He most likely didn’t mean anything by it. Adam did not know me well enough to know that I only left our dorm to go to class—though I’m sure Ariana mentioned it once or twice. Still, his words didn’t sound great to my ears.
“Yes, but she advised we get started early,” I asserted. “If you’re not going to help on the project, you don’t get to use my dorm to hook up with my roommate. I get your priorities are all wrong, but it’s not right for me to be booted off of my own room just so you can get laid while I’m doing all your work for you.”
“You said you didn’t want any help!” Adam exclaimed, giving Ariana an alarmed look.
Ariana crossed her arms. “Well, it’s my room too. Can’t you do this at the library or something?”
I groaned in disbelief and saved my progress. It was becoming evident that they would not leave until I did. Adam’s hand ran up the back of her shirt, and I felt a pang of something in my gut. Annoyance? Reluctance? Jealousy?
It couldn’t be jealousy.
“Fine,” I said, “but you should know that you have to take part during the presentation. The rules say so.”
I handed Adam the syllabus as I closed my laptop. His eyes widened.
“What is it?” Ariana asked.
“She’s right,” he muttered. “I have to speak during the presentation. Great.”
He handed me back the syllabus with a dark look.
“You can work off my slides, but there’s only so much guiding I can do,” I explained. “You’re going to have to take the time to learn at least a few things, okay?”
“But you were going to do all of the—”
“Come on, Adam,” Ariana hissed, crossing her arms. “You can do your part of the project. Just shut up so she can leave and we can . . . you know.”
Adam shrugged her off.
“What do I have to learn?” he asked, urgently. “I have to get a C on this project, Phoebe.”
“A C?” I scoffed. “I could pull a C if you drooled on yourself the whole time. We’re getting an A, McMasters. Simple as that.”
As I stuffed my backpack full of books, Ariana tugged on the loop of his belt.
“Why do you need a C?” she asked. “As long as you get a D, you stay off academic probation. Phi Alpha Alpha doesn’t have a minimum GPA requirement.”
“It’s not for Phi Alpha Alpha,” he groaned. “It’s for the team. I get kicked off if I don’t get a C.”
Ariana’s eyes bulged.
“You’ll get kicked off the team?” she asked, incredulously. She turned to me. “You better make sure Adam gets a good grade on his project. The entire school will hate you if you’re the reason we lose our star quarterback.”
I frowned. Considering that his grade was tied to mine, and I was an A kind of girl, I hardly doubted that it would be my fault if Adam McMasters fell short of a C. The suggestion made me feel a little insulted, to be honest.
“Yeah, because it’ll be my fault if he fails,” I scoffed. “Whatever. If you guys want to waste your valuable study time getting STIs, that’s your business. I actually want to do better than a C, so I’ going to get some work done.”
I started to walk out the door, but Adam stopped me.
“Where you going?” he asked. “We didn’t mean to run you out or anything.”
I rolled my eyes because of course, they did. “I’m going to the library. You know, where people study and learn things?” I retorted, sarcastically. “You should try it sometime. It’s a pretty cool place.”
And with that, I walked out and slammed the door behind me.
4
Rush Night
The library was loud. In fact, I probably could have gotten more studying done in my dorm, despite the Adam and Ariana distraction. Considering I didn’t get much work done at the library, I decided that I was going to commit to finishing a good portion of the project the next day. With the assistance of coffee and perseverance, I could finish early enough to teach Adam his speech.
“Thanks for taking off last night,” Ariana said, solemnly the next morning. She strapped on one of her high heels and looked up at me with a half-smile. “I’m so nervous I feel like I could vomit.”
“Why?” I asked, focused on my laptop.
“I’ve been talking about it for weeks,” Ariana whined. “Sorority rush night! You know, when I pick which sorority I want to join?”
“Ah, right,” I replied, typing in a quick web search. “Great. Adam will be busy with that Phi Alpha Alpha place and be even less available to study.”
“Frat rush night isn’t until next week,” she corrected me. “You better get all your studying in before then, though. As a sophomore, he’ll be busy every weekend recruiting until pledging.”
“Well, I guess I’ll cash in on my Adam time now,” I chuckled. “So, what happens if you don’t get accepted? Do you just pick another sorority?”
She looked down at the floor.
“I-I don’t know,” she muttered. “I didn’t think about that.”
I gave her a quick smile. “Well, I hope they accept you.”
She looked surprised. In fact, I was surprised. It was probably the most supportive thing I ever said to her.
“Thanks, Phoebe. That’s sweet of you.”
“No problem.”
Suddenly, she looked sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you just nervous or what?”
She shook her head and sighed.
“I just wish you’d get out more. Everyone is going to be at rush, and you’re going to stay here and work on a project that isn’t due for two months. Tell me that doesn’t bother you a little bit.”
I thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “It doesn’t. That’s why they’ll be part of the dropout statistic and I won’t,” I replied, thoughtfully. “No offense.”
She frowned.
“I’d rather be a dropout than a pretentious bitch.”
With those stinging words, she walked out.
Several hours passed and I had accomplished much less than I planned on. My mind kept wandering to the phrase Ariana left me with. I never meant to be pretentious.
A knock on the door broke through my reverie. I walked to the door and peered out the peephole. It was Adam.
“Can I help you?” I asked, opening the door just enough to talk to him.
“Yeah, is uh—is Ariana here?” he asked, peering into the room. “I’ve been trying to call her all night.”
I furrowed my brow. I figured he would know about the sorority rush.
“Sorority rush night,” I reminded him. “She’s probably just busy.”
He slapped his forehead.
“I’m such an idiot,” he grumbled, running his hands through his hair. “She’s just been so much drama lately. She told me to call her, and I didn’t want her mad at me, so I did. When she didn’t answer, I thought something was wrong and—”
“Adam, calm down,” I instructed. “Come in. Sit down. I’m sure she’s fine. You can talk to her when she gets back.”
He followed me inside and sat down on Ariana’s bed. I kept working, hoping he would sit in silence. Unfortunately, he seemed incapable of doing so.
“I just don’t get why she acts this way,” he went on. “She tells me I’m an asshole for not calling enough, tells me to call her at seven, and then doesn’t even pick up.”
I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes. He would never shut up unless I reassured him.
“Adam, I’m sure it’s nothing. She probably just forgot what day it was when she asked you to call her. She was really frazzled this morning.”
As my fingers started to move across the keyboard again, Adam sighed.
“I wish I could just date smart girls like you,” he mumbled. “Girls that aren’t so high-maintenance.”
“No one is saying you have to date Ariana,” I rationalized. “There are loads of other girls for you to meet. If you don’t like her, don’t date her.”
He put his face in his hands.
“I do like her, though. I-I think.”
I was tired of fixing his problems. I pulled a piece of paper from my notebook and handed it to him.
“Grab one of her textbooks from the shelf there,” I ordered. “Write her a note. Tell her how you feel. Get it all out.”
He stared at me for a second before finally getting the memo. Then, he smiled and started working on his note. As he did, my eyes returned to the screen and the problem I was struggling with. I hated that I couldn’t get past it, mostly because I had to solve it before creating the slide.
“I don’t get this,” I groaned. “God, why did I pick the hardest topic?”
Frustrated, I let my face fall into my hands.
“What’s the question?” he asked.
I stole a peek back at Adam who was still hunched over the textbook, fussing with his note.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” I mumbled. “I’ll figure it out.”
He frowned.
“Tell me,” he insisted, arching one of his brows. “Maybe I can help.”
I scoffed but showed him the problem anyway. He furrowed his brow.
“You see my problem?” I chuckled. “Just worry about your note to Ariana. I’ll get it figured out.”
He gave me a confused look but went back to scrawling across the piece of paper I handed him.
Decided to ignore him, I turned back to the laptop. Several silent minutes later, the problem was still mocking me.
“You still having trouble with that?”.
I gave him an annoyed look. “It’s a hard problem,” I asserted.
Without looking at me, his fingers moved making a paper airplane out of his note. I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the unsolvable problem before me. Then, I felt something in my hair. Frowning, I felt around until I found the object responsible.
I brought it to my line of sight. It was a tiny paper airplane.
“Are you kidding me?” I shouted, getting to my feet. “I’m working on your project, and you’re throwing shit at me? Get out of here!”
“But—”
“OUT!”
He hurried out the door, glancing back at me with an apologetic face. I almost felt sorry, but throwing things was entirely out of line.
Once I was alone again, I unfolded the tiny paper airplane to see what he wrote for Ariana—my curiosity justified by the fact that Adam threw the thing at me, therefore giving it to me. What I found, however, made my jaw drop.
There, scribbled in god-awful chicken scratches, was the answer to the problem. My heart pounded as I double checked his work, but it checked out. I had spent hours struggling with the exercise, yet he finished it in a matter of minutes.
Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as I thought.
5
A Failed Experiment
Adam avoided our dorm room for the rest of the weekend. Doubting that he was going to church on Sunday, I figured that he and Ariana were still having problems. Part of me wished she’d just forgive him so I wouldn’t have to wait until Wednesday’s lab to talk to him.
“Has Adam ever shown you any signs of being smart?” I asked as Ariana flipped through TV channels. I was well aware that the question wasn’t appropriate for a number of reasons. However, I couldn't stop thinking about his answer to my unsolvable problem.
Ariana laughed and shook her head.
“What? No . . . He’s the biggest idiot on the planet,” she said. “Take now, for example, we had a fight about how he was smothering me—which he totally was, by the way—and then, he just disappeared. He hasn’t even texted me in days.” She shook her head and added, “Idiot.”
“Interesting,” I murmured.
Ariana raised her eyebrows.
“Interesting why?” she asked. “Did he say something about me?”
My face became red, and I shook my head. Of course, I was lying, but I did not want any drama. However, by the sounds of it, there was no escaping it with Ariana Pela.
“Oh no! No, no, no. I just was hoping he wasn’t going to ruin our project,” I fibbed. “Looks like he’s going to, though. Great.”
“Adam ruins everything,” she scoffed. “Be careful working with him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
I nodded, though Adam had given me an entirely different story.
“Yeah, I’ll be careful. Thanks.”
Finally, Wednesday came. I was overloaded with work from other classes, so I had not had much time to work on our project. I was starting to kick myself for taking Latin and Russian at the same time, especially when I needed to focus on my science studies.
“Got any more work done on the project?” Adam asked, plopping in the chair beside me.
I shot him a glare. “No.”
He frowned. “Why not? You were so focused on it when I left your dorm the other day,” he said. “I figured you’d be done by now.”
“Well, I’m not,” I snapped. “I’ve been overloaded with other homework. It’s getting done, though. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, because you’re getting out of all the work,” I murmured under my breath.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to do the whole project by yourself,” he defended himself. “If you want more help, just let me know. I’ll work something out.”
“As you should!” I hissed. “I only said I’d do the project by myself because I thought you were an idiot. Turns out you can solve some problems better than me, so you aren’t getting out of it anymore.”
“Fine,” he replied, airily, as he reached into his binder. He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to me. “Work around this.”
It was a schedule. A full schedule.
“You have one afternoon a week free,” I muttered. “Are you kidding? We can’t get anything done with all of this in the way.”
He shrugged. “I’m a busy guy.”
Dr. Strickland started her daily slideshow. When she got to the lab plans, I realized we were about to do our first dissection, so I wanted to pay close attention. Doing it incorrectly wasn’t an option.
My eyes traveled to Adam. He was playing a game on his phone.
“Pay attention,” I hissed. “We only get directions once.”
He ignored me.
Dr. Strickland started handing out what looked like baking trays but with dead frogs instead of cookies. Adam didn’t even look up when she put our tray in front of us.
I grabbed the scalpel and got started. Dr. Strickland’s slideshow had been in-depth, which made me confident to start right away. In fact, by the time my classmates started the assignment, I was almost halfway done.
“Wow, amazing work, Phoebe!” Dr. Strickland said, stopping in front of us. “I’ve never seen a woman take to dissection so quickly. You’re a natural!”
I blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing really—”
“Adam, have you done any work on this?” she asked. “Both partners have to work on the lab project for credit.”
Adam gave her a confused look. She raised her brows.
“Help Phoebe. You aren’t partners so she can carry you through this class,” she scolded.
He rolled his eyes. “Alright.”
I was horrified. I did not want to give him the scalpel—but I did anyway. Rules are rules.
He looked overwhelmed as soon as the tray was in front of him. He snapped on his latex gloves and gave me a nervous glance.
“How do I do this?” he whispered.
“I told you to watch the slideshow.”
He rolled his eyes and started slicing away. There was no thought process, no care. He just sliced until frog organs were everywhere—most not fully intact. He ruined the project—the project I had perfected.
“You idiot!” I shrieked. “You ruined it!”
Dr. Strickland turned on her heel and raised her brows at the sound of my voice. Her dress shoes click-clacked across the classroom as
she approached us. The closer she got the more I hated Adam for his moronic contribution. Surely, once she saw the mess he made she would fail us both.
“Oh, Phoebe, I’m sure it’s not that ba—oh wow,” she said, her eyes widening. “You really did a number on your subject there, Adam. Not sure you’re going to get much more out of it to dissect, considering you kind of . . .”
“Sliced it up beyond recognition?” I interrupted, heatedly. “Nice going, Adam.”
“I tried my best.” He shrugged. “If we’re gonna be lab partners, you’ll have to get used to it.”
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t taking responsibility.
“Adam, you destroyed our project.”
“It was an accident, and it’s not like I give a damn anyway. When it comes down to it, the school will make Strickland pass me.”
“Some of us aren’t leaning on a football scholarship,” I said beyond angry. “Academics are all I have.”
He gave me a dirty look.
“And my social life is all I have. If I become a science geek, I’ll be giving up all of my friends. My reputation. You need to understand some things are more important than a grade.”
I scoffed. “And you need to understand some things are more important than what other people think.”
He had nothing to say.
We were silent the rest of class.
6
The Real Adam
I didn’t visit the dining hall often. Aside from the unlimited food, I couldn’t understand why people spent so much time there. Instead, I would buy microwave noodles and eat in my dorm. However, there was one day a week I always ate at the dining hall: Friday, aka Eggs Benedict Day.
Just like every other Friday, after scooping a few servings of my favorite dish onto my plate, I sat down at a table—alone. My chosen table was in the corner, away from all of the ruckus. College kids were always loud. Perhaps I was an old soul, but I hated it. I just wanted my space.
“I can’t believe what she wore to the Tau Alpha Epsilon party!” I heard a familiar voice shriek.
Virgin Playbook: Phoebe's First: College Football Sports Romance Page 2
