Learning Curve

Tuesday, October 15th

Scottie

Another day of English class and another day of sitting on the complete opposite side of the room from Finn. Only this time, it feels different.

More…final.

I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about the way we left things in the Kelly Financial office all weekend in Ithaca and trying to make peace with it. Surprisingly, now that I’ve had time to process, I don’t actually think Finn is ever trying to be hurtful. I think he’s drawn to me just like I’m drawn to him, but the demons he fights inside are too powerful to overcome. It’s why he plays me hot and cold, and it’s why when we are together, everything feels so right.

Unfortunately, it’s also why I know I have to find a way to get over him. The constant pull to be with him and the overwhelming urge to be his fixer is beyond unhealthy. I’m a freshman in college, for shit’s sake.

I have to let it go.

Ace strides in just in the nick of time, as per usual, as Professor Winslow starts class by writing details of a new assignment on the board.

I take out my notebook and flip to the next open page, doodling a dog and a cat and a fish to pass the time—anything to supersede the urge to stare at Finnley Hayes.

Professor Winslow caps his marker and places it on the shelf below the board, turning to face the class and clasping his hands together after he does. I turn to a blank page and start paying attention.

“Okay, folks. We’ve reached the halfway point of our first semester—and you know what that means… It’s time to get serious. We’re going to be working on one of the most poignant works of self-reflection and the consequences of assumption I’ve ever read,” Professor Winslow explains while I do my best to listen. I did okay on our test last week, but I wouldn’t say my level of concentration was at its peak. And I really can’t afford to let my grades slip.

“Starting this week and continuing for the rest of the semester, I’m going to be breaking you up into groups of three to work on an extensive project. There will be multiple parts. There will be tests. There will, hopefully, be teamwork.”

I watch Professor Winslow’s carefree smile closely and find myself overanalyzing it entirely. It’s straight but still has character, and his jaw is stronger than most. It actually reminds me of Finn’s smile in some freakish way, if Finn weren’t so damn broody all the time.

“Before you leave today, you can pick up your copy of The Winter’s Tale down here at my desk. It is on loan from Dickson, so please take care of it, but other than that, nothing is off-limits. I expect each of you to become intimate with Shakespeare’s text.”

“Ooh,” Ace calls predictably. “Professor Winslow wants us to get intimate.”

“With the book,” Professor Winslow challenges with a wag of his finger. “But hey, since you’re in the mood to be the center of attention, Ace. I’ll start with you. You’ll be working with…” He leans down to consult his clipboard. “Shawn Nevil and Joey Gonzales.”

Ace frowns. “You want me to get intimate with guys?” Professor Winslow smiles. “Come on. Not even one girl? Like a male/male/female romance novel kind of thing?” Ace continues.

Even in my current mood, I snort. Finn’s eyes jump immediately to mine, and I have to hold my breath.

On the night of the fight, as we ate pizza in Finn and Ace’s dorm room, Ace mentioned that his mom’s main career is photography, but that she also writes romance novels. I downloaded one online after that and actually got a chance to read it while we were on the bus to and from Ithaca.

It had a whole lot of freaky shit in it, including, but not limited to, service pig voyeurism—which isn’t a surprise now that I’ve been around Ace and his dad a little bit—but it was also pretty romantic.

I just wish I’d stop turning whatever the hell is happening between Finn and me into some kind of romance novel of my own.

“Scottie Bardeaux,” Professor Winslow calls out then, startling my attention away from Finn.

I raise my hand. “Yes?”

“You’ll be working with…” He looks down at his sheet of paper again. “Finnley Hayes and Nadine Jones.”

I nod and smile, but on the inside, I’m dying. I’m talking organ trauma, internal bleeding, sliced and diced.

I’ve talked a big game about getting over and moving on and rising above. But an intimate rest of the semester with the girl who hates me and the guy I wish I could get over? Sounds just powerful enough to prove the in-control-of-her-emotions me is a liar.