Learning Curve

Thursday, December 12th

Finn

English class is pretty full when I arrive for our midterm exam, and an excitement about winter break is in the air. I make a point not to sit beside Ace, who’s been pestering me for the last two days about going to play poker at his parents’ house tomorrow night, and find a seat on the left side of the room instead. I don’t need him yapping at me while I’m trying to look through my notes one last time.

I open my backpack and pull out my notebook, but I don’t even make it through one paragraph of notes before my phone goes off in my pocket.

Ace: Cute of you to think you can avoid me in such a technological age, Finnley. Listen, do you want to be in charge of snacks or drinks for poker night tomorrow?

The urge to ignore him is overwhelming, but I can see by the way he’s staring me down from across the room that if I fuck around, I’m going to find out. I sigh and type out a message.

Me: Can we discuss crudites AFTER the exam? Maybe? Just maybe?

Ace: So, you’re coming?? Do I have this as your promise?

Me: Yes, dude. Whatever. I’ll come to poker and bring juice boxes or whatever the fuck you want if you just let me concentrate on studying right now.

I wait five full seconds in anticipation, satisfaction taking over when my phone doesn’t buzz again. When I glance up at Ace one last time, he’s waving a blank piece of paper in the air like a white flag.

I laugh. The motherfucker is so ridiculous. Ever since he won the Double C Texas Hold’em event three weeks ago, all he’s wanted to do is play poker.

It’s annoying as fuck, but truthfully, I’m not against going to his parents’ place to hang out for the evening. His parents are a hell of a lot better than mine, and it’ll give me something to do with my time on winter break rather than going home.

I look back to my notebook to read through some more notes, but Professor Winslow claps at the front of the room to get our attention, starting class ten insignificant seconds later.

I guess I know what I know at this point, and the exam will be whatever it is. I sigh again and shut my notebook as Professor Winslow starts to talk.

“Today is the day,” he announces with a big-ass smile on his face. “Your English Lit midterm. I sure hope you studied because I didn’t hold back when I had Doug help me create the questions. You think they’ll pass?” He looks over at TA Doug, and Doug grins.

“I don’t know, Professor. It’s a mighty hard exam.”

My brother—who still doesn’t know he’s my brother—laughs and rests his hip on the corner of his desk. He eyes the room for a long moment and then crosses his arms over his chest. There’s still a huge part of me that resents him, but I’d be lying if I said it’s as big as when I started this year. Meeting his sister—hell, my sister—Winnie broke down a truth barrier inside me I didn’t even know existed.

They got the easy end of the deal, sure, but they didn’t get it as the result of a conscious choice. They were abandoned.

“You know, my wife and my daughter are huge fans of Christmas. I’m talking, they’ve got my ass on a ladder stringing up lights and baking enough cookies to get diabetes kind of fans. And I don’t know, I’m starting to wonder if all of their Christmas spirit has seeped into my pores or something…”

He pauses, and a grin stretches across his lips. “I’m feeling really generous today, and I’m thinking that, maybe, you guys don’t need to take a midterm…”

“Yes!” one dude yells from the back. “For the love of everything, please!”

Professor Winslow laughs. “Oh, so you guys are a fan of that plan?”

More voices in the lecture hall shout out their agreement.

“Okay,” he says and stands. He walks over to Doug’s small desk in the corner and grabs the stack of midterms off his desk. And then he strides over to his trash can and drops them in with a loud thud. “Happy holidays.”

The entire room erupts into cheers and applause and Professor Winslow lets it go on for a good minute, basking in everyone’s happiness, before he holds up his hand to quiet the room.

“Now, even though you don’t have a midterm, you do have a semester project to turn in to me today,” he updates. “This final part of your project’s point value will be double to replace your midterm grade, so I’m hoping you all put the team in teamwork and created a final thesis on The Winter’s Tale that will blow my figurative load.”

Girls squeal, guys high-five, and I shake my head. Yeah, he’s still a fucking douche.

“Get together with your group one final time, and I’ll come around the room to chat with you.”

Everyone starts the process of relocating to their group, and I gird my loins to do the same. All the work on The Winter’s Tale project for the last three weeks has been done by splitting it up or collaborating through email, and Scottie hasn’t once tried to change that. There haven’t been any in-person pleas or texts or calls, and I’ve tried not to let that get to me.

It has, of course, because for all the stupid shit I’m angry at her for, there’s at least one other part of me that loves her. But I’ve tried.

Scottie’s on the other side of the room, in keeping with her bid to avoid me entirely, staring down at her notebook in concentration as she jots something down. Shockingly, normally self-involved, makes-everyone-come-to-her Nadine is magnanimously on her way over to Scottie, so I grab my backpack to do the same.

I slump down into the empty seat beside her on one side, and Nadine takes the one on the other, but she doesn’t look up at either one of us.

Again, I’m not surprised.

“Tell me someone printed off our final thesis,” Nadine comments on a sigh, her beleaguered body melting into the seat like she just finished climbing Everest. “Dane had me up all night, if you know what I mean, and I didn’t have time to head to McKinley before I came to class.”

I’m not sure if Nadine thinks her mention of Dane makes Scottie jealous, but if it’s possible at this point, I think she cares about Nadine and Dane’s TMI even less than she cares about me. Her face, her body, her voice—they’re all unfazed.

“I did,” Scottie and I both say in unison. Scottie’s eyes just barely meet mine, but they’re quick to glance back down at her desk.

“Well, look at you two,” Nadine purrs. “You’re like the cutest little nerds. I love it.”

I roll my eyes and pull out our printed fifty-page thesis from my backpack, and Scottie does the same thing.

“Uh-oh, which one are we going to turn in?” Nadine questions sarcastically, her evil little giggle making my ears bleed. “What a dilemma.”

“Why don’t we write Scottie’s name on hers and my name on mine and turn our project in like that?” I offer, so annoyed with Nadine’s never-ending shit I can’t bite my tongue.

A stifled laugh falls from Scottie’s lips. I hate how much I enjoy it.

“Don’t be an asshole, Finn,” Nadine scoffs. “I was just teasing you guys.”

“Teasing. Right.” Fuck, this chick is a waste of oxygen. She barely even responded to our emails about this stupid thing, let alone did her fair share of the work.

“So, Scottie,” Nadine says, changing the conversation completely. “Any big plans for winter break?”

“No, not really,” Scottie answers.

“You’re not going home to spend time with your mom and dad?”

“I’m going home on Christmas Eve, but I’ll come back to campus on Christmas Day. My dad and sister are supposed to be working anyway.”

“What about your mom?” Nadine questions in surprise. “Surely she wants you to stay home for longer than a freaking night for Christmas.”

Scottie shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with Nadine’s prying, but Professor Winslow stops in front of us and cuts off the conversation entirely.

It’s the first time I’ve felt thankful to the guy. Because as much as I’d love to know more about Scottie’s family dynamic, I’m all too familiar with being the one who doesn’t want anyone to know.

“Are we ready to turn in our thesis?” Ty asks with a grin on his face. A Santa hat is now on his head, and he’s switched out his normal gray tie for a red one.

Both Scottie and I hold out our printouts at once, and he laughs. “It looks like I finally found a group that is prepared. Maybe even overprepared.” He looks over at Nadine. “Pray tell. Is there a third version of this group’s masterpiece?”

Nadine opens her mouth, but Scottie beats her to the punch, making a sense of pride swell in my chest. I love seeing her stand up for herself to someone who’s been nothing but shit to her. “Nadine said she didn’t have time to print it out because she was with her boyfriend all last night. Right, Nadine?”

Nadine rolls her eyes, but an angry blush reddens her cheeks and mars the skin above her overly exposed breasts. “I didn’t print it off because you and Finn said you had it covered.”

“No,” I chime in. “We never said that. You must have assumed since Scottie and I have done such a good job handling everything else. But it’s all good, partner. Scottie and I made sure our project is getting turned in on time.”

“Nadine.” Professor Winslow looks directly at her. “The point of a group project is to work as a group. To work as a team. Should I be concerned that you didn’t pull your weight here?”

“No. I swear, I did the work,” she protests, sweating now. “I had a hard time typing because of my cast, but I did my share of the work.”

Professor Winslow moves his attention to both Scottie and me, and for as much as I want to show Nadine’s ass, I don’t. I leave it up to Scottie.

“It was a group effort.”

Clearly, I wish Scottie would have narc-ed, but I understand why she doesn’t. She has to deal with Nadine at cheerleading on a daily basis for what will likely be her entire college career. The long-term consequences of selling her out in our freshman English class are extremely prohibitive.

Professor Winslow is skeptical, but he doesn’t push it, accepting Scottie’s paper while I tuck mine back into my backpack. “Okay, guys. Can’t wait to read it.”

“Thanks Professor Winslow,” Nadine gladly crows, despite not having a single clue what the hell the paper is even about.

“Any big plans for winter break?” Professor Winslow asks, his eyes, unfortunately, on me. “Getting out of the city to spend some time with family, Finn?”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Scottie actually looks at me. Direct and without ire. It’s rewarding and disconcerting at the same time.

Besides me and my deadbeat dad, she’s the only person who knows Ty Winslow is my brother, and I know without question she’s kept it that way.

I know she has to be curious, has to wonder what the hell I’m going to do about my big secret. But that makes two of us. I still don’t have a single fucking clue what I’m going to do.

“Yeah, something like that,” I mutter, at a loss for any other option.

Professor Winslow smiles at all three of us. “Have a good break, guys. You are officially free to go, and I’ll see you next year.” He winks at his joke, like every token old person on the entirety of campus has done for the whole last week after saying the same exact thing, and I start gathering my things. Scottie is faster, though, and she’s out of her seat and out of the lecture hall before I even have my backpack zipped.

She’s keeping her word and leaving me alone.

Which is good. It’s how things should have gone between us from the start.

I just wish it didn’t have to suck so fucking much.