My Rebound (On My Own #2) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,31

hand. “Stop. It’s not your fault. You followed your advisor. You thought you were doing everything right, and you still made it into university with a full-ride.”

“I did,” I whispered. “But it’s the point of the thing.”

“Oh, I believe you. I understand. But you’re fine. You don’t need to worry about what Hunter did. Though Hunter should worry about what he’s doing because I want to kick his ass.”

“I’ll hold your coat for you,” Nessa said, nodding. “He doesn’t get to just change his mind like that, right? I mean, the professor. What did Hunter do to make him pick him?”

“Well, first off, Hunter has a penis,” I said, and Nessa rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me?” Pacey said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Like you haven’t noticed.”

“That Hunter Williams, III has a penis? I haven’t seen it.”

I blushed and shook my head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you must have noticed how Dr. Michaels treats people. He likes guys better than girls. He doesn’t believe women should be in the hard sciences. Thinks they should be in the squishy ones if in science at all.”

“Hard and squishy?” Nessa asked.

Pacey groaned. “It’s an archaic comparison in which only women are allowed to be in biology and the softer sciences that are warming and more like homemakers. And that men are supposed to be in the hard-thinking, analytical branches of science. That is if women are allowed in science at all.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “It’s ridiculous. But it’s so ingrained in the industry that even I was starting to think along those lines when I first started college. I was wrong. The internal misogyny that comes with just being in STEM or any school of thought at this point is ridiculous. I’m sure you have to deal with it in your classes.”

“Oh, yes, because men write hard literature, and women write fanciful nonsense. I understand. And it’s ridiculous. So, Dr. Michaels chose Hunter because he has a penis.”

“That sounds about right. I mean, Hunter is brilliant, I’ll give him that, but he’s also a jerk. And always gets what he wants. And treats me like shit. And I hate it. And now, he’s taking away everything and ruining my plans. Well, not everything. Sanders took part of my future plans away, but Hunter’s taking away my choices, and my schedule, and everything that I worked for. I hate him. And I hate the fact that he’s even taking up space in my mind. Because he shouldn’t.”

“No, he shouldn’t,” Pacey said, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “No, and that’s the problem. I don’t know. I have lists of what the others are planning, but not everybody can have more than one student. And pickings are slim.”

“It can’t be that someone doesn’t end up with an advisor, so they can’t graduate,” Nessa added. “Because that’s ridiculous. How is that fair?”

“Everyone will get an advisor, but if I don’t find the specialty I want, I’ll end up in a field that I’m either not prepared for, or something that’s not going to look good on my transcript if I want to focus in a certain area of study for grad school. This can really hinder everything, and I’m pissed off.”

“You should be,” Pacey said. “I wish there was something I could do, but even I need a minor thesis to get mine done, and I don’t know if my professor’s taking on anyone else.”

I shook my head. “I have a meeting with Dr. Jackson later,” I said.

Pacey’s smile widened. “Good. Is she taking on more?”

“I don’t know. But she’s meeting with me, at least, and I have to count that as something. It’s not exactly the four-year plan that I wanted,” I said.

“No, it isn’t, but it’s somewhere close.”

“Dr. Jackson’s your professor?” Nessa asked, leaning forward.

Pacey nodded. “Yes, and she’s wonderful. I know she already has two major students, and I’m her minor one. Maybe she’ll take another.”

“I hope so. There are a couple of others on my list, but everything’s filling up so quickly. Because we’ve all been working towards this for how many years now? And now I feel like I’m starting over from scratch. This isn’t where I want to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Pacey said again, softly.

“Me, too,” I replied, staring at him. He just looked at me, and I felt like I could breathe again. Like everything would be okay, somehow. How could he do