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Again, she scoffs. With her eyes trained on my face, she balls up the piece of paper in her hands and tosses it at me. I catch it as it lands against my chest.
“Whatever you say, Dr. Goode.” I don’t miss the way those words are seeping with cynicism.
Without another word, she marches out of the room, letting the door slam loudly behind her. A little struck by the entire encounter, I stand in shock for a moment before glancing down at the wad of paper in my hand.
Opening it up, I’m taken aback by the notes scrawled across the page. In her neat and meticulous handwriting, she has nearly every single word I spoke today written down. She even has a list of potential essay topics noted on the side—good essay topics too.
How would she even have these ideas? Has she read Paradise Lost before?
I flatten the page out as much as I can and slide it into my satchel before slinging the bag onto my shoulder. Revisiting every moment of that encounter, I make my way across campus toward my car.
I was already dreading the start of this semester, and now I’m suddenly feeling ten times worse.
Three
Sadie
“He said that?” Sage asks as she dries glasses behind the bar.
“Yes!” I reply as I fold pamphlets for tomorrow night’s demonstration. “He was a total asshat.”
“Luke? Really?” Her dark brows are pinched together as if she’s trying to imagine the entire scenario I just spelled out for her.
“Yes, Luke.”
“But he’s always so quiet and nice. I can’t even imagine him being so rude.”
I shrug. “Well, apparently, Luke and Dr. Goode are two different people.”
“Huh,” she says nonchalantly as she appears to contemplate it some more. “Are you going to drop his class?”
“I can’t,” I reply. “I’ve been putting off the English credits I need for my business degree, and that’s the only class that will fit into my schedule. If I drop it, I’ll have to graduate a year later than planned.”
“Bummer,” she says with her mouth twisted in disappointment.
“Yeah, major bummer.”
This entire week has been shit. First, there was that totally awkward encounter with Jax on Saturday night. He hasn’t texted me back since, and I’m trying not to take it personally, but before that lifeless quickie in the Ethereal Room, he and I would chat almost daily. Sure, it was mostly about the club and his visit, but now he won’t reply to me at all.
Then, Monday morning rolled around, and Luke—sorry, Dr. Goode—had to go and remind me that all men do, in fact, suck.
I don’t know why I even try. It feels like everywhere I look for love or attention is one letdown after another. Not that I was looking at Luke for any chance of romance—hard pass—but I’m just so tired of being hopelessly disappointed over and over again by men.
For once, I just want a man to surprise me. Blow me away.
My standards could not be lower.
I mean…look at Sage and Adam. She should have hated him for the way he was before they got together. He was pompous, ignorant, and self-righteous. But then he had to go and fall in love with her, and now they’re married with a baby on the way, and he treats her like the queen she is. He’d kiss the floor for her.
I’m not asking for anyone to kiss the floor. But, I don’t know, just be nice to me. If a man said one nice thing about me, I’d probably marry him on the spot. That’s how low the bar is at the moment.
Is it me?
No. Surely not. I have so much to offer, even if I do tend to show up late for everything and never seem to have my shit together. And I still live at home with my family.
Okay, other than that, I manage a sex club, and I’m damn good at it. I get stellar grades at school. I have a luscious ass that I’m pretty proud of, and I have gotten a lot of compliments on my blow job skills.
All things considered, I should have men knocking down my door. But I refuse to settle, and every day it feels more and more like that’s what is going to be expected of me.
