I hold up my phone. “Our grade just came in for the engineering paper.” I take a long sip of punch. My face flushes, but I need the liquid courage.
Jordan snorts, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Fucking Dean Powers. Giving us grades on a Friday night just to ruin our weekends. Typical.” He pulls out his phone from his pocket.
Glancing around the large room, I realize I’m underdressed, if the girls wandering around in short skirts and heels are any indication. In my defense, I wanted to go home and change out of my jeans and tee, but Jordan insisted it was casual.
“Wow,” he hisses, jolting my attention back to him.
“What did you get?” I almost grab him and shake him as he looks up from his phone with a small grin on his lips.
“You first, although I already know it’s an A. I read your paper, remember?” He smirks.
Taking a deep breath, I push on the class, taking me to the grades, and blink at the screen.
C
That can’t be right. I’m not bragging, but I know how to write a killer paper, so a C is unacceptable. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a C.
“What did you get?” My eyes remain focused on my phone.
“Fucking arrogant prick gave me a B.”
Looking at Jordan, I shove my phone in his face. “I got a C.” My head spins, and tears threaten to spill, so I bring the cup to my lips and start chugging.
“That can’t be right.” He takes my phone and stares at it. “Fuuckkk.” He looks down at me. “He straight up robbed you.” Shaking his head, he says, “You’re not gonna freak out and do something drastic, are you?” He bursts out laughing.
I grab his cup and down the remaining punch, then snatch my phone back.
“Whatever. Make fun of me.” I sniff, my entire mouth now numb.
“Sorry.” He keeps laughing. “Look, that has to be a mistake. I read your paper. It was perfect.” He pulls my arm to follow him. “Let’s refill your punch. You can email him, and then we can get fucked up.” He fist pumps a random guy walking by. Eminem’s “Not Afraid” is so loud that not only is my tongue tingly, but so are my ears.
“I need some air,” I yell at his back.
“What? Come on, we can grab our drinks and sit on the roof,” he calls back over his shoulder.
“No.” I stop as the room kind of spins. “I’m not drinking any more until I email the dean.”
He shakes his head at me. “Bad idea. He won’t respond until Sunday at the earliest, so let’s drinkkkk.” He pounds his chest.
Rolling my eyes, I step toward the front door, miming that I’m going outside to use the phone.
“Excuse me,” I mumble at a group of stupid guys blocking the door.
They keep laughing and smoking.
“I said, move.” Not waiting, I duck under one guy’s arm and keep walking while I press on Dean Powers’s email.
Dear Dean Powers,
I just got my paper back, and as I got a C, I am sure there is a mistake. Please change it.
Thank you,
Alexandrea Carter
I don’t even reread it and press Send, growing more pissed by the second. Because Jordan is right. He’s not gonna respond until Sunday. Almost immediately my phone vibrates with a message.
Ms. Carter,
I assure you, that is your grade. If you are unhappy or confused, please make an appointment on Monday during my office hours to discuss.
Best,
Dean Powers, Ph.D and MBA
The Rice Family Professor of Energy Solutions
Vice Dean and Chair of the Environmental Engineering Department
Barrett School of Engineering
California University
“Oh my God.” I stare at the email and walk away from the annoyingly loud party so I can think. I should probably just make a stupid appointment, but whatever, screw him. I’m emailing again.
Dean Powers,
I’m not waiting until Monday!
Alexandrea
I lick my suddenly dry lips as I wait for a response. If he can eat me out on his desk, he can talk to me now. I look up at a couple of girls getting out of a cab, both laughing and taking selfies. And for a second, I want to be them. Just a pretty girl, wanting to have fun. No worries, no pressures, just going out to party and have fun. Unfortunately, I’m me, and I do worry.
Fantastic, I guess he has decided to ignore me. I’m ready to email again when my phone vibrates.
Ms. Carter,
You seem determined to ignore my request for Monday. I’m having dinner at Marix if you are available right now. I have a few minutes to explain your work.
Best,
Dean Powers, Ph.D and MBA
The Rice Family Professor of Energy Solutions
Vice Dean and Chair of the Environmental Engineering Department
Barrett School of Engineering
California University
“Shit.” I gulp. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.
“Hey, wait.” I move toward the cab that the girls exited and knock on the passenger side window.
“Hi.” I wave at the startled cab driver who’s on his phone.
“Sorry,” I say when he rolls down the window. “Can you please wait while I grab my purse? I need a ride down the street.”
He tosses his phone to the passenger seat and leans over. “Make it quick, I’m off in thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be right back.” Spinning, I speed walk toward the house. Maybe I should find Jordan and let him know I’m leaving, but I can always text him. I grab my purse from one of the top kitchen cabinets and zigzag around people as they kind of blur together.
I almost stop to grab a cup of Danny Boy’s punch for the road, but I’m definitely already feeling the first two, so I probably should keep my wits about me since I intend to win this argument.
Fuck Dean Powers. If he thinks giving me a bad grade is going to get rid of me, he’s got another thing coming.
BRETT
“Thank you, I’ll take the check.” Leaning forward for my wallet, I spot Alexandrea marching in.
I hand my American Express card to the server and lean back in the booth watching her, unable to stop myself from smiling. Even from where I sit, I can see her hard nipples in her tight white T-shirt.
I can almost feel her anger all the way to my booth. She’s like a wildcat, ready to claw and scratch her way to the top, and apparently, that means going to battle with me.
But, unfortunately, I’ve worked too hard to play. If it was anyone but a student, I’d engage. As it is, I’ve already crossed the line when I ate out her cunt on my desk. I shift uncomfortably just thinking about her taste, like sweet, ripe peaches.
I reach for the last of my margarita, and my eyes follow hers. She’s searching, then as if she feels me, she turns and glares right at me.
“Here you go.” The server smiles as she gives me back my card. Yet everything has dulled as I bring my drink to my lips. I watch the way she moves, graceful as she points me out to the hostess, then comes toward me, allowing my eyes to feast on the way her full tits move as she approaches.
“Dean Powers,” she huffs, running her hands through her hair, as if it was up and she just put it down. Her cheeks and lips are flushed.