“Because…she…” I bite my lip in thought. “Because she was fashion. She pioneered the little black dress, for Pete’s sake. People accused her of being too conservative, but honestly I think she revolutionized the industry. She showed the world that fashion isn’t just about wearing a nice dress or tailored suit to a dinner party—it’s a way of life.” I pause, scanning my memory. “There was this famous quote of hers about how fashion is everywhere—‘It’s in the sky and in the streets, it’s in how we live and what we do.’ That’s a philosophy I believe in.”
He nods. Many of my classmates are nodding too. Nora, however, scowls at me over her shoulder and then stiffly faces the room again.
Whatever. I don’t care if she doesn’t like me. She tried to make me look like a fool for respecting Chanel, and it backfired on her. Tough shit.
“Very well said,” Laurie tells me before sweeping his gaze over the room. “Who’s next? I want to know who inspires you.”
The next hour flies by, and I’m less than thrilled when we’re dismissed. I was dreading this moment, even more so now because I know I impressed Erik Laurie. I really don’t want him to lose all that good will toward me when I tell him about my learning issues.
As I navigate the aisle, I hear Nora speaking to her friend. “I’ll meet you outside. I want to tell him what a huge fan I am.”
Oh great. Now if I go talk to him, Nora will think I’m trying to one-up her.
“Summer,” Laurie calls from the front of the room. “A quick word?”
Okay. At least it doesn’t look like I’m the one initiating the contact.
But I think this might be worse.
Nora stops in her tracks. Her eyes burn into my back like hot coals as I hurriedly descend the steps.
“It’s nice to officially meet you.” Smiling, he extends a hand.
I give it a shake. “Nice to meet you too, Professor Laurie.”
“Call me Erik.”
“Oh. Um. We might need to work up to that. I feel weird first-naming authority figures.”
He chuckles. “Fair enough. How about Mr. L until you warm up to Erik?” He winks at me, and his tone holds a flirtatious note, but I’m starting to think this is just him being friendly. I saw him winking at several other girls throughout the lecture.
“Mr. L, it is.” I hesitate, readying myself for the awkward part. “I don’t know if you had a chance to speak to Mr. Richmond. He’s serving as my academic advisor this year.”
“I did, actually. Rest assured, he advised me about your learning difficulties, and I do plan on sitting down with you to discuss it further. But we’ll need to do that during office hours.” He studies me for a moment. “I was impressed with you this morning. You’re a very eloquent speaker.”
“And a very terrible writer.”
“Hey, you could say that about plenty of individuals. And there are ways around it. Like I said, we’ll talk during office hours, but I do believe I can make alternate arrangements for you. Perhaps a lower word count for the midterm, supplemented by an oral element?”
A tiny smile lifts the corners of his mouth at the word oral. I know he’s referring to an oral presentation, but the accompanying smile triggers my ick meter. Either he’s skirting a dangerous line between his authority and his female students, or he’s just overly friendly. I really hope it’s the latter.
“You can check the department website for my availability, but I think the sooner we sit down and hammer this out, the better.”
“I agree.”
He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “And, please, continue to speak out in class the way you did today. I appreciate students who are as passionate as I am about this topic.”
Another wink.
Or maybe he’s not winking, and that’s just his eye? Is there a possibility that this is how he blinks, one eye at a time? I have no clue, and I don’t care to find out. Nora is still glaring at me. And Laurie is still holding my hand.
I awkwardly slide my palm out of his grip. “I’ll do my best. And I’ll check your office hours when I get home. Thanks, sir—I mean, Mr. L.”
“That’s better.”
He winks. Or blinks. Who the fuck knows.
I practically sprint toward the exit, ignoring Nora’s thunderous expression.
Outside, I shiver from the cold as I pile all my winter clothes on. I didn’t want to do it in the lecture hall under Laurie’s gaze. The man might be a legend in the fashion world, and he did seem nice enough, but I got such a weird vibe from him.
Ugh. I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Since this was my only class for the day, I’m free as a bird, so I text Brenna asking if she’s on campus. She’s quick to answer.
BRENNA: Library
* * *
ME: Just finished class. Wanna grab lunch at the diner?
* * *
BRENNA: Yessss. Come get me?
* * *
ME: Kk. 10 min
* * *
ME: Be prepared to discuss MH or I won’t let you in my car!
This time, there’s a delay in her response. Shocking. I texted her a bunch of times yesterday begging her to tell me exactly what happened between her and Hollis, but she refused to discuss it.
BRENNA: MH?
Seriously? She’s going to play dumb?
ME: Mike Hollis. AKA king of the bros. I want all the deets today or else this friendship is over.
* * *
BRENNA: I’ll miss u
* * *
ME: You think I’m bluffing? I’ve cut friends off for not tagging me in Insta posts. I’m ruthless, Bee.
* * *
BRENNA: Don’t believe u
* * *
ME: Arggghhh! Come on, please?? I can’t take it anymore. I must find out 1) his dick size and 2) WTF WERE U THINKING
After another long pause, she responds with: Fine. You win.
Despite my threats, I don’t push Brenna to talk about Hollis during the drive to Hastings. We discuss our classes instead, and I confess that I’m feeling a tad uneasy about my professor.
“I got a pervy vibe from him,” I say as I search for street parking.
“What’s his name?”
“Erik Laurie.”
“Never heard of him.”
There’s no reason why she would, unless she follows the fashion world closely, which I know she doesn’t. I give her a quick rundown of his credentials before describing the chronic winking.
“Maybe he doesn’t understand the concept?” she suggests. “Like, to him, winking could be another form of smiling. So if you give him a compliment, he says Thanks! Wink. And when he greets people, he goes, Nice to meet you! Wink.”
I bite my lip to stop from laughing. “Are you fucking with me right now?”