“Anyway.” He clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk. “Gayle wanted me to ask if you’d be interested in joining us.”
Gayle, as in Professor Gayle.
I frowned. He’d said the day before that she’d called in some favors because of my dad. Understanding flooded over me. This was because of my dad. “She’s doing my dad a favor?”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Uh…yeah, but it’s not all because of your dad. Before your, uh, before what happened last year, you were in the top five percent of your class. Professor Gayle feels you’d fit in perfectly with the group, and…” He leaned closer and dropped his voice, though no one else was in the office. “Between you and me, it’s worth it. Any extra time it might take, and even dealing with some of the egos, it’s all worth it. We really do help each other, and you’ll get to know the professors on more of a one-to-one basis. It’s good to have a professor know your name and care about what happens with your future. It’s really good.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. My eyes wandered around the room and found a picture of a stunning woman: Long, beautiful golden hair. White teeth. Perfect smile. Sparking blue eyes. She was slender with a heart-shaped face. I nodded to the photograph. “Is that Professor Gayle?”
He followed my gaze. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“Is she married?”
“No.”
His answer was quick, quick enough that it seemed Mr. Fuller had a little crush himself. Professor Gayle looked to be in her thirties, and I got the same let-down feeling that filled me whenever someone used me to get to my dad. Maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but I was betting Professor Gayle wanted to date my dad, or she already was and was looking out for his kid. Either way, I knew my answer.
I stood up, gathering my bag. “I can’t.”
He stood with me, looking surprised. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, going for the door. “Thanks for the invite, but I just can’t right now.”
“Oh.”
I glanced back before opening the door. He stared at the desk, his mouth turned down.
My answer had stunned him. “Thank you again,” I said.
“Yeah.” His head bobbed up and down. “Uh, let me know if you ever change your mind.”
People didn’t turn chances like that down. That much was obvious. But I had to.
Women used to come to our house to see my father, and I was used to them fawning over me because they thought it would get them closer to him. My dad had a great job. We had money, and also an inheritance from my mother, which included money she’d received from her parents when they passed away five years ago. These more recent women could tell there was money somewhere, and my dad was handsome.
I resigned myself to the fact that he was going to date, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t have to like it, and I certainly didn’t want it having an impact on my academic life.
My studies were mine alone. No dad. No wife wannabes. I wanted my dad’s identity and mine to be separate. That meant keeping my head down, trying to keep quiet about my last name, and doing what I knew how to do: study my ass off and make my mom proud.
Thinking about living my own life reminded me of Jason, and I pulled out my phone to send him a text: You still mad at me?
I’m not replying to you.
You just did.
To tell you that I’m not replying to you.
So you’re mad?
I waited a beat. No text came. But just as I slid my phone back into my bag, I heard it buzz again. I pulled it back out to see that Jason had replied, Yes.
I dropped it back in my bag with no reply. There was no point. When Jason got mad, I had to let him stew. He’d get over it, eventually. I was on my way to the food court for lunch before my next class when another text came. Jason again: I won’t be mad by the weekend. We should hang out.
I replied with a smiley face, then really put my phone away.
The food court was set up like the ones at a mall. Fast-food booths lined the outside walls, and tables, chairs, and couches covered the middle. A large fountain filled the area next to the main entrance, and a river wound