Page 26 of Brat Baby
He only has his laptop with him today and walks straight up to the podium after clapping Justin on the shoulder, seemingly finishing their conversation. The room goes silent with only a few coughs here and there as we wait for Professor King to start.
Just like last time, the presentation loads up and the lights dim in the room. Derek looks up at the students, gaze bouncing from one to another as he opens the lecture with a “Good morning,” and then an explanation of the topics we are going to cover today, which basically sounds like the first semester of my junior year.
Eventually, when it feels like I’m the last student he makes eye contact with, our eyes lock. His gaze dips down to my laptop and then pops back up to mine, his words never once faltering.
Honestly, I stopped listening the moment those dark brown eyes landed on mine. He could have been telling us the answersto the final exam for all I cared, because he was finally looking at me.
Unlike last time, I maintain my awareness. The room doesn’t dip in and out. Instead, I hold my breath, waiting to see if he will give me more. Anything. A nod. A pursing of his lips. Anything at all.
However, just like last time, he doesn’t indicate that he knows me. At all.
Okay, well, I guess we haven’t quite left Ignore Emery Station, then.
For the next two hours, I take overly diligent notes, although I’m easily remembering everything he goes over. It’s more like reviewing than teaching, and I’m so fucking glad it comes back to me easily, because I’d be horrified if he called on me and I’d forgotten any of the concepts.
Which is exactly what is happening to the dude sitting behind me. He stutters out an answer that is not going well for him. The secondhand embarrassment taking over my system is almost unbearable, and I need it to fucking stop right now. So, I quickly enlarge my font and shift my laptop to the side so he can read my screen.
After the guy gets my answer out, I glance at Derek, who’s glaring at me. I fight the urge to shrink in my seat as I drag my laptop back in front of me. The glare lasts long enough that the students around me shift in their seats.
The TA coughs and Derek jolts in place before glancing back at his laptop on the podium in front of him. He takes a deep breath before continuing with the last ten minutes of his lecture.
“And we are done for today.” Derek checks his watch. “It looks as though we have a few minutes remaining. If anyone has questions, you are welcome to come down, and either myself or Justin will be able to provide you with the answers.”
There is a surge of movement as students start packing up around me, but I just take a minute to myself. CanIgo ask questions? If I go down there and line up to talk to him, will he answer or will he pass me off to Justin?
My thoughts are interrupted by a tap on my shoulder.
I turn in my seat to find the no-answers guy offering me a smile. The first thing I notice about him isn’t his perfectly straight smile or his floppy blond hair that looks like something out of a sweet rom-com movie. Nope. It’s the black and aqua jacket he’s wearing. He’s a jock.
“Hey, thanks for before,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Will.”
I take his hand. “Emery.”
He holds on to my hand a bit too long, and I raise an eyebrow at him. He grins, not even a little bit repentant. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting my savior to be so beautiful.”
I laugh, caught off guard by his flirting, and pull my hand from his grasp. “Do cheesy-ass lines like that usually work?”
He relaxes back into his chair, in that charming guy kind of way where they lean back on one arm and kind of slump in their chair. “You tell me, that’s the first time I’ve tried that one.”
I have to purse my lips together to contain my smile as I shake my head. “Nope, not even a little bit.”
But if I’m honest with myself, Will’s line may have worked on me—if I wasn’t wrapped up in four older men. Which reminds me… I turn back to the front of the room to look for Derek, but he’s gone.
“So, Emery, what are you doing for lunch?”
Chapter 15
Emery
By the time I get back to the dorm, I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Having so much time off between graduation and college has left my brain feeling like it has forgotten how to absorb information. My hands type the notes, barely keeping up withthe lecturers—the pace my psychology prof goes could never be described as slow.
Are ice baths for hands a thing?
And now that the schedule for all four of my classes is no longer theoretical, I can start planning out when I’m going to study and get assignments done—something Mrs. Mitchum taught me.
I made zero detours between psych and home, knowing I had the leftover Thai in the fridge, which thankfully got me out of having lunch with Will. Not that he seemed like a bad guy or anything; I just don’t have time for all of that right now. Especially when I have no idea what’s going on with the—my?—daddies. The men? The guys? Urgh. I still haven’t figured out how to refer to them in my head.
