Chapter One #3
I should’ve listened to Madison and not been so direct. The drinking-game buzz has waned but it’s still acting like a truth serum. “How am I ever going to face you in school again?”
“You don’t have to worry. I won’t make this weird for you.” He turns to me, the streetlamp casting shadows along his jaw. He scratches the back of his neck. “We’ll never speak of this again, but for now—thank you for telling me. It can’t be easy, being honest like that. You made me feel special.”
My heart constricts. It almost hurts. He has no idea the effect he has on me. “Well, you are. Special, I mean. And trust me, it’s harder for me to not say anything.”
I catch his eyes and his smile deepens.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” I lean in. “You are the creator behind CourseView, right?”
In freshman year, some unknown genius designed a platform where students can get a clearer idea of what electives are worth taking.
It’s far superior to what the school provides, which is a list of classes with high-level (useless) descriptions.
CourseView tracks past grade trends, workload changes, and which teachers are the best (read: breeziest) by pulling insights from buried forum posts and Discord chats.
But no one knows who made it. The most obvious suspect is Sean, but he flat-out denies it every time.
“No,” he says now. “Why would you think that?”
“Oh, come on. ‘Schrodinger’s Elective: Simultaneously easy and hard until you take it’?” Whenever there’s not enough data to suggest whether an elective is worth taking, CourseView slaps that rating on it. “Who else would come up with something like that but you?”
“Anyone with the barest understanding of quantum superposition?”
My point exactly. “Also, I saw you downloading old syllabi for Nutrition and Wellness: Baking. There’s no way you’d take that course in a million years.”
“Since I’m so mysterious, I could be a wedding cake baker for all you know.”
I say nothing, waiting for him to crack under the silence. As my mom would say, lulls can be very effective in making people open up; don’t try to fill them all. The silence stretches out effectively.
“Okay, fine, it’s me.”
I turn to face him full on. “Of course it’s you!
But why would you keep it a secret? It’s the single most brilliant thing this school has ever seen.
Without you, I’d still be agonizing over whether to take Introduction to Fashion and Textiles or Principles of Fashion and Textiles. I got mostly As because of you.”
“Glad it helped,” he says. “Jake transferred late freshman year, and most of the decent electives were full. I threw something together to help him with the options left, then figured I might as well expand it and share it with the whole school. But features like Rate My Teachers could get me in trouble, so it’s easier to stay anonymous. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
Not that big of a deal?
A data-driven platform to refine the process?
Taking proactive steps to improve the quality of student life?
I can practically hear my dad selling the heck out of this at one of the pharmaceutical company-wide town halls he hosts on a regular basis, which inevitably end with some corporatey nonsense like “solving real-world problems with innovative ideas.”
Plus, Sean didn’t build it for credit or recognition. Mysterious, altruistic genius right there.
“Imagine creating something so impressive but not being able to claim it.” I sigh on his behalf. “I’d brag about it every chance I got. And after you graduate, you won’t be able to pass on your legacy.”
“I’ll put it on my college application.”
“We have to rename the platform to something legendary. How about . . . Foster Select? And then all the incoming freshmen would be like, wait, you’re the Foster behind Foster Select?”
He laughs.
“Seriously, it’s got a nice ring to it,” I continue. “The name alone gives off a premium, high-end feel, like a curated list of luxury hotels or something, but it’s literally an elective course database.”
“You’re hilarious. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Anyway, this is one of the many reasons I have a crush on you. That, and because you’re ridiculously good looking.
” My mouth moves faster than my brain. “And you’re a great tutor.
You always know what I’m going to ask before I do, like you’re steps ahead.
And you play varsity basketball, which should make you a hotshot, but you don’t act like it.
Not in that typical jock way. It’s like the millisecond I decided I liked you, everything you did after kept proving me right. ”
Sean doesn’t respond right away. “I don’t know what to say.” His gaze drops, just for a moment, and his voice is quieter now. “You’re making me sound a lot cooler than I actually am.”
My building comes into view much too soon, a sleek tower of glass and steel reflecting the glow of distant streetlights. Floor-to-ceiling windows flicker with muted lights. The entrance is still, and the only sign of life comes from the concierge desk, where Greg is scrolling through his phone.
“You live here?” Sean says.
“Yeah.” He’s staring at the building with a mixture of awe and intimidation on his face, so I attempt a joke to relax him. “You can still kiss me good night, though. The doorman won’t tell my parents.”
He laughs, flicking his gaze back to me. “Maybe next time, when you’re not drunk.”
I arch one eyebrow. “Is that a promise?”
He lowers his head to avoid answering, but I can still see his smile. That’s good enough for now. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“My pleasure.”
“Good night.”
“Good night, Flora. Hope you’re not too hungover in the morning.”
He looks cuter than ever standing there with his hands in his pockets, smiling, his eyes soft in the dark, his hair rumpled by the wind.
I love “good nights.” “Good mornings” are vibrant with energy while “good nights” are quiet and intimate. Hearing a “good night” from Sean makes tonight kind of worthwhile even if he did reject me.