Page 36 of Don't Be in Love

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I had saw you through the window talking to that gentleman. I never see anyone I know this early, let alone one of my students.” Her cheeks wrinkled as she set her teacup down. Theclinkwas muffled by the abundance of people ordering at the counter behind us.

“That was Marty. I usually come closer to seven, but he’s been here every time. This was his last Sunday before returning to New York,” I explained.

I folded and unfolded my hands in my lap. This couldn’t have been worse timing. I was wearing a raggedy T-shirt that was three sizes too big, and I was ninety percent sure that there were two circles of sweat underneath my sleeves. I was not an angelic runner. Whereas she looked straight out of a home design magazine with a blue and white striped blouse, gold bangles on her wrists, and pink blush on her cheeks.

“I’m happy you’re getting to know people, even if they’re New Yorkers.” She laughed with the vibrancy of a hydrangea bush. “It can be difficult to adjust being abroad away from family. Many of the students struggle with it the first month.”

Couldn’t have been easier, actually.

“It hasn’t been too bad of an adjustment,” I smiled, hoping that it sounded like,I’m malleable. I can adjust to anything! Like a person necessary for an internship of someone you may know.

“Something about that doesn’t surprise me. The work you’ve been passing in has been exceptional, to say the least. Especially for a transfer student. I’ve been teaching some of the same students since they entered as first years and they’ve never grown. It’s no surprise that you’re here on a full scholarship. You work very hard. ” She waved her finger the same way she did in class during presentations to make sure everyone was paying attention.

My chest filled like a balloon. Instead of helium or confetti though, it was packed with pride. “Thank you so much. The class means a lot to me.”

“I can tell. I only imagine what you’ll accomplish after graduation.” She stabbed the muffin with her fork and raised it to her mouth. But she paused. “If you ever need a recommendation, I’d be more than happy to write you one.”

The chair almost collapsed beneath me. “That would be incredible, thank you,” I responded, trying my best not to sound like I just had my Sylvie Emmerson Fan Club dream come to life.

“Of course. Companies need marketers with an attention to detail and work ethic like yours.” She took a bite of the muffin and swallowed. “How have the rest of your classes been? Oh my, that bad?”

I pressed my lips together trying not to laugh. “It’s manageable.”

“Don’t tell me my class is the worst,” she asked, dreading the answer based on theVat the center of her eyebrows.

“No, no! Not at all.” Her assignments were the sum of everything I loved about marketing. Branding. Slide decks. Content creation. Campaign brainstorming. The only downside was doing it all over again with Dorian. “Professor Dover’s hundred-page assignment haunts me while I sleep.”

“Oh no, you have Professor Dover?” She whistled. “The Doom Paperas the students call it. He assigns it every semester. I wouldn’t worry though. You’ll do just fine,” she reassured me.

I’d feel fine when the assignment was done.

“Well, I’ve taken enough of your morning. I’ll let you get on with the rest of your weekend. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” She patted my hand, standing up and collecting her bag and a few papers.

“It was nice seeing you, Professor.” I smiled.

“Enjoy the rest of your Sunday. Oh, and Ms. Adorno.” She held onto the back of my chair and lowered her voice.

“Be careful about who you spend time with on campus. The Board is very … keen on how scholarship students act outside of academics. The professors are all very aware that most of the students would be perfectly comfortable if they didn’t find jobs after graduation. But I know how hard you’re working towards this. Who you associate yourself with can tarnish your image inside and outside the university. And you understand how important your brand is more than anyone. So I’d stay away from Mr. Blackwood if I were you.”

14

Don’t Fall Asleep in Libraries — Adelaide

“Adelaideeee.”

I jolted in my seat as Mia’s hand waved in front of my eyes.

“Hello there. Welcome back.” She smiled as I blinked fast and hard, trying to remember why my computer was resting upside down on the table. Flipping it right side up, I was met with a blinking screen, like TV static in the 1960s.

Oh right. It had decided to ruin my life and stop working. I began randomly holding buttons down. That’d work, right?

It didn’t.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Giving myself a five minute break.”

“With your eyes closed?”