by Ivy Jordan
“I enjoy the courses. I’m having a lot of fun with history, and I love English,” I said. “Some of the writers are amazing. Have you gone over your reading list? You know you’ll be tested on it at the end of the semester.”
“I haven’t,” he admitted.
“It’s crazy long. You have to get to that as soon as you can. You’ll enjoy it. They go through all of the classics—Dickens, Chaucer, and they move into French literature.”
“Is it dry?” He asked.
“Oh, anything but. They choose the best pieces. The poets are particularly interesting—drug-addled buffoons, all of them, but they could write. You’ll love Rimbaud. He was a French poet.”
“What was he like?”
“An opium and ether addict, no better than a bum, but he revolutionized poetry. It was dark and absurd and vulgar.”
“Really? I thought those were mostly stuffy academic types.”
“No, not at all. In fact, some of his best work was written when he was an adolescent, and this guy—he smoked cheap tobacco and went on drinking binges. He was the furthest thing from stuffy.”
“He does sound interesting. I guess I never spent the time to get into that kind of thing, but I shouldn’t have to read all this crap. All the stuff they make us do in school is pointless.”
“I think it’s enriching, but I know what you’re saying.”
“That’s why I went lax,” he said. “I just don’t see the point in doing all of this.”
“I don’t disagree with you. Half the jobs you can get with your degree could be performed quite easily without it. But you can’t let that kind of thing get to you. Sometimes it’s better to look at the trees rather than the forest. Otherwise, you won’t get any peace.”
“It’s hard when it’s staring you right in the face.”
“See, that’s the thing. Most people aren’t smart enough to see things for the way they are. That’s a sign of superior intelligence, and it’s awesome, honestly,” I smiled, “but being intelligent is a burden. Smart people see society’s flaws and all of the stupid delusions that normal people have, and it’s hard. You get jaded.”
“I do. How do you deal with it?”
“I focus on myself and avoid other people, but it’s not enough. It’s hard to respect people. Look at the students. They’re clowns.”
“They are.” He popped a fry in his mouth.
“You’re different. I’m not sure I fully understand you, but you’re not dumb, and you’re not hormonal like the rest of the team. I don’t get it.”
“I’m not sure I understand you either, Ava, but I’m enjoying getting to know you.”
I went straight back to my burger and focused on it and nothing else. He was easy to talk to, with an open, casual demeanor. He wasn’t urging me into anything. Half the time guys would race through the food to see if I’d screw them. He didn’t seem to want to leave. He didn’t get close or try to touch me. Our fingers never brushed. He wasn’t playing any games.
The plate was too big. There were too many fries and way too much cheese. I barely finished half of it. Channing went through his like it was nothing. He probably had a special, high-calorie diet. I’d seen jocks like him. They ate like cows.
He was different in the diner, more open. He let loose in a different way. He didn’t want to bring me home for the night, but he wanted something. I wanted to know what. He plopped his last fry into his mouth and downed the rest of his water.
“You know, I have a lot to go over. You’re going to hate me tomorrow.”
“Trust me; I don’t care. Your sessions are a refresher.”
“Are they?”
“Yeah, you’re easy to be around. Your sessions go by quickly.”
“I was worried it was going to be terrible,” he said. “I’m glad I got you. I don’t know why the other guys are giving you such a hard time.” He left money on the table and walked me out.
“Do you stay in the dorms?” he asked when we got out front.
“No, I have my own place.”
“Oh, well, I stay in the dorms. Thanks for coming tonight.”’
“I had fun.” I walked back to my apartment to confine myself to my room. I had three tests to worry about, and two papers. It would take me all night to get my studying done.
Chapter Thirteen
Channing
“Have I ever told you how much I hate this class?” I finally got Mike to sit in back with me during chemistry.
“Shut up. She’s going to start.”
Hamburg started setting our tests on the corner of her desk. We were allowed to look at them during the entire period, but we couldn’t get them until the end. It was her way of adding to the suspense. She loved seeing the looks on our faces when we picked them up.
That was her one indulgence. She kept her lectures short now. She said that a lot of the idiots were gone, so she mostly stuck to the science. It was refreshing.
After going over the chapter material, she turned off the projector and walked around to the front of her desk. “Six of you failed the test. For two of you, that’s your last straw. You’re out of here. What are you people thinking? Read the material.” Hamburg took a moment to look at everyone. Then she dismissed the class.
“You have to show me your grade when you pick up your test,” I told Mike.
He got his bag and stood up to leave. “You have to show me your test too.”
“Fine,” I said, “we’ll do it. I’ve been working hard. I have nothing to hide.” We walked down the steps towards Hamburg’s desk at the bottom. I snatched my paper up, closed my eyes, and handed it to Mike.
“You got a B.”
“You say that like you’re disappointed,” I said.
“You could’ve gotten an A.”
“I worked my butt off for that B, so screw you.” Mike was holding his paper. I grabbed it out of his hand. “You got a C.”
Mike took his paper away from me and started to walk away really fast. I sidestepped him and caught him in the middle of the hallway. “Are you going to pass the class?” I asked.
“Yes, it was just one bad test.”
“You need to work harder. Stop focusing on nailing your tutor and listen to her.” He followed me out into the courtyard. “You know she told me to tell you guys to stop hitting on her.”
“She did?”
“She says that the guys are relentless and that there’s nothing she can do. That’s not okay, Mike, and we both know you’re doing it.”
“It’s that bet,” Mike said. He took a seat at our table. “It’s getting out of control.”
“And what about you? She won’t get with you.”
“I’ve been pretty quiet lately. I know I don’t have a chance.”
“You’d better,” I said.
“Alright, I get it. You think you should tell the other players to stop? It might be better to let them go on making asses out of themselves.”
“No, they’re torturing the poor girl. She can’t stand it. She must’ve been desperate if she had to ask me.”
“The guys are going to hit on her no matter what. They all want to win the bet.”
“I hate that you’re right. She’s going to have to deal with this crap all year.”
“Not if you win the bet,” Mike said.
“I don’t even know if she’s interested.”
“She went to dinner with you. Of course she is.”
“You’re probably right. At dinner, she acted like we were just two friends eating together. I don’t think she’s open to romance at all.” I checked the time on my phone.
“But you want to win that bet, don’t you?” Mike asked.
“I don’t think any of us will win the bet.” I started to get up.
“Maybe she’s asexual.”
“She’s not asexual.” I walked off to go to the tutoring center. I was three minutes late when I walked into the study room.
“You’re late,” Ava said when I sat down.
“I’m three minutes late.”
“Oh, so you think you can just walk in here whatever time you want to.” She was playing with me.
“I pay you by the hour. We’re wasting time.” I took out my books. “Did you have fun at the diner?”
“I did. It was nice to eat something that wasn’t made on campus.” Ava hurriedly looked back down at the book. “What are you working on?”
“I’m still on literary devices. These things are evil. I don’t know what half of them are. When I look them up, I can’t understand a thing the book is saying. You’re going to have to explain it all to me.”
I had a list of problem terms written on a yellow notepad I was carrying around. She explained every single one of them to me; she never once hesitated. She always knew the answers. It didn’t seem like there was a single subject that tripped her up.
I couldn’t believe that she could hold that much information in her head. It seemed impossible to me that she was tutoring me in the same classes that she took a year before. In that short amount of time, she had memorized the material so well that she could recite it. Half the time she didn’t even use the book. She just went by memory.
I listened and took the relevant notes, but I was stuck in the little pauses when she’d stop talking, and the tiny sounds our bodies would make. In those moments, there was a connection. I was starting to think that it might be enough to pull her in.
We were going over the English monarchy when I interrupted her. “I got a B on my chem test.” I pulled it out of my bag to show her. “Hamburg didn’t even write me a mean note.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“I’m going to pass,” I announced, “and it’s all because of you, so I’m taking you out.”
“That’s nice.” She pointed back down at my civ book.
“No, I mean it. I’m taking you out for a real dinner. This is an accomplishment.”
“I’m too busy.”
“I said I was taking you out. I didn’t say that you had a choice in the matter. You’re going—Wednesday night.”
“I won’t let you dictate my schedule to me.”
“You’re coming, though, right?”
“Not if I don’t have any choice in the matter.” She kept her eyes on the book.
“Would you like to go out with me Wednesday night?” I asked.
“Yes, I would love to.”
“Good. l told you, you didn’t have any other choice.” I grinned.
She looked at me, then back down at the book. “I could’ve said no.”
“Back to work.” I glared at her and pointed at the book playfully. The rest of the period, she’d read, then look up at me. I could see her staring out of the corner of her eye. When our session ended, I tested her and got up to leave without saying anything.
She didn’t do anything at first, as if she didn’t actually expect me to leave so fast. She didn’t even have her things together. Then she stammered a quick goodbye before I walked out.
Chapter Fourteen
Ava
I was starting to get bored of the library booth, so I started using study rooms. There I posted myself up with a bag of chips, and a cup of coffee. I was surviving on the stuff now. Coffee was more important than air. It was the only thing keeping me going.
The stuff had its side effects, of course. My hands were shaking, and my thoughts were roaming. I kept my eyes on my anatomy book, but I kept thinking about Channing. This was definitely a date. I couldn’t deny it at this point.
I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I didn’t have time to take in some shaggy-haired beast. I had classes to deal with, but I liked him. He had substance. Most of the other guys in school were either failing or too busy to date. It was rare to see a guy juggling classes and special activities the way he was.
What attracted me most about him was how casual he was. Everything was so effortless for him. He decided that he was going to pass his classes, so he was doing what it takes. There was no struggle, no hissy fit. He was capable of passing his classes; he just wasn’t.
That was the way he approached everything in life. He was a machine. He could do anything he put his mind to. It was extraordinary to see. I wanted to understand him and get inside his head. Life for him was simple.
He didn’t have to try. He had everything taken care of—work, school, football. Even if he left school, he’d be fine. His parents didn’t worry about what they were going to eat or how they were going to buy food. They had everything they needed.
Channing was an escape. Talking to him made me feel like I was part of his world. He didn’t have to worry about anything. He could just be, and I was struggling to survive.
It was almost unfair. Even if he was in my position, he’d still be a thousand times more capable than I was. He’d find a way to succeed, and he wouldn’t have to try as nearly as hard as I would.
That’s what intrigued me the most about him. I knew a superior person when I met them. He wasn’t a celebrity, or a power figure, not in my eyes, but he was special, and if he worked hard, he could make something of himself.
I was nobody. I would always be nobody, no matter how hard I worked, but people would remember him. Everyone is school knew his name. They all wanted to talk to him and get to know him. That’s why I didn’t understand why he was taking me out. I was the prude that lived in the library.
I didn’t have any friends. I didn’t drink, and all I cared about were my classes. What did Channing see in me? He could have any girl in the school. Why was I special? I didn’t question his motives. I could meet him as my equal, so it wasn’t completely out of bounds for him to ask me, but it was strange.
A guy like Channing would want a flashy girl with nice clothes and a good rack, somebody he could shower with gifts and dress up like a doll. Men didn’t like intelligent, or pushy. They hated me. They thought I was rude, or conceited.
The football players were different. They just wanted to screw me. I got that all the time, but I never got asked out on dates. I was too professional and serious. I didn’t want to make myself seem approachable, so I avoid personal talk. I stuck to business. For the most part, it was enough to put people off. Sometimes the random comment would get through, but it never led to anything like this.
I was nervous. My legs were shaking now, and I couldn’t focus on the book. My nails were messy. The tips were different lengths, and my fingers were frayed. My hair hadn’t been cut in months, either. I never thought about things like that. I was too worried about studying.
I took out my phone and dialed his number to call him. I had to cancel. I had too much work to do, and I needed time to myself or I was going to go insane. Channing would just have to wait. I pressed the talk button, then ended the call right away.
I’d call him later. Maybe I would go. Nicole was always talking about how I spent too much time in the library, and she was right. I needed to get out of that room or else I was going to go crazy. A person could only handle so much.
I called Nicole. “Hello?”
“Nicole? Oh my God. You have to save me.”
“Why, what happened? Did you get stuck in a book?”
“I’m seeing double. I’m in 36A.”
“Fine,” she said.
“Can you bring me coffee, too? I’m out.”
“Okay.” She hung up.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I couldn’t get through a single paragraph. I was too worried about what I was doing. Channing was dangerous. What would happen if I did end up liking him? We’d spend more time together, and I’d spend less time studying.
I couldn’t sacrifice my grades for a football player. He wasn’t worth it. I didn’t even know why I was going in the first place. I was about to call him when a knock on the door jolted me out of it. I saw Nicole’s head through the window.
“Come in,” I called out.
Nicole came in and handed me a cup of coffee. “Is this where you’re living?”
> “I need to leave,” I slammed my coffee. “I’m going crazy. I can’t think.”
“Why, what’s going on? You look like you’re ready to jump out of your skin.”
“It’s nothing. I just have a lot of work to do.”
“Ava.” She sat down across from me. “What is going on?”
“Alright.” I threw my hands up. “I have a date tomorrow.”
“A date?” Her face went from neutral to excited. “You have a date? Dear Jesus, how did this happen? You don’t talk to anyone. How did you get a date? Wait. No,” she gasped. “You didn’t.”
“What?”
“Are you going on a date with Channing? A real live fucking date? Oh my God.” She jumped up. Her eyes sliced down my body. “No, you’ve got to come with me. You can’t go with Channing like that.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s go.” She stood up and motioned for me to come with her.
I sighed and started putting my books in my bag. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but we both know you haven’t eaten anything but vending machine food all day. We’ll decide after lunch. Come on; you’re taking me to Nico’s.”
We drove off-campus to a grimy Mexican place with stained cafeteria tiles and a horchata dispenser next to the cash register. We both ordered super nachos, a divine mix of grilled meat and every topping imaginable.
I always added pickled carrots. They came in a jar with whole jalapenos, and they went perfectly with the nachos. I sat down and added a few strips, then drenched the whole thing in green chili sauce. “This was the best idea you’ve had in a long time,” I told Nicole.
“So, nails, clothes, hair, and makeup. You’re going to have to get your makeup done tomorrow, so it doesn’t get messed up. I’m sure I can get you in some time in the morning.”
“I have class,” I said, “and you’re not hiring a makeup specialist. I can do my own.”