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“So you’re saying someone else is messy? That’s really shocking since I know what your room looked like growing up.”
“That’s artistic chaos. This is just lazy,” she said and left.
I loved my baby sister, and for her sake, I’d even cut her friend some slack. As long as the friend didn’t make disruptiveness a habit. Which, if Maria’s description of her was accurate, shouldn’t be a problem. Maybe I was grumpy because I had an eight-thirty class this semester, or maybe I was too stern with her because she was beautiful, and I didn’t usually notice that kind of thing, not in my classes. I shook my head and returned to work on my marketing proposal.
CHAPTER5
HAILEY
Iwas on a mission to recoup the impression I’d made in Rick’s class. So, I showed up early and took out my notes and studied them. My phone was on silent inside my bag, and it would stay there. There were only two other students in the huge classroom when the professor walked in. I glanced up and he met my eyes, gave me a friendly-ish half smile. The pull in my stomach startled me. The man didn’t just give me butterflies—he gave me full-on shivers. I swallowed hard and returned my attention to my notes from the last class.
Maria had told me that she’d seen her brother and smoothed things over with him, but I wasn’t going to step a toe out of line in this class. I had already failed at not drawing attention to myself, but I had a chance now to recede into the background.
“Good morning. I want to begin class by assigning groups for your strategy project. As you’ll see in the syllabus, your group will create a complex marketing strategy for a fictional corporation. This includes the brand messaging, identifying and targeting your key demographics and rolling out a thorough digital marketing plan. I’ve pasted the class roster onto this random generator to assign you to groups. This eliminates any question of fairness in the process, and you get your results instantly.”
He hit the ‘generate’ button and the names were sifted into twenty-eight groups of four. I scanned the screen and found my name. I was with two girls I’d never met and one guy who was in my intro seminar last year. All I remembered about him was that he was creepy. Great. The random generator assigned me to a project group with somebody who belonged in a mug shot on Law & Order: SVU, I thought with a groan.
The professor told us to take down the names of our group members and be sure to exchange contact information today. I was not looking forward to it, because I liked to work independently. I could count on myself to do things right, whereas my group project experiences were always crappy. There might be one other person who did part of the work, but mostly I ended up stuck doing the bulk of the heavy lifting every single time.
I wrote down their names and figured I’d look in the student directory later. I had better things to do after class, like hurrying to get to my next class. I glanced around and was immediately able to spot the creeper, my recently assigned teammate who used to stare at me all the time in the intro class. There he was, leering and giving off the same oh-hell-no vibe as the last time I saw him. Ugh. I swiveled my eyes right back to the presentation screen and tried not to pay attention to the sneaking suspicion that he was still watching me.
Without ever wavering in my concentration, I took tons of notes about the semester project. I tried to ignore the fact that it was such a huge part of my grade and I’d be spending like ten weeks working with these people. Maybe we could do everything by Meet and collaborate on Google Docs or something. I should be so lucky. I was dreading it, and there was no getting around the fact.
But I managed not to make so much as a sound during class—not even a sneeze—and I was on the way to redeeming myself as an inconspicuous workhorse student, just like I wanted to be in this class. Because Professor Esperanza was way too hot to handle, and I had no business thinking about handling him anyway.
When I went in for my evening shift at the diner, Maria was bussing a table because one of the bus boys didn’t show up for work. I pitched in and lent a hand.
“How was my bro’s class?” she asked.
“Just great,” I grumbled. “I’m in a group project with the creeper.”
“Ew, that guy from your class last semester that made you so uncomfortable? We hate him,” she said loyally. “It is the literal only time you’ve ever called and asked me to stay on the phone with you when you left the library. You thought he was following you, right?”
“Hewasfollowing me. But you saved me from being murdered and left in a dumpster.”
“And he’s in your group? Did you tell Rick?”
“No and I’m not going to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled that I’m going to have to deal with this guy up close and personal for like ten weeks. But I’m not giving the professor any reason to think I want special treatment because I’m your friend or that I’m not a hundred percent serious about this class. I got off on the wrong foot with him already and this would only make it worse. Asking to be reassigned to a different group is a total princess move. I’ll just deal with it,” I insisted.
“This dude in your group, he makes you feel unsafe, right? That’s a good enough reason to ask to be moved to a different group. Just do it now before anybody else has started their group work. It’ll be worse if you have to ask later on and people have assigned their jobs and started doing the project,” Maria said reasonably. I shook my head.
“That’s true, but I’m not asking at all. I won’t meet with him alone and I’ll make sure we’re always in a public place and that somebody knows where I’m at. Here,” I said, pulling out my phone and sending her a screenshot. “This is him.”
“Let me see. Um, no. That right there is a mean set of eyes. They look opaque. Like I wouldn’t mess with him, and I don’t scare easily, you know that. Did heleerin his student ID picture? Who does that?”
“Do you think maybe I’m just being paranoid?”
“He. Followed. You. From the library. At night. And he looks like a serial killer in an ID photo. You’re not being paranoid. You need to say something to Ricky about it. Give him a heads up to put the guy in an all-male group and maybe alert campus security. Under I think Title IX you can—”
“How do you know so much about college? Title IX?” I asked.
“Hey, I pay attention when my boring older brother talks. I take an interest. I’m not just a waitress who makes vases and crap out of clay. I’m a Renaissance woman with a working knowledge of federal regulations governing sexual harassment. Also, I audited a couple art history classes at the community college. I read the handbook online.”
“And you say I’m dedicated. Nobody reads the handbook,” I quipped.
“I’m nothing if not thorough,” she said as she wiped down the booth.
We went back to the kitchen and scraped the dirty dishes and chatted, but in the back of my mind I had that feeling that maybe she was right, and I was just being stubborn in the name of independence. Because I didn’t feel good about working with that guy in my project group.I’d just have to handle it, I told myself. The point of these group activities was to prepare us for having to collaborate in the workplace one day, with people we didn’t get to pick and choose. I resigned myself to enduring the group I was assigned and chalking it up to experience working with difficult people in less-than-ideal conditions.
