Page 107 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

“Trust me, guys don’t care as long as they’re getting laid.”

“Some guys might not care, but Sam doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. I don’t know. I’ve gotten to know him better, and I feel like me only wanting to be physical would hurt him.”

“What about doing it one more time to get it out of your system?”

My eyes narrow. “You’ve had that idea before and it still sounds terrible.”

“No, think about it.” Lisa shifts her position to face me. “It’s the Tuesday before break, and we’re not going home until Sunday. You and him can pick a day to meet up, fuck each other’s brains out, and then you’ll have almost a month to get over him before classes start up.”

I hope the pure skepticism on my face comes through clearly. “Lisa, that is the worst idea you’ve ever had. I can’t sleep with Sam again if I want to get over him.” I nod curtly to myself. “I’ll have to be strong.”

“Better buy some new running shoes, then.”

***

“Overall, I was very, very pleased with the outcome of this test,” Professor St. James says as she wraps up her recap of our exam. “So, for the next few weeks, don’t even think about Organic Chemistry. See you all next year.”

There’s a collective cheerful ovation from the class as everyone gets up to leave. I pack up quickly so I can make it out before Sam. I’ve decided it would be best if I don’t see him in case I lose my resolve and take Lisa’s advice.

Before I make it to the door, Professor St. James stops me. “Brynn, can you stay for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you and Sam before you leave.”

I inwardly groan. “Sure. No problem.”

As I stand at her desk, the professor turns away to wipe the white board, and Sam sidles up next to me. “How’d you do on the test?” he asks.

“Ninety-eight percent,” I say proudly. “You?”

He smirks, but it turns into a grimace. “Eighty-seven.”

“Wow, that’s low for you. What happened?”

“I was just…” He clears his throat. “Preoccupied.”

I suck in a breath as I nod. I wonder what he was preoccupied with? And why is he nervous to tell me? Maybe he was with another girl. Has he moved on since our arrangement has been over for a few weeks? I know he said he’s not the type to sleep around, but it has been a while. I guess I can’t blame him.

But why does that sting?

“Okay, thanks for sticking around,” Professor St. James says as she turns to face us. “I wanted to tell you both how much I appreciate the work you have put into this study group. The test scores have improved drastically. I couldn’t be happier.”

A beaming smile overtakes my face, dulling the pain of Sam replacing me.

“I know I said I couldn’t compensate you for your time, but I wanted to do something to show my gratitude, so here.” She hands Sam a small envelope. “It’s not much.”

He opens it and slides out a gift certificate to a local Italian restaurant. “Wow, a hundred bucks? Thank you.”

“Well, I thought you two deserved something, and while I can’t technically pay you, I could at least buy you both nice meal.” She shakes our hands. “Enjoy your holidays. I’ll see you next year.”

Sam and I both profusely thank the professor before we leave the room. As we walk the hall, Sam studies the gift certificate. “I can’t believe she did this.”

“I know. It’s really nice of her. And I love that restaurant.”

Sam’s gaze flicks between me and the certificate. “Well, then, here.” He holds it out to me. “You take it. You can go have a girls’ night.”

“What? No, Professor St. James gave it to us. You deserve to use it as much as I do.”

A flash of appreciation blazes in his irises. “Would you want to use it tonight?”

“Tonight?”

---