
I heard some commotion, and as I rounded the corner into the main quad, I saw that there was a group of people hanging out by the benches. It was Nick, Seth, and a bunch of their friends.
They were horsing around, and Nick shoved Seth, and Seth shoved him back, and then Nick tackled him, and they both went sprawling. They were laughing as they hit the ground, throwing their backpacks off their shoulders so they could really try to get each other into a headlock or something. Seth’s backpack was open, though, and when it hit the ground, his stuff spilled out; a spiral notebook, a three-ring binder, a few textbooks. The wind caught some of the loose papers and they spiraled away. I made a grab for one, but it skittered just out of reach; I stomped my foot down on another stapled bunch right as it crossed my path.
“Hey!” I said. “Your shit’s blowing away!”
They stopped and Nick looked right at me. “Did you just offer to blow me?” he yelled, and his friends cracked up.
Seth seized the moment and pounced on him, and they went back to wrestling. I picked up the paper and was about to grab for another when the words on the page happened to catch my attention. Civic engagement is a crucial component of a healthy, functioning democracy.
I kept reading, the words familiar, even though it was Seth’s name at the top of the paper. I had written this! This was the second paper I had written for whoever it was that had been sending me those letters. I stopped reading and stared at the two of them, who had all but forgotten about me. Seth had sent those letters? It seemed impossible. He was probably the last person on earth I would’ve ever suspected of doing something like that. But the proof was right there.
“Tessa!” Nick yelled. Seth still had him in a headlock. “Come on; join us!”
More laughter ensued. Some of the guys looked in my direction to see if I was actually going to take Nick up on his offer, but when I didn’t move, they looked back to Seth and Nick. No one seemed to notice that I had the paper in my hands, and no one said a thing when I walked away with it.
I hurried to my car, and when I got in, I threw my backpack into the passenger seat, and I read the whole paper. My words seemed almost unrecognizable to me, but they were most certainly the words I had written, despite the fact that it was Seth’s name at the top.
I put the paper down on my backpack. What was I supposed to do? Go back and confront him? What would I say? My stomach muscles clenched. If Seth was the one that had been sending those emails, then it meant that he also knew about Leo and me. But how? How the hell had he figured that out?
I decided not to confront him about it, at least not right now, when he was with all of his friends. I got my keys out of my purse and I saw that Leo had texted back. He was out doing some errands, but he’d be back to the apartment in a little while, and was there anything special I wanted for dinner tonight?
Whatever you get is fine, I typed back. I wanted to call him and tell him right then and there, but I decided to wait. It wasn’t the sort of news I wanted to break to him over the phone, when he was standing in line at the grocery store.
As I drove, I wracked my brain trying to figure out how it was that Seth could have found out about Leo and me. Seth barely even noticed me; the only reason he knew I existed was because Nick and I had been seeing each other. Or at least, that’s what I had always assumed.
Maybe I should email him, at the anonymous email address he’d set up. I know it’s you, Seth, I’d write, and I’m not going to write any more of your damn papers!
But even though I knew who it was, I still couldn’t call him out like that. Because he could still tell the dean about Leo and me, and that was really the main concern here. That was the one thing that I couldn’t let happen.
When I got back to the apartment, I went into the living room and got my laptop out. It was very tempting to at least send an email to that address, maybe the only thing being the subject line saying HI, SETH or something like that.
When Leo got home, he came in, whistling, carrying two bags of groceries. “I was thinking I’d make Fettuccine Alfredo,” he called from the kitchen. “How does that sound?”
“That’d be great.”
I set my laptop on the couch cushion and got up, carrying Seth’s paper with me. “How was your day?”
He came over and gave me a kiss. “It was good. How was yours?”
“Mostly good. I found out something interesting today.”
“Oh yeah?” He went back over to the counter and pulled a container of strawberries out from one of the grocery bags. “And what might that be?”
“I know who’s sending me those letters,” I said.
He paused, his hand on the refrigerator door handle. “Who?”
“Seth.”
“Seth Douglass?”
“Yeah, him.”
Leo raised an eyebrow skeptically. “How do you know that? Why would Seth do that? He doesn’t really seem like he’d have the forethought to do something like that.”
I held the paper out. “Because this came flying out of his backpack today when he and Nick were horsing around.”
Leo put the strawberries down and took the paper, reading the first few lines. “Ah,” he said. He put the paper down. “You know, it kind of surprises me that his teacher for this class doesn’t realize there’s no way in hell that Seth would have written something like this. Mainly because it’s coherent and very well written.”
“Maybe the teaching assistant is grading it.”
“Even if it was the teaching assistant, I think anyone who was actually capable of reading words would know that Seth Douglass didn’t write this. For fuck’s sake! Well. Now you know who did it.”
“I know. But does that really change anything? I mean, I’ve still got to write that last assignment.”
“Fuck that,” Leo said, shaking his head. “You’re not writing the next paper. Are you kidding me? Now that we know who is behind this? No fucking chance.”
“I want to, though,” I said. And I did, because suddenly I had an idea. I knew exactly the article I was g
oing to write.
“Are you serious?” Leo asked. “You want to? Why? Why the hell do you want to help him out any more than you already have? You are way nicer of a person than I ever could be. Seth better hope I don’t run into him because I’ll probably fucking deck him.”
“No you won’t,” I said. “Because that would probably get you into more trouble than anything that we’re doing here. No, I have a plan.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“I’ll show you. When I’m done with it.”
I could tell he was wishing I just would’ve given him the okay to go kick Seth’s ass, but that wasn’t how I wanted to handle it.
He shook his head. “It might be Seth that’s reaping the benefit from this,” he said, “but it wasn’t him who had the idea for it. No fucking way.”
“Really?”
He stopped and looked at me, raising his eyebrows. “You might not know Seth that well, but I don’t think he’d really have the forethought to do something like this. The fact that the letters you’ve gotten haven’t had any typos makes it blatantly fucking obvious that there is no way Seth wrote these himself.”
“So who, then?”
Leo crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling for a second. “His fucking mother,” he said. “Of course. Carla Douglass.”
“You really think it was her?”
“Oh, I know it was. And you can go ahead and write that article if you want, but I am going to talk to his mother about this.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something, I’m sure. Carla Douglass.” He shook his head. “I can’t fucking believe it. What a bitch.”
“Stop,” I said. I didn’t really know Seth’s mother, but I had seen her around, and she seemed like a nice person. It was hard to think that she would do something like this, especially since she was also a teacher at the school and would probably get into a lot of trouble if word about this got out. “Don’t you think it would be better if I just did the last assignment and then we never talked about this again? It would be over and done with, and everyone could just move on with their lives?”