The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(24)

Her little speech bubble popped up and disappeared for a solid three minutes.

Seph: It’s okay. I appreciate your attempt, but I’ll find a way to handle this myself.

Her doing it herself was a bad idea, not that I’d shown myself to be any better at keeping her out of trouble. Why does this bother me so much? I wondered. I tried to play it off as some kind of big brotherly protection, but big brothers don’t think about their sisters like I’d thought about her when she walked out in that bathing suit and dropped that towel.





9





Seph





The old math building sheltered me in its musty, wood-and-stone-constructed embrace. I’d sleepwalked through my classes since racing out of the gym like death himself was after me. Every trace of chlorine had been washed out of my hair days ago, but it would take a while for me to live down the embarrassment of having my life flash before my eyes minutes after dipping my toes into the warm, cloudy pool.

The collective gawking of everyone crowded around me poolside had nearly set my skin on fire. I was a complete moron, an idiot for thinking Reece would be there for handholding. He felt bad for me and I’d roped him into helping me, but I needed to do this on my own. The genius label stung a little sharper when my lack of life skills smashed me over the head and almost drowned me in seconds.

I’d like to say I didn’t cry when I got back to the apartment, but the fat sloppy tears that soaked my pillow would call me a liar. Why did anything to do with other people outside of a classroom have to be so hard? Why hadn’t my parents taught me how to swim? Why had I let myself be so giddy at the thought of Reece teaching me how to swim? Why hadn’t I taken any precautions? Instead I’d jumped in headfirst and reaped the rewards for that act of exploration.

Never had I cursed my precise memory more. Each excruciating detail was vividly retained, from the moment I walked out of the changing room onto the blue and white tiled walkway around the pool to my gaze raking over Reece’s muscled and tanned body sitting poolside.

His gaze had landed on me and goose bumps broke out all over my body. There had been a glint in his eyes and then it was gone. I wanted to think I saw something there, but it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I wanted him to want me and have that same breathless feeling when our eyes connected, but that was wishful thinking.

There was a vivid replay of the second my head dropped under the water, the looks on everyone’s faces when I finally resurfaced, Reece’s frantic look when he dragged me out of the pool.

Their gazes had singed the hair on the back of my neck as I’d scrambled into the locker room.

“Ms. Alexander?”

My head snapped up. “Professor Huntsman, sorry. Could you repeat that?”

“This is highly unusual, but given your talents, I’ve cleared it with the head of the undergraduate faculties. Would you be interested in teaching a course over the summer? There’s a program we have for high school graduates starting in the fall. We could use someone like you.” Professor Huntsman’s kind eyes twinkled with the kind of caring you found in a mall Santa.

“Like me?” I jabbed my thumb into my sternum as my voice went up an octave.

The corner of his eyes crinkled even more, and his bright white eyebrows dipped low. “I’ve seen you in the review sessions with your classmates. You do a wonderful job of helping them, even in the sessions you’re not assigned to attend.” He laughed.

I ran my hands over the page of neatly printed notes in front of me. The sessions he was referring to were ones I’d hidden out in when I’d been kicked out of my apartment. Sitting in math class was a second home for me, and listening to things I’d learned back when I was ten didn’t bore me. It fascinated me to see how the professors explained the theories and to watch everyone around me as the pieces clicked into place. That spark in their eyes made it worthwhile, even more so if someone didn’t get it and I had to challenge my own way of thinking to help them grasp the concepts.

“I’d love to, but I’m not sure I’ll be here after the end of next semester.” Dropping my hands into my lap, I picked at my thumbnail.

He made a noise that sounded halfway between a choke and a bark.

“What do you mean? You’ve only just gotten here.” His face dropped like I’d just told him he’d missed the last flight to Aruba. I hated disappointing him. He’d bent over backward since I’d arrived to get me the exceptions I needed for some courses and to make sure I was settling in okay, and I wanted to stay.

“My father is speaking with Harvard now about them accepting me into their PhD program early.”

His eye bulged and he dropped his hand onto the desktop. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve kept things as they are for you because of how compelling your application was. You mentioned wanting to slow down and enjoy the college experience.” He shuffled papers around on his desk.

I shot forward in my seat. “I do. I definitely do, but I’m not sure I have much choice in the matter.” My chest tightened.

“My dear, you’re an adult. You always have a choice.” His kind eyes spoke volumes about how little he knew about my life. There were choices and then there were choices. I’d never been given too many of either, and it was a reflex to go along with what was asked—ha, I wish—what was demanded of me.