Chapter 37 Quinn
QUINN
AUGUST — LAST DAY TO WIN OVER THE FACULTY
I look over the crowd of professors with a knot of anxiety in my stomach.
A sea of faces stretches out in front of me.
Whether they’ll be friendly or not is yet to be seen.
I take strength from the knowledge that Colton’s behind me, all crossed arms and sexy scowls, like he’s my very own praetorian guard.
We spent the past four days working non-stop and the nights wrapped up in each other’s arms, with one exception. After forcing myself to leave Colton’s apartment for one night of space, I took a play out of Gerry and Colton’s book and called my dad. Our family needs a bit of honesty, too.
He answered the video call with a furrowed brow, which isn’t terribly surprising when I haven’t called him in ten years. “Is everything all right, Quinn?”
I took a steading breath. I owed this to Colton as much as I owed it to myself. “Hi, Dad. Have a minute?”
“What’s going on?”
“We need to talk. And before I say anything else, I need you to listen to what I have to say before you formulate your own arguments. Can you agree to do that?”
“Quinn, I don’t like the tone you’re taking.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you don’t, but you have two choices right now. You can listen and possibly rebuild a relationship with me, which I think you might want after this summer, or you can dig your heels in for the sake of your pride and lose me altogether.”
His jaw tightens. He doesn’t enjoy relinquishing power, but says, “I’m listening.”
“I’ve been letting you—letting everyone—operate under a false assumption.” I take another deep breath. “They offered me the Harrow Fellowship when I was a senior—”
“What?” His face is furious, and I lift a hand. The simple movement, or maybe the harsh look on my face, cuts him off.
“You agreed not to speak.” I wait for him to nod before continuing. “Like I said, they offered me the fellowship, and I turned it down. Those summers with you in Rome were everything to me, but when I went to school, I didn’t enjoy it. And I didn’t want to do it for the rest of my life.
“I watched Colton. He was so brilliant, and I knew I was going to beat him because of your name, not mine. I had new dreams, and I wasn’t going to steal his because I wasn’t brave enough to make my own choices.
It made me sick, but I didn’t have the guts to tell you that to your face.
I wasn’t broken by losing the fellowship like you believe.
There was no spiral or depression or whatever else you’ve concocted in your mind that you need to ‘save’ me from.
So if you’re waiting for me to get over a heartbreak that doesn’t exist, you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life.
“I love what I do. And I’m fucking good at it, Dad.
My students love me. The work I do with them changes their lives as much, if not more, than the work in the classroom.
If you still think that makes me unworthy of your time, that’s your decision, but at least I’ll know you’re making that decision with all the information. ”
His head drops forward, but I’m not done.
“One more thing. About Colton, if you do anything—and I mean anything—to negatively impact his career growth, you will never hear from me again. I don’t know if that’s enough of a threat to make a difference, but I’m making it, nonetheless.
You should be happy that I have someone in my life who loves me enough to support me, even at personal risk.
He’s my family, and I won’t let you hurt him without a fight. ”
His eyes are hard, and I know this is going to be the most difficult part for him. It’s a point of pride, and he’s already proven his pride is the thing he cherishes most. All I can do is hope that I matter more underneath all that posturing.
“Well, Dad, thanks for taking my call. I have some stuff I need to focus on, so… bye.”
I hang up before he can speak. Maybe I should have given him a chance to respond, but after everything he’s put me and Colton through, I don’t owe him a chance to argue his point. And I feel lighter than I have since I pulled out of the running for the Harrow Fellowship.
I use that new confidence in who I am to fuel me as I stand before a hundred professors who are set against me because of over a century of ingrained culture.
Colton slips something out of his pocket, dropping it into the purse I’ve set behind the podium. I laugh at the bag of M&M’s sticking out.
The corner of his mouth tilts up. “Just in case.”
“Your pessimism is showing. What happened to Optimistic Colton?”
He tries to hide his smile, but his dimple pops. “It comes in waves.”
President Munchen clears her throat at the front of the room, such a small, simple action that reverberates and brings everyone to silence.
“Thank you all for making time for this meeting right before a new school year. I’m happy to see so many faces beyond the senate today.
This conversation is worth our attention, even amidst the chaos.
As you all know, we’re voting today on the initiative to permanently separate the staff and the academics.
Quinn Riley, our associate director of internships, is here to discuss an interesting alternative.
I ask that you all listen to her proposal with an open mind.
This would be a substantial project, but one that may be exactly what we need. ”
Murmurs fill the room as she steps aside, and I’m officially on. I gift myself one last look at Colton for a spark of confidence and turn back to the group.
“As some of you know, I taught an internship course this summer in the Rome study abroad program. I know, it’s shocking. A staff member teaching a Billings course.”
I pause as select people around the room chuckle. Others scowl. Everyone’s a critic.
“The intent was to prove whether staff members can bring value to the academics before anything permanent is written into our bylaws.”
Colton jumps in. “The class was a resounding success. The Rome faculty have all written up their positive experiences from this summer. They’re included in the packet you received when you arrived.”
I smile at him. “But, after more consideration, I didn’t think this little experiment got to the root of the issue, so we’re presenting another idea.”
I pause, glancing around the room to catch the eyes of my allies, to draw strength from the knowledge that I’m not alone.
“Right now, the faculty and staff are on opposite sides of a cavern with a rickety bridge between us, technically able to cross over, but no one’s brave enough to do it. We want to fix the bridge, give us something sturdy so that we can reach each other.”
“We’re not here for a poetry competition, Miss Riley,” a professor calls from the front row, and I recognize the asshole philosophy professor from the first senate meeting.
Colton steps up next to me. “Enough. If you aren’t here to listen with an open mind, the door is just up the stairs.” He ushers me in front of him with a hand at the small of my back.
“Thank you, Dr. Miller,” I say.
His fingers twist in my dress, and I know he’s going to have me say it again later while I’m on my knees for him.
“As I was saying,” I continue, “none of us can figure out how to move forward. Rather than tying one hand behind our back, we propose another way forward. A new committee, chaired by one staff member and one faculty member, designed to help bridge the gap between the two vital parts of our campus. We’ve spent decades determined the others were helping students in the wrong way.
In truth, students learn and develop through different means.
We all have the best intentions, but assume the other has the worst.”
The same professor speaks up again. “And, I assume, you believe you’re the best person to lead this.”
I dig one fingernail into my palm to distract myself from the sarcastic reply fighting to leave my tongue and smile. “As someone who has experience on both sides, yes, I do. But, if you all choose someone else, I’ll happily step aside.”
He won’t be deterred. “And the best professor to chair it is a faculty member who has only spent a year at our institution?” He glares at Colton, and there are a few murmurs of assent around the room.
“You make a great point,” Colton says. “Quinn made the same argument. Great minds, I guess. Which is why I won’t be co-chairing the committee. We’ve identified someone more established and infinitely more qualified for that position. He has already agreed, assuming this new initiative passes.”
The group looks around the room, trying to suss out who it is.
I wave my hand. “Giancarlo, will you come up to answer the remaining questions with me?”
The quiet gasps crash through the room like a wave of noise as they rise simultaneously, and Dr. Guarino walks to the stage, only scowling slightly at me using his first name, even though he agreed it would send a message about our equal partnership.
When Colton suggested him as a partner, I did exactly what Colton said I’d do. I jumped off his lap, interrupting his explanation to bitch and moan about everything he’s put us through. But after I’d exhausted myself, Colton made his—unfortunately very valid—points.
I spent all summer trying to convince him that his plan was wrong and that he should throw it all out to switch to the staff’s side.
But his issues, the reason he spearheaded this initiative in the first place, are valid.
When I presented a logical solution to both of our problems, he was shockingly enthusiastic.
“What would this committee do?” calls one professor from the back.
Giancarlo looks at me and nods, signaling to every person in the room that he’s deferring to me.