Cowboy Professor_A Western Romance Love Story

by Ivy Jordan

  “Seriously? What about all the crap you were before about how wrong it was?”

  “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.” I left some money on the table and we walked out. Jason had his girlfriend backed up against the driver’s side of his car and he was shoving his tongue down her throat.

  Chapter Eight

  Ava

  Human anatomy was notorious for being one of the most difficult classes at the university. I regretted taking it immediately. Now I was scrambling to keep up. I would pass the course, but it wasn’t worth the time I had to put into it. So, it was no surprise that I was sitting in a library booth with my nose stuffed into the book.

  There were more than a hundred terms to learn, and three more chapters to read. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get the work done, but that was always the way things worked. There was never enough time in one day.

  We were learning about the wrist, which might as well have been a complex organism, with bones scattered around inside it. Every little bone had a name, and they were all in Latin. Students would learn simple words that were used in the naming convention. It helped them remember the names.

  I had a string of incoherent Latin passing through my head, and my eyes were starting to droop. I shook my head and went back to my papers. I’d written down the names of the wrist bones. Now I was moving onto the ligaments.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” Nicole was standing in front of the booth.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were a librarian.”

  “I will get you back for that.” My head was spinning when I got up and braced my hand on the chair. “Where’s my coffee?”

  Her hands were empty. “You can’t expect me to get you coffee every time I pull you out of here. I have a life, you know.”

  “Then we’re going to get coffee.” I led Nicole to a coffee kiosk sitting outside the library where more than a dozen students were waiting.

  “I’ve got things to do,” I said, “I can’t be waiting around like this.”

  “I thought you wanted coffee,” Nicole said.

  “I do. I need it. I was falling asleep at my desk.”

  Nicole gasped. “I knew it. You moved into the library. Where do you keep your clothes?”

  “I hate you.” We took our coffee to a table in the courtyard.

  “Who are you tutoring today?” Nicole asked.

  “Tutoring?” I took a sip of my coffee.

  “Yes. You’re a tutor, remember?”

  “Oh, my God. I am.” I hopped up out of my seat and pulled out my phone. It was nearly 10. “I have to go.”

  I crashed through the doors to the library and took the stairs to the tutoring center. When I stopped at the entrance, I could see Channing sitting in the study room. He caught my eye and started to get up.

  “Hey,” he came out to greet me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know I’m late. I can give you a discount for the session if you want.”

  “No,” I followed him back into the study room, “I was just here studying.” He had his books open on the table and his phone sitting nearby. He seemed to be taking notes.

  “Well, I am sorry, because that was too long to wait. I’m glad you’re willing to stay.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he went back to his physics book. “I have a lot of questions.” He had a list of terms he needed defined on a notebook paper. We went through them, and I answered every question as best as I could.

  I was explaining Newton’s third law of motion to him when he interrupted me. “You know, you are brilliant.”

  “Thank you,” I blushed.

  “I can’t understand any of this stuff. Physics is strange to me. I have to be able to visualize something.”

  “It is strange,” I said, staring down at the book. “I think a lot of other people have that problem.”

  “You’re right.” He went back to the book. “Hey, you never told me what your major was.”

  “I didn’t, did I?” I pointed down at his list of questions.

  We went through the definitions of Newton’s laws, reviewed thermodynamics, and moved on to energy.

  “Energy is defined as the capacity for activity or the exertion of power.”

  “Okay,” he wrote something down on his list. “Well, what is your major? Now I have to know.”

  “What do you care?”

  “I’m curious is all.”’

  “I’m an English major.”

  “Why was that so hard?”

  “I don’t do small talk.” I pointed back down at the book, and he looked back down at his list.

  “Why don’t you come to any of the games? Everyone knows you, but they never see you.”

  “I work.” I kept my eyes on the book. “And I study, a lot.”

  “Too much, maybe.”

  “Kinetic energy is anything that has motion. It’s moving. Potential kinetic energy is, uh…”

  He was staring at me.

  “What?”

  “You really are all business.”

  “Yes, I am. Let’s study.”

  “The guys were right about you. You’re a prude.”

  “Is that what they say?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. They’ve all been gunning for me.”

  “Are they really persistent?” he asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “Just know that we’re not all like that.”

  “Let’s get back to this list.”

  We went through basic physics terms, then began moving into the math. He didn’t need to ask anything about the mechanics of the equations. He knew what they were and he knew how to use them. He was more worried about memorizing them. The math took up the majority of the session. By the time the session was over, we were both ready to fall asleep.

  “Would you be able to make an appointment for Friday?” I asked.

  “No, I have to travel for the game, but I’ll be back Monday.” He pulled out his wallet and took out a hundred-dollar bill. “This is for the two weeks anyway.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s worth it. You’re a lot better than I thought you would be.” He held the money out to me.

  “Fine,” I snatched it away. “I’ll see you then.”

  I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to stay awake in my booth while I struggled to memorize human anatomy.

  Chapter Nine

  Channing

  I closed my eyes and started running. My thoughts drifted away, and I focused on nothing but the act of moving my feet. I rounded the bend and rested my eyes on the finish line. The coach was leaning over the track with his stopwatch in hand. I barely noticed him call out my time. I was already racing back to the locker room. I needed a shower.

  I was waking up sore every morning. Running was the only thing I could do to ease my muscles, so I found myself jogging everywhere I went. I was beginning to work in a routine before practice. I needed it. Otherwise, I’d feel restless throughout the day.

  The shower was the reward at the end of the workout. The water washed over all the right places and eased my muscles. It relaxed my shoulders and my thighs. I needed a shower like that every day, almost as much as I needed a workout.

  When I turned off the water and started toweling off, I heard feet trampling past my shower. Someone turned the water on, and I could see steam the steam rising above the barrier to my right. I walked out and saw Jason jump into the shower. “Looks like I’m still in the game. You ain’t taking my place,” I yelled.

  “You’ll fail. Everyone does,” he said.

  I walked over to my locker and started getting dressed. Jason was the star quarterback when he was a freshman, but he failed most of his classes. Most of his academic career was patchy. He was a failure, taking whatever classes he could so he could hold onto the dream of graduating. He’d end up living in a ratty apartment complex scrambling to pay his electric, if he found work at al
l.

  The rest of the team was already filing out of the locker room by the time I got out of the shower, so I dressed quickly. Just as I was about to leave, the coach called out. “Barker.” I got up and walked into his office.

  “Yes, Coach.”

  He motioned towards the chair in front of his desk. Then, once I sat down, he said, “Did you get your paper signed?”

  “Yes, Coach.”

  “Well, where is it?”

  “It’s in my bag in my locker.”

  “Fine, I’ll check it later. How is the tutoring going? Are you learning anything or are you staring at the tutor’s tits like the rest of them?”

  “Both,” I said.

  “Good, just get your grades up. Are you passing your classes?”

  “I’ll pass, Coach.”

  “Good, you’d better. I don’t want to have to take you off the field. We’ll lose.” He started to get up. “Are you ready for the game?”

  “Yes, Coach.” I stood up and followed him out of his office. There was a yellow school bus waiting outside for us behind the locker room when I walked out. The rest of the men were on the bus waiting for me.

  The other schools had oversized double-decker buses with flat screens and different seating areas. We got a school bus. The thing soaked up the sun, turning the interior into an oven.

  Mike and I sat in the back. He was hunched over in the seat across from me, covered in sweat. “You need to push them to get us a bus,” he told me. “This is not okay.”

  “I’ve been asking the coach all year, and he just keeps laughing me off. It’s never going to happen.”

  “It’s not fair.” Mike said. “I have to get out of here.” He slumped back in his seat.

  “It’s not that bad,” I said.

  “To you it’s not. You’re the quarterback. You’re invincible.”

  “Hey, screw you, boy. You’re the one that puts the ball in the hole.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I?” He beamed. “Are you passing your classes?”

  “Yes,” I said, “and you don’t have to check up on me to make sure that I’m doing my work.”

  “Yes, I do. You get easily distracted,” Mike declared.

  “Easily distracted? What are you talking about?”

  “Falling asleep in class, playing with your phone in class—you do it all. Make sure you’re paying attention.”

  “Fine.” I leaned my head back in the seat. The walls of the bus were metal and white hot.

  “So how’s it going with your tutor?”

  “You mean have I done it yet? No, but I will.”

  “You won’t do it,” Mike said. “She won’t give it up to anyone. She’s probably asexual or something.”

  “She’s not asexual,” I said. “She’s definitely into men.”

  “How can you tell? Does she look at you?”

  “Not at my body, really. It’s different. I think there’s chemistry, but I can’t tell.”

  “You’re probably reading too much into what she’s doing. She isn’t interested in anyone. She’s made that quite clear to all of us.”

  “I’m not backing off. I’m going to be her first.” I said. “I’m doing it.”

  “You’re kidding yourself, man. She’s going to see you coming.”

  “That won’t matter if she can’t resist me,” I said.

  “You’re a dog.”

  “Hey,” I said, “I just like women. I’m not a man-whore.”

  Mike turned to look out the window. I watched the highway pass by. There were small shops and trailer parks at first. Then the city gave way to desert, miles and miles of nothing but dirt and spiny bushes. It took hours for us to get back into the city again.

  Chapter Ten

  Ava

  The area surrounding the university was mostly student housing. There were thousands of little duplexes and houses available for students to rent. I lived in a tiny, one bedroom apartment. The couch and TV were old, and there were clothes on the floor in my room. I didn’t care what my house looked like. It was a place for me to sleep and sit.

  I kept it generally clean, but nobody ever came over, so I got sloppy. For the most part, all I did when I was there was sleep. I rarely used the TV, and I almost never ate there. Some days, though, I liked to turn my bed into my office and spend my time studying at home.

  I was sitting cross-legged on my bed with a stack of papers on one leg and my book resting on the other. The morning had gone by slowly, but I got a lot memorized. Now I was moving onto calculus. I was terrible at math. It was the only thing that really challenged me, and it was starting to tie in with all of the rest of my science classes. It was getting to be a problem, so I decided I needed to go on a study binge. Today was nothing but calculus.

  I was getting frustrated by it. My head hurt, and all I wanted to do was turn off the lamp and go to sleep. But I had to push through. I couldn’t fall behind. I kept my eyes on the book and started taking down notes. I found it was easier to get through the problems when I wrote them down.

  I was halfway through the chapter when something vibrated next to my foot. I jolted back, startled, then realized it was my phone. It was my mother. She sent me a text message asking me about how I was. I dialed her number.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she sounded tired.

  “Mom, how are you? How’s Chelsea?”

  “She’s good. They’re starting to teach her cursive, so she keeps practicing and running up to show me.”

  “You should send me a picture.” I laid my head back on the wall.

  “I will. She’s pretty good at it. I’m thinking of getting her a calligraphy set.”

  “You should give her my old oil painting set. I’ll bet she’d love that.”

  “You’re right. I haven’t even thought of that. Is it up in the basement?” my mom asked.

  “I think it is. Tell me if you don’t find it. You sound exhausted, Mom.”

  “They’ve got me working breakfast and lunch at Finnigan’s, and they open at 6, so I’ve been running around since before dawn. I’ve got to get to Charlie’s here in a couple hours.”

  “How are your tips?” I asked. “Are you two gonna make it?”

  “I should.”

  “You should? You can’t rely on should. I need to know that you’ve got everything covered, because if you don’t, I can help you.”

  “I don’t need you doing that, Ava. I’m fine, really.”

  “You’re still getting food boxes; we both know you are. Mom, Chelsea’s a growing girl. She can’t survive on canned sweet potatoes and diner burgers. She needs real food and decent clothes. You can have that if I start sending money home.”

  “But you’ve got your own life to worry about. I don’t need you sending me all your money. You’re just getting started, and you’re going to school. You need that money more than any of us. I don’t want you to have to struggle.”

  “I’m not struggling. I’m making more than enough to pay for myself.”

  “You need to save what you have,” my mom insisted.

  “Not while Chelsea’s surviving off of diner food. Look, we both know that you and Chelsea need the money. Don’t refuse it. That would just be dumb. I’m sending you something at the end of next week.”

  “How are your grades, Ava?”

  “It’s hard work, but I’m making it.”

  “And you’re going to keep it up, aren’t you?” my mom asked.

  “I am. You know me. I’m going to follow this through till the end.”

  “I have no doubt,” she said.

  “I’m sending you the money,” I insisted, “and you’re going to take it. I’m not going to let you two suffer.”

  “Thank you, Ava. I don’t need the money, but I suppose I will take it.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” I said. “I have to go, I’m sorry. I’ve got so much work to do.”

  “Take care,” my mom thanked me again and left me to my calculus. I couldn’t focu
s on the books, so I put it away and got up. I had to get out of bed sometime. I showered and found myself something to wear. When I was done, I was feeling rejuvenated, so I went back to my calculus.

  I spent too much time showering. I should’ve been studying. I was going to get behind if I wasn’t careful, but I still couldn’t concentrate. The numbers scrambled together on the page, and I couldn’t read them. I set my book down, turned off the light, and laid down. Maybe sleep would help.

  My phone was vibrating again. I didn’t want to answer it. I just wanted to sleep, and maybe get some work done tonight. It just kept ringing over and over again. Finally, I picked it up. “Hello?”

  “I’m outside.” It was Nicole.

  “What do you mean you’re outside?”

  “I’m getting worried about you. You’re shutting yourself in so I’m kidnapping you so you can take me to lunch.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just let me in, and start getting ready.” I opened my front door and she was standing outside.

  “Get in here. Don’t just show up at my house.”

  “You weren’t at the library,” she walked in, “so I started to worry.”

  I closed the door behind her. “Well, I’m not going.”

  “Oh, yes you are. You haven’t been out of the house all weekend. Admit it.”

  “I will not.” I stomped into my room and sat back down on my bed, where I belonged.

  Nicole followed me in. “So it’s true. You’ve been here this whole time.”

  “What kind of food are you making me buy you?”

  “I don’t know,” she sat down at the foot of the bed. “What should we get?”

  “I don’t know. This home invasion was your idea. I was happy here.” She stroked her chin. “If you don’t know what we’re getting, then forget about it.”

  “Noodle House.”

  The prospect of thick noodles and broth sounded appetizing. “Alright, but you have to get out of my room. Now. I’m changing.”

  The Noodle House was a hidden masterpiece sitting in a remote corner of downtown. There was a neon sign with a flickering bowl of noodles above the door. The steam lines above the bowl had burnt out. It looked like somebody had renovated a studio apartment. They added a divider between the kitchen and lobby, where they kept two salvaged booths and an old school table covered with a white cloth.