muffled by the scarf wound around her face.
“That sounds incredibly ominous. Like something I’d hear in a horror movie right before zombies pour out of the frat house. Are you sure we shouldn’t just go back home, put on our jammies and watch the second season of Buffy ?”
“Pretty sure. Come on. Man up. Or rather, woman up. Look at it this way. You’re getting material for your blog, right?”
“I guess.”
Kristen and I had been waiting for Dr. Turner when she arrived at her office that morning. She greeted us with one arched brow as she unlocked the door.
“I assume you ladies have a question about the assignment and that you haven’t come to sit at my feet and listen to tales from the stone age of journalism.”
I pushed off the wall I’d been leaning against. “I always love to hear your stories, Dr. Turner.”
She laughed once, a dry and skeptical sound. “Come in and sit down. Ask your questions.”
Dr. Turner was silent as Kristen and I explained what we wanted to do. She was past master at keeping a poker face, and I couldn’t read what she was thinking.
When I stopped talking, she drew in a breath and made a steeple of her fingers beneath her chin.
“This is a very interesting topic, ladies. It’s the first year we’ve done the seminar, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from my students—maybe a lot of noble causes, possibly some nonsense from the boys...yes, I know, but even in college, boys are less mature, by and large.”
I nodded, and Kristen shifted in her chair.
“And I’m not insensitive to the fact that this is a potentially slippery slope you girls propose to tackle. It could easily fall into juvenile male-bashing.” She sighed deeply. “But on the other hand, you’ve both been my students for several semesters, and I flatter myself that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. I’m going to approve this project. But I want you to be very careful, thoughtful about what you write and conscious of the responsibility you’ll bear.”
“Thanks, Dr. Turner.”
She pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. “I know I seem like a dinosaur to you girls. But I still remember what it was like. My worst experience in that regard was well after college, but nonetheless...” She shook her head. “Another time.”
I thought about her last statement as Ava and I climbed the porch of the Alpha Delt house. There was something comforting about knowing my particular misery wasn’t so lonely.
The music pounded around us now, and I winced. Ava shot me an encouraging smile and opened the door.
I had expected the same scene from freshman year, but Giff was right; it wasn’t quite as frenetic. People stood in clumps and clusters, sat on the sofas and chairs. It was loud, but not out of control. I recognized a couple of faces, and I was relieved to see that more than one girl wore jeans and sweatshirts. I wasn’t going to stick out as much as I’d feared.
We wove our way into the room. A few people greeted us, and I kept out a wary eye for Jack Duncan. I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous about the possibility of seeing Liam or the idea that I had to leave the party with Jack.
Ava squeezed my arm and steered me toward the light of the kitchen. A cooler was set up in one corner, next to a table covered with various bottles and plastic cups. A guy stood with his back to us, leaning over a short dark-haired girl. When they heard us come in, he steered the girl around the corner into a darker hallway.
“Not so bad, right?” Ava had to almost yell the words into my ear.
I raised my eyebrows at her and shook my head. “It’s loud! And there’s people making out or worse on almost every flat surface.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Stop it. Grab a drink and go mingle.” Pulling out her phone, she checked the time. “You’ve got a little more than an hour before we need to be walking out the door with—you know. Try to have a good time, okay?”
I heaved a sigh. “I
“That sounds incredibly ominous. Like something I’d hear in a horror movie right before zombies pour out of the frat house. Are you sure we shouldn’t just go back home, put on our jammies and watch the second season of Buffy ?”
“Pretty sure. Come on. Man up. Or rather, woman up. Look at it this way. You’re getting material for your blog, right?”
“I guess.”
Kristen and I had been waiting for Dr. Turner when she arrived at her office that morning. She greeted us with one arched brow as she unlocked the door.
“I assume you ladies have a question about the assignment and that you haven’t come to sit at my feet and listen to tales from the stone age of journalism.”
I pushed off the wall I’d been leaning against. “I always love to hear your stories, Dr. Turner.”
She laughed once, a dry and skeptical sound. “Come in and sit down. Ask your questions.”
Dr. Turner was silent as Kristen and I explained what we wanted to do. She was past master at keeping a poker face, and I couldn’t read what she was thinking.
When I stopped talking, she drew in a breath and made a steeple of her fingers beneath her chin.
“This is a very interesting topic, ladies. It’s the first year we’ve done the seminar, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from my students—maybe a lot of noble causes, possibly some nonsense from the boys...yes, I know, but even in college, boys are less mature, by and large.”
I nodded, and Kristen shifted in her chair.
“And I’m not insensitive to the fact that this is a potentially slippery slope you girls propose to tackle. It could easily fall into juvenile male-bashing.” She sighed deeply. “But on the other hand, you’ve both been my students for several semesters, and I flatter myself that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. I’m going to approve this project. But I want you to be very careful, thoughtful about what you write and conscious of the responsibility you’ll bear.”
“Thanks, Dr. Turner.”
She pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. “I know I seem like a dinosaur to you girls. But I still remember what it was like. My worst experience in that regard was well after college, but nonetheless...” She shook her head. “Another time.”
I thought about her last statement as Ava and I climbed the porch of the Alpha Delt house. There was something comforting about knowing my particular misery wasn’t so lonely.
The music pounded around us now, and I winced. Ava shot me an encouraging smile and opened the door.
I had expected the same scene from freshman year, but Giff was right; it wasn’t quite as frenetic. People stood in clumps and clusters, sat on the sofas and chairs. It was loud, but not out of control. I recognized a couple of faces, and I was relieved to see that more than one girl wore jeans and sweatshirts. I wasn’t going to stick out as much as I’d feared.
We wove our way into the room. A few people greeted us, and I kept out a wary eye for Jack Duncan. I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous about the possibility of seeing Liam or the idea that I had to leave the party with Jack.
Ava squeezed my arm and steered me toward the light of the kitchen. A cooler was set up in one corner, next to a table covered with various bottles and plastic cups. A guy stood with his back to us, leaning over a short dark-haired girl. When they heard us come in, he steered the girl around the corner into a darker hallway.
“Not so bad, right?” Ava had to almost yell the words into my ear.
I raised my eyebrows at her and shook my head. “It’s loud! And there’s people making out or worse on almost every flat surface.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Stop it. Grab a drink and go mingle.” Pulling out her phone, she checked the time. “You’ve got a little more than an hour before we need to be walking out the door with—you know. Try to have a good time, okay?”
I heaved a sigh. “I
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