Page 76 of Prosecco with My Professor
“No, thanks. You should go have fun without me.”
“What about just one of us?” Tessa asks. “I can bring work with me, and we can have a productivity retreat?”
“No, it’s okay. I think it would just be distracting.”
“Okay.” She chews her lip. “How is Santo taking it?”
I think back to finding him waiting for me at the top of the stairs, how his eyes were wide and his hair ruffled. “Not well.” I wonder if he’s called Bell or talked to Vincente or if he’s just stewing in his apartment next door in frustration and self-loathing. “He offered to help me, but I don’t think I can handle being around him right now. He’s lost his job, and it just feels…awful to see him. I can’t picture him helping me study. It feels too much like rubbing salt in a wound.” For both of us, I think.
As if reading my mind, Jade speaks up. “For you too. You lost a great opportunity. There will be more, but you are allowed to be mad.”
“I am mad,” I assure her. I’m mad at myself and Santo and the school and whoever reported Santo. But I try to push that emotion away, because who has the time? I have nine exams to prepare for.
I say goodbye to my friends, who give me lots of concerned looks and blow kisses through the screen. When we hang up, I grab my phone and reach out to someone whocanhelp me study.
Half an hour later Shonda and I meet to tackle strategy at one of the big tables in the university’s public spaces. She’s brought Thai takeaway and together, while we’re eating, I tell her I have to retake three tests.
“Does this have to do with Professor Offredi getting fired?” She looks up from her Pad Thai.
I nibble my lip. “Yeah.”
She tilts her head, and her gaze sharpens. “Like, in the bad way or the good way? Just because he was a kickass teacher doesn’t mean he wasn’t a secret prick.”
“Um…it was a mutual thing. I, uh…had fun.”
Shonda stares at me before throwing her head back and cackling. “Damn, girl.” She chuckles while picking a jalapeno out of her meal and then looks up at me through her lashes. “You two would be cute together. I kinda thought you liked him.”
My cheeks heat. “Well, regardless, I have to finish the term and pass these tests and then apply for more internships.”
“One step at a time,” she says.
We crack open our books (figuratively) and block out scheduling times from now up to our exams. And then, with bellies full but a lot on our plates, we start with Supply Chain Management.
We’re into our third block of studying and going over a section in our Negotiating class when Shonda leans over my laptop to look at the screen. “Why are you looking at triple bottom line stuff?”
“I’m just trying to refresh my memory. That’s one of the tests I have to retake.”
She settles back into her seat. “Just don’t lose focus on what you’re supposed to be studying.”
When the hour is up, it’s ten o’clock, and we’re both yawning. “All right, I’m calling it. Do you want to meet here tomorrow right after classes?”
“Sure,” I say. I don’t pack up my stuff, but instead, open up some of the course videos for Business Analytics, the first term class I took with Santo.
“Are you going to stay here?”
“Yeah.”
“Emma,” she says, and her tone is gentle and filled with concern. “Don’t forget you have to prioritize. Sleep is important.”
“I know. But this was the first class, and it’s been months. I feel like I’ve forgotten most of it, and these classes kind of build on each other, right?”
Shonda frowns. “I think you need to trust your memory more and take care of yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” I promise. “It’s only a couple weeks.”
With a sigh, Shonda says goodbye and heads home. I study for a few more hours, and this table is where I find myself spending all of my free time outside of class over the next two weeks. I pass my fourth term tests, but my grades are the lowest I’ve had all program. Shonda has an internship here in Rome, and she bullies me into continuing to meet her as often as I can; and she reviews the old class materials with me.
I don’t see Santo at all. I get home late and go right to bed every night. I have no idea what he’s doing, but I think if I was home to hear Oliver bark or the doors of the hallway opening and closing, I’d be thinking about Santo too much. I’m still upset, and even though he offered his help, I don’t need it. Shonda is helping me, and that’s enough.
