The Dare - Elle Kennedy Page 0,38

I definitely know elementary education is where I want to be. The kids are terrific.” I shake my head in amazement. “And they learn so fast. It’s incredible to watch their development over such a short period of time.”

I always knew I wanted to be teacher. Mom briefly tried to convince me to pursue a professor track like her, but that was a non-starter. The idea of getting up in front of a room full of college kids every day, being dissected under their scrutiny—I’d be breaking out in hives. No, with little kids, they’re engineered to see teachers as authority figures first. If you treat them fairly and with kindness and compassion, they love you. Sure, there are always the brats and bullies, but at that age, kids aren’t nearly as judgmental.

“What about you?” I ask. “How’s work?”

Mom offers a wry smile. “We’re almost through the worst of the Chernobyl effect. Unfortunately, it also means the research windfall has mostly dried up. Nice while it lasted, though.”

I laugh in response. The HBO series was the best and worst thing to happen to Mom’s nuclear science and engineering department at MIT since Fukushima. The sudden popularity brought a renewed energy to anti-nuke demonstrators who started gathering near campus or outside conferences. It also meant the research grants came pouring in, along with every fanboy who thought he was going to save the world. Except then they realize there’s a lot more money in robotics, automation, and aerospace engineering, and switch majors before their parents find out their tuition checks were feeding fantasies brought on by the guy who wrote Scary Movie 4. Good show, though.

“We’ve also finally filled Dr. Matsoukas’ old position. We hired a young woman from Suriname who studied with Alexis at Michigan State.”

Dr. Alexis Branchaud, or Aunt Alexis as she was known when she used to stay with us during visiting lectures at MIT, is like Mom’s evil French twin. The two of them with a bottle of Bacardi 151 were a natural disaster. For a while, I wondered if maybe Aunt Alexis was the reason I rarely saw my mom date.

“It’ll be the first time the department will be majority female.”

“Nice. Smashing atoms and the patriarchy. And what about extra-curriculars?” I ask.

She grins. “You know, normal kids don’t want to hear about their mothers’ sex lives.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You have a point.”

“It’s big of you to say so.”

“Honestly,” she says, “I’ve been swamped with work. The department is overhauling the curriculum for the master’s thesis next year and Dr. Rapp and I have been taking care of Dr. Matsoukas’ advisees. Elaine set me up with her husband’s racquetball partner last month, but I draw a hard line at middle-aged men who still bite their fingernails.”

“I have a fake boyfriend.”

I don’t know why I blurt that out. Probably low blood sugar. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning and only had a bowl of grapes for dinner last night while I was studying for a quiz in diagnostic and corrective reading strategies.

“Okay.” My mother looks justifiably baffled. “Define fake boyfriend.”

“Well, it started off as a dare, and then it sort of became a joke. Now we might not be friends anymore because I might have gotten mad at him for trying to like me for real and I keep ignoring his text messages.”

“Uh-huh,” is her response. Her ocean-blue eyes narrow in that way they do when she’s evaluating a puzzle. My mom’s always been brilliant. Easily the smartest person I know. But when it comes to me, I’ve never felt like we were working off the same reading material. “Have you tried liking him back?”

“Definitely not.”

Okay, maybe that isn’t true. I know if I let myself, I would absolutely develop feelings for Conor. I’ve been replaying our kiss over and over again in my head since the second he dropped me off at home. I could barely concentrate on studying last night because I can’t stop thinking about the firmness of his lips, the heat of his body, the feel of his rock-hard cock pressing against my belly.

There was no denying he’d wanted me that night. He asked me to go home with him because he wanted to fuck me, no doubt about that.

But that’s the problem. I know the minute I give in, Conor will wake up from this daydream to realize he should be with someone much hotter. I’ve seen the girls that the guys on his team date—I’d stick out like a fat sore

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