Kissing Lessons (Kissing Creek)

by Stefanie London

  “You questioned my honor. It’s only fair.” His smile was warm and sexy, and for a second Audrey feared she might melt like ice cream on hot pavement.

  “Hit me.”

  “What animal has cube-shaped poop?”

  Audrey burst out laughing. “Seriously? That’s your question.”

  “Ah, it’s all about strategy.” Ronan held a finger in the air. “I had to find something that was general trivia so I wasn’t cheating by asking something too esoteric. However, I figured a classy woman like yourself might not be intimately familiar with the shape of animal excretions.”

  “That’s very tricksy.” Audrey bit down on her lip.

  “Tricksy like I’ve got one over you?” His eyes glittered mischievously, looking even bluer in the warm afternoon sunshine.

  “Nope.” She couldn’t help the big, smug smile from spreading across her face. “Cube-shaped poop comes from the wombat.”

  “Dammit!” He slapped a hand down on his leg.

  “You forget—I have four younger siblings, and I know exactly what facts will entertain them. Although I appreciate you calling me classy,” she added. “Even if you’re wrong about that, too.”

  “You’re classy. I see how much effort you put into dressing nice and presenting yourself well.”

  He noticed that? Audrey’s heart made a weird little thump in her chest. Of course she believed in presenting herself well—it was a defense strategy as much as a personal standard—but she had to admit that she’d made even more effort than usual since starting Ronan’s class.

  “We’re in here,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. They walked up to another of Harrison Beech’s older buildings, and he held the door for her like a total and utter gentleman.

  “So, what’s the whole point of this meet-and-greet thing?” Audrey asked.

  “I understand that the college feels the relationship between faculty and student body could be improved.” Ronan raked a hand through his brown hair, but it flopped stubbornly back into place, and Audrey swallowed a comment about how her current student-teacher relationship was more than fine. “So, they’re doing a series of events where professors bring students they feel can provide useful insight into improving the ‘student experience’ and help shape some kind of program that’s being put together.”

  “Why on earth did you bring me, then?” she asked. “I take a single night course each semester. For fun, I might add. I definitely don’t represent the average student.”

  “All students deserve to have a voice,” Ronan replied. “Why should it matter that you’re not full-time? Your experience is valid, and you have as much right to be here as anyone else.”

  That warmed Audrey’s heart. It was tiring to constantly feel like an anomaly. Like an asterisk. Like the odd one out.

  “But don’t you think they care more about the students who bring a lot of money into the college?” she asked.

  “They might, but I don’t.” Ronan flashed his faculty ID to the woman manning the desk outside the room where the meet and greet was being held. He bent forward to sign his name on a form, and Audrey tried really, really hard not to stare at how good his butt looked in a pair of blue Levi’s.

  Tried…and failed.

  Clearing her throat and wrenching her eyes away from Ronan, she peered into the room. She’d never been in this building before. It looked like a club room of some kind, with wood paneling on the walls, deep green sofas dotted around the room, and a wall of bookshelves at one end. It had an old-world-society feel to it, and it seemed out of character for the rest of the university.

  Ronan lead her into the room and handed her a “hello, my name is” sticker with her name written on it.

  “Professor Walsh!” An older man with dark hair approached with his hand outstretched. “Welcome. And which wonderful student did you bring with you today?”

  “Audrey, this is Professor Matsuda. He teaches Japanese language and history. Professor, meet Audrey Miller. She takes my Brain-Changing Positivity class.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Audrey extended her hand, and Professor Matsuda clasped it in a firm grip.

  “Tell me, what have you learned about the brain?” he asked. “If I was a student myself, I would definitely be taking this class.”

  “I’ve learned a lot about the tangible impacts of positive messaging on productivity and concentration,” Audrey replied. “And how we can actually teach our brain to filter information for the positive rather than the negative.”

  “Fascinating!” Professor Matsuda nodded. He was a well-dressed man, with neat slacks and loafers, and he smiled readily.

  Audrey released a breath. She hadn’t even realized that the tension in her body had been rising to the point that she was holding it—but if she allowed herself to think honestly for a moment, she was a little intimidated being here. Despite Ronan’s words about her having the same right as everyone else.

  She knew she wasn’t much value to the college. But Ronan made it feel like she belonged—like she had something worth saying.

  Professor Matsuda’s eye caught on something behind Audrey. “Ah, Kate. Excellent, you’re here.”

  Audrey turned and caught sight of a woman in a simple navy shirtdress and wedges with straps that wrapped ballerina-style around her ankles. She had dark hair and darker eyes and looked so effortlessly glamorous that Audrey suddenly felt like a cave troll having a bad hair day.

  “Professors.” Kate shook their hands in turn. “So nice to see you both.”

  “Audrey, meet Dr. Kate Kissinger. She completed her PhD last year, and now she’s working with Dr. Kirmayer,” Ronan said. “Audrey is taking my Brain-Changing Positivity class.”

  “Ah, you’re an undergrad.” Kate stuck her hand out with a friendly smile. “I’m glad we have a mix of students here today. Sometimes they only open these opportunities up to the post-grads, so I’m very glad we’re moving past that.”

  Audrey could tell the other woman had meant it as a compliment, but instead the words were like termites attacking her confidence. Gnawing away at the rose-colored lenses she’d been looking through a moment ago.

  Was it poor form not to correct Kate’s assumption?

  Oh no, I’m not even an undergrad. I can barely afford one class a semester as it is, and I don’t have my high school diploma.

  She couldn’t force herself to say it out loud. Guilty as she felt lying by omission, the mortification of admitting the truth would be worse. So much worse.

  “You finished your PhD last year? That’s impressive,” Audrey said. “How does it feel to be done?”

  “You know, I actually felt a little bereft at first.” Kate shot her a knowing look, and for a moment Audrey let herself pretend that she belonged. That she was one of those people who could share in-jokes about school and know what it was like to be working toward a monumental personal goal. “Study has been my whole world since I was a little girl. All I ever wanted was to get to the next level, and I actually fell into a bit of a slump after it was done.”

  “That’s very common,” Ronan chimed in. “Post-PhD blues are a real thing.”

  “Absolutely.” Professor Matsuda nodded empathically.

  “But then I had the opportunity to come back to Harrison Beech and help out with Dr. Kirmayer’s research, which honestly was a complete lifeline.”

  “How does it feel to be called doctor now?” Ronan asked.

  “Exciting, but also…I’m still me. Just with a few extra letters to my name.” Kate looked at Ronan in a way that made Audrey’s gut clench. It was so full of admiration and respect.

  “Kissinger from Kissing Creek,” Audrey said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in an attempt to divert her brain. “That’s…well, I bet that stands out.”

  Kate looked at her a little strangely. “I’m not from Kissing Creek, actual
ly.”

  Audrey knew that, of course, because Kissing Creek wasn’t immune to the foils of small-town living—namely that everyone knew everyone else’s business. As a college town, half the residents were transient because of their attachment to Harrison Beech. The other half were lifers who would, more often than not, be there from birth until death.

  That meant a lifer would always know if another person was like them. Or, in this case, not.

  “Tell us about the experiment you were running in the science building the other day,” Kate said. “I saw you setting up.”

  “I was testing the impact of positive messaging on resilience.” Ronan’s eyes lit up the way they always did when he talked about his work. “The students were coming in for ‘speed trials’ of a lateral-thinking activity. We put a call out for students who enjoy puzzles and problem-solving to come along and test their skills.”

  “So, they believed it was a lateral-thinking puzzle, but what was it actually?” Audrey asked.

  “Well, before the test commenced, we exposed them to a kind of message. The control group received purely informative material about the puzzle, thus a neutral message. Group A received a negative message, and Group B received a positive message. Then we timed them completing the puzzle.”

  Audrey frowned. “But what if one group is naturally better at solving problems than the other, regardless of messages?”

  Ronan smiled and placed a hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “The puzzle is broken, so they couldn’t solve it. We were testing how long they attempted the activity before giving up.”

  “Oh.” Audrey frowned. “Isn’t that a little…mean?”

  Kate laughed. “That’s research.”

  “Of course we have them all booked to attend a ‘results session’ on Monday, where I’ll explain what the exercise was about and debrief them. Don’t worry,” he said with a kind smile. “We’re not here to damage anyone’s self-confidence.”

  “Good.” Audrey nodded. “They might not be mice in a lab, but we should still treat them properly.”

  Kate looked at Audrey with a curious expression but then turned to Ronan. “How did you come up with the messaging?”

  “Positive messaging was easy. YouTube videos of kittens did the trick. But the negative was harder,” he said. “In the end, I went with a news story about a family whose house had been destroyed in a tornado. But we’re running another session on Monday, before the first group comes in to be debriefed, and I think we can do better. Maybe I should have asked my resident trivia expert.”

  Ronan looked at Audrey with a cheeky smile that went all the way up to his heavy-lashed eyes.

  “Audrey knows everything about everything,” he explained, and Audrey wished for a moment that she had something to hide behind. She hated being in the spotlight.

  But Professor Matsuda looked on with interest. “Really, a trivia expert!”

  “Not really,” Audrey said, shaking her head. “I’m—”

  “Help a professor out,” Ronan teased. “I need something more effective than a tornado story.”

  He wanted her input. Her brain scrambled. Negative messaging? She was the last person he should ask about that, because she did everything in her power to keep that stuff as far away from her as possible. She stayed off Twitter, didn’t read the comments on any article. Hell, it wasn’t like she had time for that stuff much, anyway.

  “What about zombie spiders?” she blurted out.

  The other three people looked at her for a moment, none of them saying a thing. God, she really was a weirdo. It was all the time she spent looking up silly facts to share with her siblings. Some days, it was the only thing she had time to read.

  “There’s a type of wasp in Costa Rica that attacks spiders and paralyzes them. Then it lays eggs inside the spider, and two weeks later, the spider wakes up, and larvae have taken over its brain. They force the spider to create a strange web so they can burst out and use the web to create their own special nest.”

  Kate blinked. “That’s…horrific.”

  “I love it!” Professor Matsuda clapped his hands together. “I have to tell Dr. Altman about this immediately.”

  Professor Matsuda turned and disappeared into the crowd. Kate followed after saying a polite goodbye, leaving Ronan and Audrey alone for a second.

  “Zombie spiders, huh?” Ronan nodded.

  “So it’s kind of like…well, fascinating. There’s a documentary on YouTube.” Audrey interlaced her fingers. “Sorry, it was all I could come up with on the spot.”

  “Only you would know that.” He chuckled. “Come on. We probably should meet some more people and talk about your college experience.”

  “You mean you don’t want to keep talking about zombie spiders?” Audrey laughed.

  “I’m worried if I do, I might not ever sleep again.”

  Two hours later, Audrey had done her best to dodge specific questions about her educational status while giving her honest feedback and trying to be as helpful as possible. Not an easy juggling act.

  But this latest professor was…a challenge.

  “Audrey Miller, hmm.” He tapped his finger against his chin. “Why does that name seem familiar?”

  “Well, I believe it’s the seventh most common surname in America,” Audrey said with a tense laugh. “And my first name isn’t exactly unusual, either.”

  “What’s your father’s name?” The professor rubbed a hand along his jaw, fingers catching on the liberal dusting of salt-and-pepper bristles.

  “Patrick. Again, pretty common.”

  She wasn’t sure if the professor did know her family or not. He wasn’t a long-time Kissing Creek resident, but he had been here for at least the last five or six years. So it was possible he’d encountered Patrick Miller. Maybe at a bar.

  But she sincerely hoped not.

  “I’m sure it will come to me,” he said, waving his hand. “And tell me again, what are you studying?”

  “I take Professor Walsh’s Brain-Changing Positivity class.” That was her line; she would usually then follow up with something fun she’d learned and steer the conversation away from herself and toward Ronan’s research. But this time, she was beaten to the punch.

  “Yes, but what field of study are you in?”

  “Oh, I take a bit of this and a bit of that. Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do.” Audrey felt her face grow hot. What was she even doing here?

  She could pretend this was her life all she wanted—but the reality was that Audrey didn’t belong here. That much was evident. Everyone else was all too proud to spit out their majors and their career plans and life goals like they were fairies shaking glitter dust around.

  The professor narrowed his eyes. He seemed to be catching on to the fact that she was dodging the question. Out of the corner of her eye, Audrey caught Ronan watching them. He was chatting with a PhD student, but she could feel his gaze flicking over to her every few seconds, like he was keeping a lookout for her.

  Audrey swallowed.

  For a moment, resentment welled deep in her stomach, thick and hot, like sticky, black tar. If only her siblings didn’t depend on her so much. If only her father could pull himself together and actually be the parent they all needed him to be. If only her mother hadn’t died giving birth. If only her father hadn’t pushed for one more baby, then maybe none of this would ever have happened.

  She immediately regretted the thought—because Deanna was precious to her. She loved her sister with all her heart, and she would do anything to protect her. Everything to protect her. Even give up her future. Even swallow her sadness down so many times that she worried one day she might stop feeling anything at all.

  “It’s important to figure that out,” the professor said. “I know many students are tempted to take this subject and then that subject. But your degre
e should be crafted in a way that you graduate with well-rounded knowledge in your chosen field.”

  “Yes, I completely agree.”

  At that moment, Ronan walked over, his blue eyes searching Audrey’s face as though he’d sensed the tension. He nodded at his colleague.

  “And which bachelor’s degree are you working toward, Audrey?” the professor asked.

  “Uhh…” Oh God, she really didn’t want to lie. “Well…”

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt your conversation,” Ronan said smoothly, “but I have Audrey’s cell phone in my office, and I need to get it to her before I head out tonight.”

  “Oh.” Audrey blinked, startled that he’d come to her aid.

  “You left it in class on Wednesday.” His voice was a little stiff, as though he hated lying as much as she did. But it was out there now, and she wasn’t going to call him out in front of another faculty member.

  “Uh yes, thank you.” She nodded and turned to head out of the room as quickly as her feet would carry her.

  For someone who thought her opinion mattered and her experience was valid, Ronan certainly had jumped in to stop her from admitting that she wasn’t working toward a degree.

  Maybe he sensed how uneasy you were.

  Or maybe he knew where the conversation would go—much the same as it had done when he’d driven her home after the baseball game. Why would anyone who’d dedicated their life to academia accept that she wasn’t doing everything in her power to further herself? It must baffle them. Perhaps he was simply saving her from feeling obligated to explain herself.

  Whatever the reason, Audrey would make it a point not to get stuck in a room full of professors ever again.

  …

  Ronan followed Audrey outside, and he had to quicken his pace to catch her. “Audrey, wait. Sorry, I…”

  What are you going to say now, huh?

  Why had he opened his big mouth? He’d seen the inquisitive look in Professor Martell’s eyes and the panic flaring in Audrey’s, and he’d butted in. Overstepped. He lied to a colleague for no good reason. Dammit. There had been some protective impulse that had burst to life inside him, and his brain didn’t have a fighting chance.