Page 136 of Any Port in a Storm

“Oh, but they can,” I say ruefully. “And unfortunately, I have to shape my draft to Dr. Spillinger’s whims, because she’s my advisor, and she’s the one who has to talk me up to the other profs when it’s time to defend this bad boy next spring.”

“I just don’t understand. You’ve been working so hard. And you’re so goddamn smart. What’s not to like?”

And here it is. My opportunity to tell her the whole truth. To set some of this burden down at someone else’s feet. I’m not sure I’m ready, but…I don’t think I can handle this on my own anymore. “It’s possible this is actually just about my draft. But also…there may have been…an incident. At school, last April.”

“An incident?”

I nod meekly.

“Laurel, what happened?”

My resolve to spill the beans is wavering in time with the sunlight dancing in through the window. “It doesn’t matter, okay? I’m just going to meet with Spillinger and straighten this out next week.”

Ivy purses her lips. “No, that’s not good enough. If something happened, I want to know what it was.”

“You’re not my mother, okay, Ivy? And even if you were, you couldn’t do anything to intervene. I’m 26 years old; I have to handle this on my own.” I take a deep breath. “I’m going to handle this.” Somehow.

“Fine. But as your super cool older cousin, I’d love to know what’s going on regardless.”

I smirk. “I’m sure you would.”

Ivy doesn’t respond. I know she’s waiting for me to break first.

And break I do. “Okay, fine,” I rush. “There was a guy.”

“And there it is.”

“Huh?”

She shrugs. “It’s always a guy in these stories, isn’t it?”

“I guess so, yes. In this case, it was a very cute guy in the history department. We started seeing each other, and things were going really well. Until it turned out that I wasn’t the only one who’d dated him.” I hope this vast oversimplification of my history with Nick is enough.

Ivy gasps. “No! Spillinger was sleeping with a student?”

“Right? I was as disgusted as you are when I found out. And Nick—that was his name, Nick—insisted everything with her was over. But I guess it wasn’t over for her. As soon as she found out Nick and I were together, she started getting really nasty toward me.”

Ivy’s shock is apparent. “Laurel, that has to be a violation of every HR rule your university has.”

“Oh, absolutely.” I admire my manicure. “And I’d report it, but she’s been tenured for quite some time, and I very much doubt they’re going to fire her. She hasn’t actually done anything wrong, see? Spillinger’s actually an evil genius. Nick was never her student, and they declared their relationship through some formal university process. And she isn’t even that much older. She might be 35? So the court of public opinion won’t even judge her all that harshly. Rule of half plus seven, and all that.” I sigh. “I still need her to like me so I can finish my dissertation and get out of there. So I’m holding off on reporting her, at least for now.”

Ivy considers me carefully. “But what about Nick?”

What about Nick indeed. I settle for a half-truth. “That fizzled out after a few months anyway. Nick’s great, but I was just so focused on school. Unfortunately, I think Spillinger is still holding a grudge. She used to love me, but it’s been extremely awkward ever since the first day she saw Nick and me holding hands outside the mailroom.”

“God, what drama!” Ivy shakes her head. “This is entirely insane. You realize that, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“But you’re kind of loving the drama, yes?”

Ivy’s made many comments like this throughout our growing-up years. She’s such an introvert that I think she perceives my ability to socialize without feeling awkward as a sign that I’m far more vivacious than I am. This is a big part of the reason I keep her at arm’s length—I’m not sure she totally gets me.

I make a big show of sticking out my tongue. “You suck.”

She seems to buy it. “Look, even if you like being the center of a forbidden love triangle, it’s not fair for you to have to jump through hoops with your dissertation because of it. You should tell someone. Or at the very least, be straight with Spillinger about it.”

Even if she doesn’t fully understand that I’m not a raging drama queen, I know she’s trying to help. And her advice makes a lot of sense. “I guess I could level with her when we meet next week.”