Chapter 1 #2
Aubrey begins telling me about a date she went on last night and how she has no plans on seeing him again because, according to her, he chews too loudly.
I understand how it could be a bit of a turn-off, but based on everything else she’s told me about him, he sounds like a great fit for her—comes from a wealthy family, has plans for political office, and has maybe four percent body fat.
My dear friend has a type. Unfortunately, she’s looking for a unicorn—someone to fall madly in love with who will also allow her the freedom and flexibility that comes with a man’s small fortune.
He doesn’t exist, but I’d kill for an ounce of her confidence that she'll find him.
“Okay, class, my name is Dr. Forrester, and I’ll be your professor for International Politics this semester,” he proudly announces, and the room becomes quiet.
“If this is your degree concentration, it’s a prerequisite for most of the upper division international relations courses.
” He hands a stack of syllabi to each person in the front row to pass back.
“As you’ll note, I’ll be taking attendance daily.
Three tardies or absences will result in you failing my class. ”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Aubrey quietly grumbles, blowing out a long sigh.
“You’ll have two exams—the midterm and final. You’ll also have two major projects with corresponding papers. One is an individual assignment, the other will be a debate project.”
With Dr. Forrester moving to the other side of the room and out of earshot, Aubrey leans in to whisper, “Dibs on Isaac for a debate partner.”
It shouldn’t bother me—I hardly know him—but something possessive festering within me has me snapping, “No.”
“Do you have an issue with the assignment?” Dr. Forrester scolds.
I shake my head, cheeks hot from embarrassment. For a guy who seemed so nervous walking in, he’s actually a bit of a dick. Then again, I should’ve been paying attention in the first place.
“As I was saying, I will assign partners based on your first paper. The goal is to challenge you. You’ll need to choose a debate topic from a given list, then take the side you’d normally disagree with.
For example: are you for tariffs in hopes of strengthening manufacturing?
Then you’ll be researching how to argue against it.
Does that make sense?” He doesn’t wait for a reply.
“Great. The grading scale and other pertinent information is in the syllabus. If you have individual questions, you may see me during office hours or send me an email. For now, we’ll begin our conversation in chapter three of your textbook—relations with neighboring countries.
For the purposes of this discussion, I’ll start by dividing you into three groups: the United States, Canada, and Mexico.
Number yourself off into one, two, and three.
Ones move to the left, twos in the middle, and threes on the right. ”
We do as he asks and I end up part of Team Canada with Isaac. We join the others in the middle, and a girl toward the back takes the lead, asking, “Are any of you Canadian or have family from there?”
“My dad was born in British Columbia. He lives here, but has dual citizenship,” someone out of view replies.
“I’m Canadian,” Isaac offers, and all eyes fall on him.
“Were you actually born there?” our unappointed team leader accuses. My brows pinch; why does she care?
I quietly tell him, “You don’t have to answer that.”
“It’s fine.” He then raises his voice to reply, “Born and a citizen.”
I inwardly face-palm. Of course the first guy I’ve been attracted to in months isn’t even from here, and will likely return to whatever province he’s from once he’s done with his degree.
I sure know how to pick ‘em.
“Great,” she beams. “Whatever he throws at us, we’ll be ready.”
“The rest of us also know plenty about Canadian and US relations,” a guy off the side adds.
Isaac gently places his hand on the small of my back, and my entire body simultaneously combusts and melts into a damn puddle.
Trying my hardest to not be affected, I suggest, “Perhaps we should see what’s expected of us before we decide anything as a group?
For all we know we’ll be researching anything from trade deficits to supporting another country at war. ”
“Now that you’ve been divided,” Dr. Forrester shouts, “you must decide what the best course of action is to survive, if you have no established relationships with your neighboring countries. You have seven minutes.”
Isaac leans in and whispers beside my ear, “Should I fuck with them and give them made-up facts?”
I stifle a laugh, briefly drawing my lips into my mouth. “Shh, you’re going to get us into trouble.”
“Seven minutes? What is this? A basement makeout game?” someone in our group chuckles.
“Survival of the fittest,” someone else chimes in.
A guy beside Isaac asks the group, “Doesn’t this seem a little like, I don’t know, a high school-level discussion?”
Needing to get the conversation back on track, I offer, “What if we form alliances?”
Issac’s hand remains on the small of my back. “Keep going.”
I’m hardly able to think straight. Who is this guy?
I’ve known him for less than an hour, and an innocent touch has me acting like a damn schoolgirl with a crush.
I clear my throat before I continue, “We need to befriend someone in each of the groups. That’s the point of this class, right?
We need to have relationships with Mexico and the US.
My friend Aubrey is in the Mexico group, who has a friend in the US group? ”
“Or we tell them all to fuck off,” an asshole counters, high-fiving his friend.
“What are you? Twelve?” I snap back. I quickly rein in my emotions and offer, “Now I don’t know about you, but sitting around and doing nothing for the next six and a half minutes doesn’t work for me.
Who is up for alliances?” All but three raise their hands, and Isaac pulls his hand back to raise it.
A whimper catches in my throat at the sudden lack of contact.
“Let’s do it,” someone to my right announces.
Isaac quietly tells me, “It’s about time you found your voice.”
“What do you mean by ‘about time’?” My brows pinch.
He clears his throat. “Nothing.”
With a new mission, I ignore the gorgeous man in glasses with his strange comment, and find Aubrey to let her know about the plan—leaving out how I absolutely have a bit of a crush on Isaac.
After a little convincing, everyone’s on the same page, and we combine groups, even go so far as to begin faux trade negotiations if it’s asked of us.
When Dr. Forrester announces for us to return to our seats, he asks what was accomplished.
Isaac raises his hand. He calls on him, and Isaac replies with his thumb gesturing to me, “She had the brilliant idea to create alliances with the other two countries. Canada is going to have trade agreements with Mexico and the US.”
“It seems you understood the assignment, Miss…”
“Harris. Olivia Harris.”
“Thank you, Miss Harris. While this is a very basic exercise, the point of this class is to help you to understand the delicate relationships between countries. At the end of the day, we are all human with complex emotions. One slight in the political arena, and established partnerships can crumble. Allies are essential.”
He continues his lecture, discussing the importance of competent ambassadors in times of crisis, and when the ninety minutes are up, he dismisses us.
As I’m packing my bag, a piece of paper slides onto my desk.
Isaac
212-555-4669
I glance up, and he’s grinning wide enough for his dimples to pop. “I don’t call boys,” I chuckle, sinking my teeth into my lip to mask my smile.
“Good thing I’m not a boy.” Isaac winks, and I stupidly swoon at his flirting. “Can I walk you to your next class?”
“Thanks, but my next one isn’t until tonight.”
“Which one?”
“Ethics and Transparency,” I sigh, tucking the rest of my notes in my bag.
“I’m tempted to stop in since I’m waitlisted for it, but noticed it’s in one of the smaller classrooms. I probably won’t get in.”
“Honestly, I’d give you my spot if I didn’t need the class to finish my concentration requirements.
” I check my smart watch. “Shit, sorry, I have to get to work.” I stand, and pause before grabbing the paper with his number.
It isn’t as if I’ll actually call him, but it would be rude to not take it with me.
I fold it, and stuff it in my back pocket. “I’ll see you Thursday.”
Hoping I won’t miss the train, I hurry out of class, but only make it ten feet before someone shouts my name. Spinning in place, I collide with Isaac. He catches me by my tricep before I fall, handing me one of my notebooks that must’ve slipped out of my bag. “Sorry, you almost forgot this.”
“Oh. Thanks. Seems you're definitely my knight in shining armor today.”
“If I’m going to live up to the name, you should let me drive you to work,” he offers.
I keep my tone light, and dare I say, a little hopeful. “Maybe another time.”
“Another time,” he echoes as he adjusts his glasses. “I’ll see you Thursday, Olivia.” My name comes out as a purr, and the damn butterflies are now on overdrive.
He walks in the opposite direction, and I watch him for far too long. Since I have the luck of someone who opened an umbrella inside, when he glances back, he catches me staring while I’m still stuck where he left me. Cheeks hot, I quickly pivot and walk the other way.
It’s most definitely going to be a long semester.