With special thanks to my pre-readers, ladylibre at FanFiction and EmmyDana at Wattpad. And ladylibre's advice and encouragement is making this story sing—she gives the best feedback! If you haven't read her stories yet, you need to! :)
Chapter 8
After Alice's rapid departure, I readied myself for bed before pulling out some homework that was due tomorrow. I still felt unsettled, more by Alice's warning about meeting James than about our parallel experiences with Edward. Somehow I felt more at peace after our discussion because not only was I not clinically insane, but Alice was also nearly as curious about Edward as I was.
And she was still holding back about Halloween, that little bugger….
So knowing the amazing accuracy of her visions regarding Edward, I felt more uneasy than ever about ignoring her warnings regarding meeting James tomorrow.
Distracted, I forced myself to tackle the class assignments, skating by with doing the bare minimum that allowed me to be adequately prepared for my Friday classes. Fortunately, my long lunch break would give me time to study for my afternoon courses, so I focused on my morning classes, managing to complete the assigned reading within two hours. Eyes heavy, I gratefully put away my books and crawled into bed.
Despite my exhaustion after all of the events and revelations of the day and evening, it took me at least an hour to fall asleep. Tossing and turning, often sitting up to pound my pillow into a more sleep-inducing shape, I huffed impatiently. I was simply unable to relax enough to sleep with different phrases from my talk with Alice cycling through my mind. While many images appeared in my mind's eye, the sweet words engraved in the pocket watch and the locket were definitely the most memorable.
Edward's parents must have loved each other greatly if his father had etched such loving and beautiful words into the locket, his wedding gift to Edward's mother.
I sighed, wishing once again for a love like that of Edward's parents and of my own parents. Losing my mom two years ago was the most traumatic event of my life, but watching my dad suffer along with her, experiencing mentally every pain that she physically felt, was heartbreaking.
My parents were made for one another—a perfect example of the truth of the old adage "opposites attract." And when my mother died, my father had died, too, in a way. They had been so different, yet their hearts had truly melded into one. Even now, when I looked into my dad's eyes, there was a dullness and emptiness there—as if half of his existence had left with my mom—that I think he will live with until he joins her again.
If such a thing were possible, that is.
And that's the kind of love I was holding out for—the kind of love that transforms lives so that even death cannot truly separate them.
And perhaps, I thought snarkily, that is why I've never dated.
I mean, who could live up such an impossible standard?
But I also refused to settle for less.
Guys in high school were so immature, plus being the police chief's daughter in a small town was a proven killjoy. The time or two in which I had attempted to date (mostly to silence Renee's persistent nudgings), Charlie had met my date at the door, rifle in hand, then insisted on sitting at the kitchen table while he cleaned the intimidating weapon while bragging about his excellent marksmanship while I finished getting ready. After these little "chats" with my father, my dates were reduced to near tears and were afraid to even speak my name, much less enjoy time with me. Renee scolded Charlie for scaring away the boys, but he usually grinned and was absolutely unrepentant. Even though I was expecting it, I was still disappointed when not a single boy braved Charlie's notorious "chats" in order to ask me to the prom.
So basically, I had no experience with boys in high school.
Obviously, I had looked forward to being able to meet guys in college once I left Forks behind, and Charlie was no longer present to scare them to death, but the two years of my mom's illness followed by her death meant that I felt little inclination to bother with dating in college—mostly because college guys demonstrated little to no improvement in maturity over high school boys. They were interested in two activities: partying and having sex with "hot" girls.
Intelligence in a girl was obviously a major drawback, as was having hair any color but blonde.
And my experience Mike had only emphasized how alike high school and college guys were. In fact, I wasn't sure if college guys weren't actually worse.
The only exceptions seemed to be my new roommates; Jasper and Emmett were in committed relationships with amazing women and possessed more sense than to try to kill off every existing brain cell with extensive drinking and drug use in the name of "partying."
Ugh.
Despite my disgust with boys in general and college boys in particular, I finally fell asleep.
My alarm the next morning was an unwelcome intrusion, and I reluctantly dragged myself from bed and to the shower. Returning to my room dressed for class in jeans, a dark blue sweater, and ankle boots, I threw on a brown leather jacket and started gathering my things.
Then I saw it.
Sitting in the middle of my dresser was a small black velvet jewelry box. And I knew exactly what would be inside when I opened it.
The golden locket caught the morning sunshine perfectly, glinting and glimmering in its box.
But how had it got here?
I was positive that Alice and I had replaced it in the wooden chest last night before we shoved the heavy container against the attic wall.
The open jewelry box still in my hand, I raced up the attic stairs, pulled on the chain to illuminate the room, and moved to the chest which remained exactly where Alice and I had left it last night.
I laid the box I had just discovered in my room on the side table beside my armchair so that it would stay within my line of vision. Then kneeling in front of the wooden chest, I opened the lid. As I gently moved the quilt aside in order to view the contents beneath it, I argued with myself. Even though I logically knew that the locket couldn't possibly be inside the chest, something compelled me to look anyway.
While I had half-expected to find the locket among the precious contents of the chest, I was still a little surprised when it wasn't there. Everything Alice and I had examined last night was exactly how we had left it…except for absence of the black velvet box containing the locket, the same box that I had set on the side table within easy reach just a moment ago.
Yes, I knew that racing up here to try to find the locket in the chest was a ridiculous idea, but given how much ridiculous stuff I had already dealt with in the past week, I wasn't sure what to expect anymore. Logic seemed to have been set aside in favor of mystery as soon as I moved into this house.
But I tried to regain my hold on the real world for a moment….
Perhaps I had dropped the box somewhere and Rosalie or Jasper had found it and put it on my dresser?
No, that didn't work—Alice and I had not removed the locket from the attic.
Wait—maybe Alice had taken the locket out of the chest and put it on my dresser this morning?
Now that possibility sounded plausible.
Grabbing the velvet box encasing the locket, I returned to my room, stuffed my school things in my bookbag, and went downstairs.
Alice and Jasper were sitting at the table eating breakfast; Alice's eyes had the same lack-of-sleep heaviness to them that I had seen in my own mirror. We exchanged smiles, but I held back for a moment. I didn't feel comfortable asking Alice about the locket with Jasper here—I wanted to speak with her alone. So I slipped the velvet box into my bookbag and proceeded to make my usual tea and toast.
Fortunately, Jasper finished his meal before Alice and I did, so while he went upstairs to get a book he had forgotten, I quickly pulled out the box.
"Alice, did you put this on my dresser this morning?" I asked in a low voice.
Her eyes grew huge with understanding. "Oh, my! Edward must have done it," she exclaimed, barely suppressing a squeal of excitement. "He must want you to have his mother's locket!"
"Wow." I slumped back in my chair, finally acknowledging the truth that I had refused to consider as soon as I had spotted the box on my dresser.
"You need to wear it today," Alice stated, her expression concerned. "I don't like your meeting with James, but perhaps the locket can be your good-luck charm."
"Oh, that makes a lot of sense." My tone was mocking as I frowned at her. "And will you please stop it with the warnings about James? I can take care of myself, you know."
"I'm serious, Bella. Maybe Edward can protect you if you wear something that belongs to him."
"That seems rather far-fetched, Alice."
"Well, the fact that a ghost has a crush on you is pretty far-fetched, too, you know."
"I don't think he has 'a crush' on me."
"He most certainly cares for you. I see it in his eyes whenever he looks at you."
I rolled my eyes, reluctant to respond after she cornered me so neatly...especially because I, too, had noticed the way that he stared at me, his expression focused and intense.
"Who has a crush on Bella?" Jasper asked, walking back into the kitchen.
"She kind of has a secret admirer," Alice said quickly, coming up with a much more believable response than my barely audible "Um…."
"Very cool. Let us know when he reveals himself, okay?" He winked at me, and I felt my cheeks grow hot under his teasing gaze.
"Sh-sure," I stuttered as I quickly concealed the box from Jasper's view behind my back.
Saying goodbye, they left for the day, Alice indicating behind Jasper's back that I should wear the locket.
After they left, I slowly opened the box, drawing my finger across the locket. It was beautiful and timeless…and it would look lovely against the dark blue of my sweater. Carefully I drew it out of the box and clasped the delicate chain around my neck.
It felt like it belonged there.
As I blushed at the idea of wearing something that had belonged to Edward's mother so long ago, I again felt a cold sensation trail down my cheekbone. Shivering at his icy touch, I also couldn't help smiling shyly as I whispered, "Thank you."
-0-0-0-0-0-
My Friday classes sped by, thankfully. I tried to keep my mind off the meeting with James, and for once, my brain obeyed. It wasn't until I entered the economics classroom that a slightly nauseous feeling accosted me, and I slid into my seat silently, glad that James hadn't arrived yet.
But Lauren and Katie were here, of course, sitting in the first row where James could ogle Lauren's cleavage as was his normal practice, one that she blatantly encouraged. Once I had seated myself about halfway back, Lauren threw little sideways glances at me while speaking to Katie in a carrying stage whisper that I was obviously meant to hear.
"James is taking me to a movie premiere tonight," Lauren said smugly. "He told me to dress up and make sure my ass looks great." She giggled loudly, Katie joining her. "James said that he asked me because he wants 'appropriate arm candy for walking the red carpet.' I mean, who else would he pick?" She sent a meaningful glare in my direction.
"After the movie, James said that we're going out clubbing. And guess what?" Lauren leaned close to Katie but stated her "secret" in her loudest tone yet. "He also told me not to worry about getting home after partying; he said that he will drive me home in the morning." Lauren stressed the last words deliberately with a triumphant smile.
Ew! was the only thought that crossed my mind. James might be handsome, but with his apparent reputation, Lauren had better protect herself from every creepy-crawly imaginable… I couldn't quite repress a shudder of disgust at the thought.
"What about the policy against TA's dating students in their classes?" Katie reminded her.
Lauren tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "James said not to worry—with the way I'm built, no one would take me for only a college student. And after tonight, we're just going to keep our relationship a secret."
Somehow I managed not to laugh out loud at her stupidity in trying to boast to the entire class, and me in particular, about her date and plans to sleep with James while supposedly "keeping it secret."
"Some secret now, Lauren!" laughed a guy in the back row of the classroom, and everyone else, myself included, cracked up.
Tossing her hair again in her front-row-and-center seat, Lauren ignored our sniggering as she continued her bragging about their date which I thankfully managed to shut out while looking over my notes from the last economics lecture.
Well, this date with Lauren just shows how much of a slime bucket James truly was. I had seen how he treated women before this, of course, but if he wanted my help with his project, I would turn him down flat. There was no way I was assisting a TA who was dating a student in his class which was blatantly against university policy.
In fact, given his plans for the weekend, I feel no guilt whatsoever in missing our afternoon meeting all together, I thought, satisfied with my decision.
Nearly five minutes late, James entered the classroom rather rumpled, flustered, and out-of-breath. I grinned to myself, wondering which girl he had been with during lunch to make him arrive to class late and in such a mess.
Lauren's eyes narrowed as she took in James' appearance as he coolly began a lecture on economic theory in France. Obviously Lauren wasn't the only girl James was seeing today—she was definitely going to have to deal with some competition, and I couldn't help chuckling under my breath at her obvious jealousy.
As he gave his lecture, James smiled and flirted as usual, but I ignored him (also as usual) while Lauren, apparently forgiving him already, leaned forward in her seat to display her assets (yet also as usual).
This time I didn't bother hiding my annoyance with his little games. Fortunately, about halfway through the class, he settled down, stopped the grinning and flirting, and actually gave a decent and somewhat interesting lecture—which was not usual, given that I considered the study of economics the pinnacle of boredom.
As he finished his lecture and dismissed us, James called, "Miss Swan? Don't forget our appointment this afternoon."
Drat. Nodding curtly despite my decision to miss the meeting, I gathered my books into my bag as Lauren glared at me, her eyes flashing at James' statement that we were meeting this afternoon.
Turning her back to me, Lauren flocked up to James at the lectern and put her hand on his arm. "I'll see you tonight, James. What time are you picking me up again?" she asked breathily…and loudly. Rolling my eyes, I left the room, grinning secretly as I heard James trying to shush her after her very public announcement of their forbidden dating status.
I made my way to the philosophy classroom quickly, gratefully sliding into my seat and glad to leave James and Lauren and their little drama far, far behind. In fact, I felt quite a bit better and congratulated myself on deciding to ignore the meeting with James. Alice will be happy, anyway, I thought with a small smile.
As Peter finished his lecture on early medieval mysticism, he dismissed us for the weekend cheerily but seemed quite serious when he asked to see me after class. Now that I wasn't going to the appointment with James after class, I wasn't in a rush. As I approached his lectern, Peter was putting away his laptop which he had just used to display PowerPoint images to accompany his lecture.
"Come to my office, please," he invited, but he didn't look at me directly. Puzzled, I walked silently beside him into the next building, down a long hallway, and into an office barely the size of a closet. Two embattled desks were jammed face-to-face with a chair each behind for the TA and another to the side of each desk. Thankfully the other desk was unoccupied as Peter placed his messenger bag on the desk, gesturing to the wooden chair beside his desk. Warily I took the indicated seat as he plopped into the uncomfortable-looking chair behind the desk.
"Wow—I guess you know just how those medieval monks felt in the cloisters, huh?" I joked weakly, waving vaguely at the windowless room that would have been unpleasantly cramped for one TA and must have been nearly impossible for two teaching assistants to work in at the same time.
He attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I need to tell you something, Ms. Swan."
"Okay?"
Sighing, he continued reluctantly. "Earlier today I heard James Spencer bragging to another Economics TA that you are going to help him with a major project." He paused, his eyes boring into mine as if gauging the veracity of my reply. "Is this true?"
My eyebrows rose in surprise and annoyance. "We were supposed to meet this afternoon," I glanced at my watch. "Right now, in fact, to discuss what he called 'an academic proposal.'" It was my turn to be wary; after all, I didn't know if Peter was a friend of James. I chose my words carefully as I replied, "But I reconsidered earlier this afternoon and decided to skip the meeting."
Peter's expression cleared. "You made a wise decision, Bella." I noted his use of my first name as understanding began to dawn. "James Spencer is not someone to be trusted—especially in regard to women—and I feel much better knowing that you won't be working closely with him."
He paused, grinning unrepentantly. "And now I won't have to find myself on the wrong side of a mutual friend of ours—a very concerned and excitable young woman who spent all morning texting thinly-veiled threats of what could happen to me if I didn't convince you to stay away from James."
I grinned back. "And I suppose you know Alice because Jasper's also a philosophy TA?"
"Exactly. And you know how Alice is when she gets an idea in her head…."
I rolled my eyes dramatically. "I live with the girl—believe me, I'm learning fast."
"No hard feelings?" he asked, his smile fading as he became serious again.
"Not at all."
"Well, have a good weekend, Bella." Peter rose from his chair as I did—quite a gentlemanly gesture on his part—and offered me his hand. I could see immediately why he and Jasper were friends; they had a similar Southern courtliness in their manners.
Shaking his hand, I replied, "You, too, Peter. And thanks for looking out for me."
He smiled again, and I waved cheerily over my shoulder as I left his mouse hole of an office.
As I crossed campus to the parking lot, I reveled in the beauty of the autumn day. The last of the afternoon sunshine was warm on my face, and many trees around campus were reaching peak color as their leaves fluttered to the ground in swirls of gold, tangerine, and scarlet. Eagerly I breathed in the crisp air as I approached the parking lot.
My phone buzzed in my bag, and pausing at a bench, I pulled it out and swiped the front of the phone. A text from Alice greeted me.
"Glad u canceled w/ James."
I typed back, "Good news travels fast. U talk 2 Peter or "saw" it?"
Her reply was nearly instantaneous. "Both :D"
"On my way home. Need anything at the store?"
"No, ty. But Em wants to know what's 4 dinner."
I rolled my eyes; of course he does. I replied, "Tell him I'll be home soon 2 start cooking."
"K. C U soon. xx"
I smiled at Alice's "kisses" at the end of her text as I put away my phone, picked up my bag again, and entered the parking lot.
However, my enjoyment of the day and my text-conversation with Alice came abruptly to a halt—as I did as well—when I saw who was leaning against my car, obviously waiting for me.
His arms folded across his chest, James glared at me, obviously annoyed but trying to play it off as being cool.
After stopping in my tracks, I started walking again, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching my teeth. How dare he "trap" me like this?
I actually considered turning around and taking a bus home rather than confronting the jerk, but I quickly decided not to let him scare me away.
"Going home, are we?" James asked, his voice deceptively calm, his eyes strangely cold.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." I tried to keep my voice confident and even.
"I thought you had an appointment."
"I decided that the appointment wasn't worth my time," I replied, my voice hard.
"And you weren't going to let the person you were meeting to know that you changed your mind?" he challenged.
"No, I wasn't. And especially not since you somehow know which car is mine—which makes me think that you're a stalker."
James took a step toward me, opening his arms in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey, you know I'm not a stalker, Bella. I just wanted to keep our meeting, and when you didn't show up…."
"You should have taken the hint," I replied coldly. "And how did you know which car was mine?"
"Aw, come on, Bella," he pleaded, but with the confidence of a good-looking guy who knew that any woman would eventually give in to him…me included.
"I don't seem to remember giving you permission to use my first name," I stated acerbically, referring to the university policy of referring to students by title and last name rather than first name.*
"Very well then, Ms. Swan. I only want to discuss an academic project with you—a very important project that could benefit both of us. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
I didn't really have an answer for him, and his grin widened.
"Come on back to my office, and I'll fill you in."
But James' smug expression really bothered me. "I thought we were meeting at Starbucks," I reminded him.
Rolling his eyes, he reluctantly agreed and walked beside me, thankfully silently, as we returned to the campus Starbucks. James gallantly opened the heavy glass door for me, and I nodded curtly in acknowledgement as we entered.
"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked.
"No, thanks. I need to get home, so let's not waste time." I frowned as I found an unoccupied table and slipped into a chair.
He seated himself across from me and gave me his most winning smile.
Uh oh, I thought. Now it begins.
Steepling his fingers, he gave me an intensely searching look that I think he meant to be daunting. But I refused to break his gaze as he intended me to do; instead, I assessed him myself.
James Spencer was definitely good-looking, with pale gray eyes in a tan face, light scruff softening his jawline. If he had lived in California, I would have immediately classed him as a surfer…but without the mellow vibe. His intensity was belied by his ash-blond hair which was pulled back from his angular face in a ponytail. Probably four or five years older than I was, he managed to look professional enough to teach, yet he retained a modern style that obviously made him a popular target for the girls in his classes. Today he was wearing well-worn jeans and black boots combined with a black dress shirt open at the neck and a charcoal leather jacket.
Yes, indeed—James was good-looking; in fact, any girl—and probably most guys—would admit that objective truth.
The problem was that he definitely knew how attractive he was—and he used it to his advantage. However, this kind of manipulative behavior automatically made James far less attractive in my eyes. Perhaps because I was immune to his charms, a strange confidence that I felt with few other people filled me as I assessed him.
My mouth twisted into a slight smirk as we both stared at each other, he measuring me just as I did him.
Out of nowhere, he let out a bark of laughter, and I smiled in satisfaction, fairly certain that I had passed whatever test he had just subjected me to.
"All right then, Ms. Swan. I have to admit, you're not quite what I had expected," he chuckled ruefully, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.
I raised my eyebrow at him, a little irked at his apparent expectations of me. "Did you think I'd wilt under your rude scrutiny, Mr. Spencer?" I asked with sweet sarcasm.
"Yes, something like that," he admitted in a low voice, dropping his eyes to the table between us. "As I said, you're not at all what I expected."
"I apologize for not being a shrinking violet or a crazed fangirl," I scoffed. "Do all of the girls you meet with simply melt into a pile of goo when you scrutinize them?" I shook my head in a mockery of deep sorrow. "I must be such a disappointment to you. Unfortunately, now you don't have some nervous, worshipful co-ed to escort back to your apartment tonight. Oh wait—you do have other plans for tonight, don't you? Lauren will be so pleased to know that she has no competition…for tonight, anyway."
James' head jerked up, and I was surprised to see a flash of anger in his pale gray eyes followed by what seemed to be…sadness. "No, you did not disappoint me…quite the opposite, in fact, Ms. Swan," he said quietly.
His abrupt change in manner was not what I had expected during this encounter. Shielding myself behind my dislike for him, I had managed to remain detached by his flirtatious manner in class and his frequent use of deft sarcasm to shame students who weren't up to his rigorous standards. In this meeting, I had expected him to be cocky, coming onto me and assuming that I would be incredulously flattered by his personal attention—all of which I found extremely annoying.
There was something about James Spencer that I didn't trust, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I had prepared to be guarded, sarcastic, and cutting, hoping to burst his substantial male ego-bubble and be on my merry way.
But the fact that I had shattered his expectations and perhaps hurt him in some way disarmed me slightly, causing me to lower my defenses.
But I couldn't allow him any leeway…not now. And never again.
It was far, far too dangerous.
Scrabbling about mentally to gather my thoughts and put some emotional distance between us, I lifted my chin imperiously as I regarded him through what I hoped was an effective mask concealing my confusion.
"Was there a specific reason you requested my presence, Mr. Spencer?" I asked, raising my eyebrow again.
Shaking his head as if to clear his wayward thoughts, James pulled a folder from his expensive messenger bag. Opening the folder, he pulled out a single page and handed it to me. "Take a look," he said quietly.
A quick glance down the page revealed a printed e-mail which was forwarded from the Economics chairperson, Dr. Suzanne Phelps, to all the professors in the department.
Slowing down, I read the e-mail carefully to absorb all of the details. The International Review of Economics Education**, a highly-regarded academic journal dedicated to the teaching of economics at the high school and university levels, had issued a call for papers from teaching faculty.
Dr. Whitman, whose class James was teaching, had forwarded the announcement personally to James, advising him to
"…find an appropriate undergraduate student with which to co-author a paper for this journal. Being published in a journal of this caliber will greatly assist you in securing a faculty position after you receive your PhD. Please let me know if you find a viable candidate and bring him/her to my office to discuss the project.
-Henry"
As I finished reading the e-mail, I shrugged my shoulders. "Looks like a great opportunity. But why are you telling me about it?"
"Because I think you'd be the perfect student to co-write the paper with me," he stated, watching me carefully for a reaction.
I couldn't stop myself—I burst out laughing, both at James and at the situation, right in the middle of Starbucks.
As I was finally starting to calm my ungracious hoots, I noticed a familiar face glaring at me from behind the cash register, and my laughter came to an abrupt halt.
Shit—this was the Starbucks where Jessica worked. I was definitely going to regret meeting with James here where Jessica could witness us—and do who-knows-what with the information.
At this point, I glanced at James who had definitely noticed the reason for the sudden end of my laughter with a frown of disapproval.
"See?" I asked, subdued by the knowledge that Jessica was watching us. "I'm definitely the wrong person to help you write a paper, James. Seriously? I can barely stand the subject, and I'm not doing all that well in your class. Economics is my least favorite class, and I can't imagine any topic more dismal to write about." I handed him back the e-mail and stood, gathering my things in preparation to leave.
"Wait, Ms. Swan!" James called so loudly that several patrons turned to stare at him. Taking a deep breath to get his emotions under control—I could tell that my little anti-economics tirade had annoyed him—he motioned to the chair I had just vacated.
Sighing, I sat back down reluctantly.
James looked at me evenly. "I can tell you don't care much for the subject, but your opinion of economics will be an advantage in co-writing this essay."
I didn't do a good job of hiding my shock. "Okay…." I hedged, trying to come up with another excuse…and failing at the moment.
"The point of this paper is to demonstrate strategies for teaching reluctant students, especially in teaching students taking economics for general education who have little to no interest in the subject. Plus," he continued smoothly, "as you are a literature major, you will definitely write well, and co-authoring an essay for such a prestigious journal, even though it is outside your area of study, will help you greatly if you apply to graduate schools." James paused, and then asked with a smile, "Have you considered continuing your education, Ms. Swan?"
I nodded, admitting, "The thought has crossed my mind."
"Well, there you go," he stated, obviously pleased with his arguments.
I wasn't so sure about working with James. Something about him bothered me, and although I couldn't articulate it, I also refused to dismiss it. My gut reactions were usually pretty accurate; I cringed when I thought back to ignoring a similar feeling when meeting with Jessica about the roommate situation.
Yes, disregarding my first impressions had not served me well in the past, and I would only agree with this arrangement after thinking it over carefully; I would not be rushed.
"I will consider your proposal and let you know my decision soon," I stated noncommittally.
James' satisfied grin faded. "The deadline for submission of this paper is only six weeks away, so we don't have much time," he reminded me, apparently annoyed at my reluctance.
"I understand," I replied coolly. "I'll let you know by Monday at the latest."
"How about tomorrow?" he suggested quickly.
He was getting on my nerves already.
"Maybe tomorrow, but probably Monday."
"I guess I don't have much choice," he grumbled ungraciously.
"No, you don't," I agreed sweetly. Standing up and tossing my backpack over my shoulder, I advised, "Perhaps you ought to line up a couple more literature majors who write well but hate economics in case I can't help you."
I heard him cursing under his breath at my snarky suggestion as I turned on my heel and started walking toward the exit, concealing my grin of satisfaction.
"Wait a second, Ms. Swan!"
Sighing dramatically, I turned back to face him. James had jumped up from his chair and was right behind me, so when I turned, I practically barreled into him. To keep us both from falling, he grasped my upper arms with both hands, steadying me.
"Thanks," I muttered ungraciously.
"Oh, and one more thing," he said softly, still holding me close to him, our chests nearly touching. "Although students are instructed to call TA's by their first names," he stated, his eyes serious behind his smile, "while TA's have to refer to students by their last names, I would appreciate permission to call you by your first name since we will be working together."
"Don't you mean 'may be working together'? I haven't agreed to your proposal yet."
"Whatever," he grinned down at me.
"Only when we're working outside of class, right?"
"Of course," he amended quickly, his smile disappearing. "In class you'll remain 'Ms. Swan' as usual," he finished stiffly.
I considered for a moment, and then decided that this familiarity really couldn't do much harm. "Okay," I agreed.
"Thank you, Isabella," he answered softly.
"I prefer 'Bella,' thanks," I corrected him, frowning.
He leaned forward, whispering in my ear, "Well, I prefer 'Isabella'—it's the name of queens. Did you know that 'Isabella' is a variant of the popular name 'Elizabeth' which means 'oath of God'?"
"N-no, I didn't," I stammered, unnerved by having James' proximity to me as well as his gentle tone. I could feel a blush warming my face as I looked down, trying to escape his gaze.
"So, Isabella it is," he stated firmly, and I could tell that no matter how much I argued, I would be 'Isabella' whether I liked it or not.
"Fine," I muttered, stepping back out of his embrace and looking at my watch. "I need to get home." As I moved to the exit, James sped around me so that he could open the door—a gentlemanly gesture that I hadn't expecting from him. I walked through the door and hurriedly toward the parking lot.
"Call me, Isabella!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the quad. Angered by his public display, I spun around, only to see him still holding the glass door open, and behind him stood an utterly shocked Jessica, her eyes huge, her mouth gaping.
I couldn't help but feel a little vengeful satisfaction at her reaction—she was obviously shocked by James practically begging me to call him.
And James' wink as he released the door revealed that he had known exactly what he was doing in helping me wreak a little revenge.
And a guy who would help a girl with a little payback couldn't be all bad, now, could he?
A/N: Well, I'm sorry for not updating as soon as I wanted to, but this chapter is nearly 6000 words long, my longest thus far. I've decided to post longer chapters every other week rather than short chapters every week—my readers at Wattpad were almost unanimous in their preference for longer chapters, even if it meant updating every 2-3 weeks.
*The policy of calling students by "Mr." or "Ms." (called "honorifics") plus their last name has become policy at some high schools although not in colleges. I just felt that I needed that line between formality and informality to be stressed throughout this story, so I included The University of Chicago in this policy although no such policy actually exists at that university.
**There is a journal called The International Review of Economics Education although I have invented the call for papers on the subject of teaching economics to students outside of the econ major.
Our 17th year of home education begins on the 26th of August, but I still hope to post chapters every other week during the school year. I have a busy year ahead of me with three online courses to teach this fall, high school Expository Essay courses to teach at our homeschool group's Class Days, plus our two boys to teach at home in grades 8 and 11. Thankfully we have an excellent mathematics tutor, and our boys take science labs (general science and chemistry this year) and PE classes at Class Day (twice monthly); I teach the rest. :)
I'm sorry for not responding to the reviews for Chapter 7. We've had health problems with three of our four kids, plus my own health crisis of sorts. But I read every review and file them away for future reference. Thanks for reading and reviewing! :) Your comments mean the world to me!
Warmly,
Cassandra :)
xxxooo
