by Ward, Alice
“No,” I replied dryly. I checked my watch; it was 2:25 and our official session had been over for ten minutes.
“Our newest resort is opening there in June. I’d love to take you,” he said, leaning forward again, his eyes on mine. “We could stay as long as we’d like and come back tanned and rested up for fall semester.”
I stared at him. Was he serious? Playing me? Did he enjoy toying with women? “We just met an hour ago and you’re inviting me on an extended tropical vacation? That’s more than a little forward, don’t you think?”
“Good point, I’m glad you mentioned it,” he continued without missing a beat. “If we’re going to Fiji together, we really should get to know each other better first. How about we have dinner tonight? My treat. And then you can come to the party we’re having at the house next week. I’ll keep taking you out and spoiling you, and eventually you’ll realize that running away with me for the summer is a brilliant idea.”
Oh my god! Is he seriously hitting on me?
“Look, Mr. Montgomery…” I began.
“Mr. Montgomery? Why so formal suddenly?”
“Because I want to make it clear that our relationship is strictly professional,” I told him. “I’m your tutor, nothing more. I’m sure you’ve heard stories about my mother. Hell, half of her seminar on the Modern Feminist Movement is autobiographical. But you should know that compared to her, I’m a prude. I have no interest in dinner, or your frat party, or your island vacation. I’m here to help you with your coursework, that’s all.”
“You’re too serious,” he scolded with a look that made my jaw clench.
“And you’re too immature,” I countered. “We’d be a horrible match, which is all the more reason to drop this subject.”
“I’ll drop it for now,” he replied with a grin. “But mark my words, Kennedy. I’ll find a way to get you to loosen up and have some fun.”
“I have plenty of fun,” I assured him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, our session ended fifteen minutes ago and I’m late for my meeting with Sidra.”
I slid my tablet into my messenger bag and pulled the strap onto my shoulder. Jackson stayed in his chair.
“I’ll see you Thursday,” I said as I stepped out of the cubicle.
“I can’t wait,” he called after me.
***
“God, I’m so glad it’s starting to warm up. I’d almost forgotten what the sun looks like,” Lauren said as we walked around the quad. It was four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon and we were passing out flyers for our Future Leaders of America Food Drive.
“I can’t believe the semester is already half over,” I told her, handing flyers out to a group of students. “It seems like we just finished up the holiday drive.”
My mother had mocked me when I told her I’d joined FLA; she’d declared that it was only a matter of time before I joined The Young Republicans Association and started shopping at Talbots. That may have been what the organization was like when she was at school, but here our focus on is helping others. Tens of thousands of Boston children are enrolled in their school’s free lunch program and for many, the lunch is their sole meal for the day. There are many organizations that help feed these children on Saturdays and Sundays, but ensuring they have food is harder over school holidays like Christmas vacation and summer break. Our freshman year of college, Lauren and I started organizing massive food drives; last summer, we raised enough to ensure that twelve hundred kids received three meals a day.
We stepped up to a group of students and I introduced us.
“Hi, I’m Kennedy and this is my friend Lauren, we’re representatives from FLA. We’re organizing our spring food drive to help feed children over summer vacation.” I extended a flyer and a bubbly, blonde girl accepted it.
“I heard that before the holidays you raised enough to give almost fourteen hundred kids enough food for break along will full Christmas dinners.”
“We did.” Lauren smiled. “It’s been our best drive to date.”
“That’s amazing. Can I just write you a check now, or should I send it to the FLA office?”
“We’d be happy to take a check now, thank you so much!” I smiled.
Taking money in lieu of actual food donations was what made our drives so successful. Plenty of people drop-off non-perishables on the official donation day, but most people at Harvard don’t have time to go to the grocery store. Most of them also have allowances that make two or three hundred dollars seem like pocket change. Marcy pulled a checkbook from her messenger bag and three of her friends followed her example.
“I like to go shopping and bring in the food myself.” A short, red headed woman told us. “When does drop-off start?”
“The events are scheduled for the Wednesday of dead week, but you can drop off stuff at the office anytime,” I told her.
Marcy and her friends passed us their checks and I tucked them into an envelope with the other checks we’d collected that afternoon without checking the dollar amounts.
“Thank you so much,” I told them.
“Of course.” Marcy smiled. “I can certainly live without the money and I hate to think about those poor children going hungry for months. Kids are supposed to love Christmas and summer, not dread them.”
“We completely agree. The drop-off event locations are listed on the flyer. Some kids from the schools we’re sponsoring will be there, if you can take a break from studying you should come out and meet them.”
They all quickly agreed to stop by and then we thanked them again and moved on. As Lauren and I turned a corner, I pulled their checks out of the envelope.
“Two for one hundred, one for two hundred, and one for two-fifty.” I announced.
“That’s amazing.” She sighed. “Do you think either of us will ever have enough money to write a two hundred dollar check as casually as we pay for a cup of coffee?”
“I don’t know,” I told her. “And I don’t think that it matters. We donate our time Lauren, that’s more valuable than anything.”
“I wonder how Becky and they guys are doing,” Lauren said.
“We’ll know soon,” I said, nodding ahead and to our right. Becky, Steve, and Lewis were approaching us with broad smiles.
“Looks like you’ve had a productive afternoon,” I said as they approached.
“I’ve got almost two grand in my bag.” Becky smiled, her brown eyes sparkling with pride. Becky’s a comparative literature major and fits most people’s idea of what my mother’s daughter should be like much better than I do. She’s introspective, independent, and does whatever she wants with whoever she likes. We’re as similar as we are different, and we’ve been friends since our first FLA meeting.
“We’ve got the same,” Lauren told them.
Lewis whistled. “We’re going to be able to take on another school.”
“Hey Kennedy, isn’t that your new student?” Steve asked in a teasing voice. I turned around, saw Jackson approaching, and quickly turned back to face my friends.
“God, I can’t stand him.” I groaned.
“That’s too bad, cause he’s heading this way,” Lewis said and I took a deep breath before moving next to Becky.
“Hi Kennedy,” Jackson said with a grin. “What’s going on?”
“We’re passing out flyers for the FLA food drive,” Lauren quickly answered. She shoved a flyer into his hand. “I’m Lauren, Kennedy’s roommate. This is Becky, Steve, and Lewis. They’re also with FLA.”
“Jackson Montgomery, it’s nice to meet you all,” he replied.
“This is really a great cause,” Lauren continued. “Are you aware that thousands of Boston children dread summer vacation because they don’t have the security of guaranteed meals? It’s despicable that, as a society, we let this happen. Our drop-off events are listed on the flyer, but we also accept monetary donations. We understand that most students don’t have time to shop.”
I smiled to myself as Lauren gave him her sales pitc
h. I loved that instead of giving him a chance to talk, she launched right in to asking him for money.
Jackson studied the flyer for a moment before responding. “I’ll be happy to go shopping and to write a check. But I think that I can do even better.”
“Really, how?” Lauren asked.
“For one, I’ll make sure that all of my frat brothers donate as well. I’m sure that I could also talk them in to helping out on the drop-off days, transporting all of the food has to be difficult. We could load and unload everything for you,” he offered.
“That would be amazing,” Lewis quickly accepted. “We worked until four in the morning after the holiday drive. Some extra hands would make everything a lot easier.”
“We’re having a get together at the house next week. Why don’t all of you come? You can tell the guys all about the work you’re doing. I can show them the flyer, but you’re the ones who are really passionate about it. They’ll donate more if they see your enthusiasm.”
“That sounds great, thank you,” Lauren told him. “When next week?”
“Wednesday night, eight o’clock,” he replied. “Feel free to invite the rest of the FLA.”
“We will. We’ll also need to coordinate a time to meet and go over all of the logistics for the donation events,” Lauren said.
“One step at a time.” Steve said with a smile. “Let’s go to the party and make sure that the rest of the guys are willing to help out. We’ll plan coordination meetings after that.”
“Oh all right,” Lauren said impatiently. “Thank you so much Jackson.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’ll see you all next Wednesday. Except you of course, Kennedy. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Not a minute early, not a minute late.”
“See you tomorrow, Jackson,” I said before turning away. My friends followed but stopped to scold me once Jackson was out of earshot.
“Kennedy, you were so rude!” Lauren insisted. “He just offered us a lot of help, and probably a lot of money! You could have at least smiled at him.”
“He invited me to that party yesterday and I shot him down. I don’t trust him. I’m afraid he’s full of shit and just trying to trap me into a date.”
“Oh, Kennedy, I’m sure you’re overreacting. And really, I don’t see why you didn’t immediately accept when Jackson asked you out. He’s so hot,” she said, fanning herself.
“He looks like he just stepped out of a magazine ad,” Becky agreed.
“Hell, I’m straight and I’ll admit that the man is good looking,” Lewis added.
“Yes, he’s gorgeous,” I replied, pissed that my friends weren’t coming to my immediate side. “But he’s also a self-important douche bag. He didn’t start by asking me to dinner or the party. He started by asked me on an extended summer vacation at his family’s new resort in Fiji.”
“That’s so unbelievably glamorous,” Becky sighed. “If a man that looks like that invited me to a tropical paradise, I’d pack my bags no questions asked.”
“But that’s just it!” I argued, wondering if my friend had lost her mind. “Questions should have been asked. You should know a person for longer than an hour before you ask them to run away to an island with you. Jackson has no idea who I am as a person. He doesn’t know if we’re compatible, or if we’d even enjoy each other’s company. The invitation was purely motivated by the fact that he’d like to sleep with me.”
“Look ladies, we’d love to stay and listen to you talk about the pros and cons of Jackson Montgomery the Third, but we’ve got a study session to get to in the Econ building. Can you take today’s checks back to the office?” Lewis asked.
“Sure,” I replied, glad for the interruptions. Clearly all my friends had gone mad. “I’ll stop by on my way to the library.”
“I thought you were off tonight.” Lauren frowned and I watched her mentally scan our calendars.
“I’m off from tutoring, but I have tons of my own studying to do.”
“I was kind of looking forward to having a relaxing night in the room,” she said, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “We’ve got three new episodes of How to Get Away with Murder on the DVR.”
“Fictional law school will have to wait,” I said, grinning. “Right now, I have to concentrate on getting in to actual law school.”
“Alright, I’ll see you later tonight then.” She sighed.
“Ladies, we’ll see you at Sunday’s meeting,” Steve said as he and Lewis turned to leave.
“Call me after your session with Jackson tomorrow,” Becky insisted. “I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”
I promised Becky I’d call and then the three of us parted ways. As I walked to the library, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jackson Montgomery III was about to bring unwelcomed complications into my already chaotic life.
CHAPTER 2
The next afternoon, Jackson and I arrived at the library at the exact same time.
“Not a minute early, not a minute late,” he said as he held the door open for me. “Are you having a good day?”
“I’m having a busy day,” I whispered as we walked to the cubicle. “Are you prepared for our session?”
He responded by pulling out a stack of papers. “I printed everything so it will be easier to go over together. Here are the outlines for the paper and the presentation, as requested.” He beamed with pride and I was tempted to pat his head like a schoolboy.
I took the pages from his hands and spent ten minutes silently reviewing them. “These are really good,” I said, surprised that the words crossed my lips. “I’m impressed and I’m not really sure that you need my help.”
“I can handle my current load,” he explained. “I think what I really need is help catching up on everything I missed during the first of semester. My finals are all comprehensive, so I have a lot of work to do if I have any hope of passing. Do you think that we could do study sessions, maybe three times a week?”
“I can do that,” I agreed. “I’ll need to look over your syllabuses to see what we need to review.”
“I have them right here,” he said, passing me more papers.
“If you could do four sessions a week instead of three, we could dedicate a session per class. I think that would be best.”
“I can do that,” he replied quickly, leaning forward in his seat. “I’ll do anything if it means that I get to spend more time with you.”
This again? I thought I’d made it clear that I’m not interested.
“Jackson.” His name was almost a growl. “I’m more than happy to help you catch up on your coursework, but you’ve got to stop trying to make things personal between us. I’m not interested, I don’t know how I can make myself anymore clear.”
“Answer one questions for me. Why aren’t you interested?”
I stared at him, not believing he’d put me on the spot like that. “I’m just not.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. “You had a preconceived notion of me before we met. That’s why you don’t want to spend time with me. You’re afraid that if you get to know me better, you’ll have to admit that you were wrong.”
I was silent for a moment.
He may have a point… a small one, but a point.
“That’s not it at all,” I insisted, refusing to surrender. “I don’t have time to date, it’s as simple as that.”
“But you and your friends are coming to the party, right? So you have time for friends and time for parties, but no time for anyone new?”
“I live with Lauren, and I see everyone else at FLA meetings. I’m coming to the party as an FLA rep, nothing more.”
“In other words, you’re warning me not to try to turn the party into a date.”
“You’ve got to stop talking about dating period,” I told him, pointing my pencil at him. “I’m sure that there are plenty of women who’d jump at the chance to go out with you. You should talk to one of them and stop wasting your time hitting on m
e.”
“But I don’t want a jumping woman,” he said, his beautiful eyes shining before they grew serious. “I want a strong, confident woman who knows who she is and what she wants. You certainly seem to fit that description. Plus, you’re beautiful.”
I gaped at him for a long moment, sure he was messing with me. “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked in disbelief.
“Are you kidding me? With those fierce green eyes and porcelain skin? You remind me of a delicate doll.”
Doll? I didn’t know whether to be charmed or pissed. I chose pissed. “The ones that are put in glass cabinets and creep people out?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
Jackson laughed and held up his hands. “Okay, that was a bad analogy. But I meant it, Kennedy. I think you’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you, I really do appreciate that,” I said and felt heat rise into my cheeks. “And I’m flattered, of course, but I meant what I said too. I don’t have time to even think about a relationship right now.” I sighed and checked my watch. “And here’s the perfect example of why things have to stay professional between us. We just spent the majority of our session talking about a nonexistent relationship and now we’re out of time. I have a planning hour tomorrow, I’ll work out a study schedule then. We’ll work on marketing at our next session. Before we meet, I’d like you to make flash cards of all of the terms from the first three chapters on the syllabus.”
“I can do that,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “You’ll call me tomorrow once you have the schedule worked out? Wednesday nights don’t work for me, but I can do any other time.”
“I’ll turn the schedule in to Sidra and she’ll email it to you. Student Services likes to keep everything official.”
That wasn’t completely true. I was sure Sidra wouldn’t mind sending the email, but most students and tutors work out their schedules between themselves. I lied because I wanted to put as much distance between myself and Jackson as possible.
