Chapter 25
twenty-five
PARKER
Banquet aside, Astrid and I didn't change. Our truce remained but became nothing more. The next time I saw her for our seminar, she acted as if nothing happened. The moment we'd stood in that ballroom, unable to stop staring, the world fell silent. She refused to acknowledge there was something there. While she could set it aside, I couldn't compartmentalise. I watched her lead the lab—giving her a chance to shine—remarking on how well-spoken and confident she was. I suddenly found the way she tucked her hair behind her ear adorable . What the hell was that about?
I tried to work up the courage to tell her how I felt after class. I attempted to say something as we finished but she left swiftly with nary a word. I gave up on what I assumed was chemistry. I'd misread another situation with another woman. I beat down my brooding feelings. I was hopeless Parker Westfall, the man who could not convert.
Then, Friday morning rolled around. At half-four, I left my house in a cab headed for the train station. I found my group of MUN students waiting for me to take them north in Dr Briggs' absence. I spotted a hanger-on at this unholy hour of a poorly paid workday.
“Briggs asked you to go, too?” Astrid asked .
If a heart could sink and grow one after the other, mine did. I saw this as a brilliant opportunity to show off my kind, vulnerable side. We could have downtime outside of work to just be . She’d come around. I trusted Ashleigh’s advice. I needed to come off as less asshole and more approachable.
“Yes,” I said, “and never mentioned it.”
“Well, we can get work done on the train.”
That was true. At least it was practical.
“I hope we're not roommates, Parker.”
“I don't think Briggs would do that. He'd probably get written the riot act over that. It'd count as sexual harassment.”
“Not unless you planned to do something?”
She jested, but damn if I didn't want to do something. Even if I’d fantasised about Astrid for the past week, nothing would happen, and we weren’t sharing a room. Though I’d never admit it, I paid to upgrade my room a week ago. I assumed she did the same but was surprised she hadn’t.
Focus, Parker .
We herded the flock of students on the train for the short train journey to London, where we chased down our connection and urged them to focus on walking. Astrid walked with breakneck speed, outclassing me. The woman could win a power-walking competition.
Then, we settled onto our direct train to Glasgow. Astrid pulled out her laptop and stared.
“Want to work?”
I didn't, but I should. “Of course.”
For five hours, we dug into statistical models to pass the time, ignoring the elephant in the room—passing the dataset back and forth and editing her surprisingly good methods section. I never imagined a first-year MSc student could write so well. Many of our second-year doctoral students would struggle to explain their methodology, but I didn't tell her that. I kept it simple, making edits and explaining what we could improve. She took my criticism constructively, handling the heat.
“I think we need to simplify our unit of analysis discussion,” I said .
I looked up to see her irresistibly biting her lip as she typed. What was that about?
“What?” She looked up.
“The methods section. The unit of analysis discussion drags.”
“Briggs—”
“He’s shit with any words,” I said.
“Okay, Mr English major,” Astrid laughed.
“That’s Your Grace to you,” I joked.
She smiled again in that way that melted me before. It fucked with my head.
After typing for a couple of minutes, she spun her computer around. “How’s this?”
As I read, a notification from her messenger popped up. I tried not to read it, but it was apparent, and there was for all to see.
Pity you had to be gone this weekend. I was hoping for a rain check.
I looked at the sender. Jeremy!
I tried not to show disappointment, but it ran across my face. I hated that I cared. So what if she was fucking that guy and wanted him so badly? It’s not like we were about to jump into bed. She felt nothing for me, right? I had no chance.
“What? Is it that bad?”
“It’s not great,” I lied. I didn’t even read it. I just wanted to get as far away as I could. “Maybe take a break from it? We’ll get back to it.”
A look of despair befell her.
I turned Astrid’s computer around, feeling some guilt about my reaction. It wasn’t her fault she attracted assholes whose sole purpose was to rack up notches on their bedposts. She owed me nothing. I proceeded in silence as no matter what I said to apologise, I’d only dig a deeper hole.
Arriving in Glasgow, we settled into the hotel. I was granted an expansive suite on the corner of the hallway near several of our students—convenient for chaperone purposes but plenty private. Satisfied, I went downstairs to read and grab some dinner. Unfortunately, there was Astrid yet again. No matter where I went, she was never far off.
Luckily, we weren't alone. She was with two female students—one of whom flagged me over.
“Parker! Come hang with us!” Elizabeth said.
I had no out, but we'd have distractions. I relented, depositing myself.
“Only if it’s okay. I was going to sit at the bar.”
“No, no, sit,” Elizabeth said.
“It makes no sense,” Carrie, the other added.
“We don't bite, contrary to popular belief,” Astrid said. “Unless you think we do?”
I didn't. I ordered a simple dinner and shared some wine with them. Carrie and Elizabeth departed to drink elsewhere, leaving me alone with Astrid. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“They like you,” Astrid said.
“Who?”
She chuckled. “The students. You’re tough, but they respect you.”
“The students are wonderful,” I said. “They are one of my favourite parts of being at Shalebrook. I am proud of them.”
She smiled. “Okay, that’s cute. You’re being adorable and can stop now. I’m still cross about what you said on the train.”
I groaned. “I know. I shouldn’t have said it. You’re inexperienced and green but also excellent. It needs work. I could have said that in a nicer, more constructive way.”
She folded her hands on the table, seeming satisfied. “Thank you for saying that.”
“It’s part of my new attempt to… be more open and less critical. I can come across that way, I gather?”
Astrid snicked. “Um… you think?”
“If you saw me from the outset—not knowing me—what would you think?”
“I thought you were a knob. Do you want more of a critique? ”
“Honesty is good.”
“You cannot handle the truth.”
“My oldest sister says I dress ‘academic chic’.”
Astrid giggled. I had an urge to kiss her once more.
Voice slightly squeaky, I played it off as a joke. “She once mortified me by getting drunk at a party and announcing something mortifying to everyone. I didn’t speak to her all summer over it.”
“That’s dreadful!”
“Well, she was going through a lot—grieving the loss of our father. I can laugh about it now.”
“Can I ask what it was?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “It’s stupid. She declared that I was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin, and would anyone kindly put me out of my misery?”
Astrid’s mouth dropped.
“God, no! I’m not, I’m not!” I insisted, surprised I had admitted this to her and annoyed she was angry about it.
I scrambled to think what to say as a flustered student appeared at the table.
Face ashen, he said, “Oh, thank God! You're here!”
“What is going on, Louis?” Astrid asked.
“Mark got into a fight with Paul! They're going wild in the bar in the lobby!”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Astrid said.
Every swear the woman uttered surprised me.
“We gotta go,” I slammed some money down to cover our meals.
Time to go save the day—like it or not!