Carly Sevens
A week had passed since the Battle of the Balls, and I was sad to say that Xavier and I had lost the final. I felt devastated for him. He’d wanted that title so bad, but at least the basketball team had made it to the final for the first time in years. There was still some kudos to be had from that. I had no idea that Jack had been there that night. I didn’t venture anywhere near the bar. If I had, I would have seen him and then we wouldn’t have even made it to the final. It was seeing him that completely messed with my concentration.
The look on his face was not one I’d forget for a while, a bit like everything else about him, and it was clear that he’d seen Xavier kiss me.
There was absolutely nothing in that kiss for me, which gave me some understanding as to why I’d never felt attracted to him. I could never fathom why I found his attempts to flirt and be sexy with me funny rather than a turn on.
We carried on partying into the night and he was attentive, but there had been this little shift between us. In the end, I asked him outright and he admitted with much disappointment that the kiss hadn’t been everything he was hoping for either. Even with his arm around me, he was honest enough to tell me that he’d lost the potential for a girlfriend but found a best friend. There was huge relief in hearing that. We were great study partners, we had a laugh and apparently made good pool partners, at least until I got distracted anyway.
Rebecca had called me in the week, too. Livvy was teething and with trying to keep the studio running at full pace, she was wearing herself out. As a result, she was behind on some of her administration and wondered if I could help with her load. My dad wasn’t keen. He wanted me to concentrate on my finals because my degree was my future. But so was the management job at the studio. I didn’t have to interview for it and it was going to give me so much experience for when I decided to invest in other businesses or diversify. That was what I really wanted to do, become an entrepreneur like my grandpa, Oli Hart. He’d used his business sense to spot opportunities and invest in potential start-ups. I needed to start getting some money behind me, but I also needed that wealth of knowledge that managing the studio was going to give me. I knew my dad and Oli would lend me the initial capital but I wanted to do as much of it on my own as possible, and that included decision-making. I wanted to make the decisions that would help me fly or fail. I didn’t want to be influenced by people because they’d loaned me money. Any return or success would be down to me, and the quicker I got some actual business acumen behind me, the better. In the end, it seemed I’d be juggling some real work, some course work and prepping for my finals. Right now, a boyfriend wasn’t something I could give my time to—well, not a serious relationship anyway.
Mom and Dad called to ask if I wanted to bring Xavier over to meet the family, and although it was still a white lie, it felt good to tell them that we were over. It started out as a bit of fun and neither of us were looking for it to get serious. But because I was a good friend, I’d still agreed to meet Xavier’s parents with him and that dinner date was looming closer.
I did my very best to avoid Jack around campus. We had no lessons together so that made things easier but I knew it wouldn’t last. I was never that lucky. The glare over the pool table and fake boyfriend/girlfriend thing at Dooley’s had been the last we’d seen of each other.
Until now.
He was standing across the auditorium from me with the rest of the faculty. He was so goddamn handsome; it was like I could still feel him stood behind me, even though there were tons of people between us.
I’d put my name down for the Business Mentoring Scheme at the beginning of the year. There were only thirty-five places and it was considered an honor to be included. You got to work one-on-one with a tutor who had the ability to offer you invaluable knowledge for both the finals and the real world. Being part of the scheme was something every student wanted on their resume. It showed you had an aptitude for additional learning and going that extra mile to help shape the college for the future. It showed that you were passionate about business and willing to give back and invest in the business education of future generations.
There was no interview. It was purely down to your college record to date, and the names of the successful students were posted on a notice board outside the dean’s office. Xavier had also put his name forward, so we’d arrange to check the list together. You could feel the excitement as we waited for a space in the crowd to open up so we could actually get to the board.
It was a simple list with names in alphabetical order, and both of ours were on it. When we realized, we high fived each other and wandered down the hallway feeling smug. The next step in the process was to attend the auditorium at 3pm, where we would be assigned a tutor and given time to meet with them and discuss the expectations.
I’d never seen so many professors and tutors in one place, and what an odd bunch they looked. Old and fussy vs young and trendy. It would make the most hilarious dance off in a music video. Something like that would become an instant YouTube hit.
Dean Kominsky was stood at the podium, reminding us what an honor it was and of course regaling us with stories of the successful students from the past who partook in the scheme and went on to make it big. He finished his speech by confirming that each of us would receive an additional letter of recommendation and support, personally signed by him, to support our future endeavors. All of this sounded like white noise, even though I was staring at Dean Kominsky so hard. I had to stare at him, because seventeen faculty members down the line stood Jack, with his hands in his pants pockets, oozing attitude. I knew he was seventeen people away because I’d counted down the line out of boredom, nearly had heart failure and then didn’t dare look back again.
“So, I wish you well, Class of 2017. Shape the world and become future leaders.” There was an attempted rumble of applause. Some were eager to get started, some were bored and the split was between both students and faculty. “You’ve already been assigned tutors who will call you out one by one. Go forth and succeed!”
Dean Kominsky rubbed his hands together like he was arranging weddings in a remote jungle village and expecting a dowry of cows and chickens in return. I sat next to Xavier and crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t get one of the bowtie brigade. As much as I’d have something to learn from them, I wanted someone who could give me fast paced and edgy advice. When Xav’s hand slammed down on my knee, I realized I’d been bouncing it up and down with nerves. Fifteen people had been called and still, I hadn’t heard my own. Tutor number sixteen, Professor Watkins, called for Xavier.
“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. “Why do I get the crusty old fucker who eats his own boogers as a primary food source?”
As he stood up, I snorted in laughter and had to quash it down quickly when the dean looked over in our direction to watch Xavier make his way to the auditorium floor. After all, Xavier Burrows was a big name. If he got this pairing right, the funding and sponsorship he could get from the Burrows family would break the bank.
“Miss Sevens.” The sound of my name coming from the tutor seventeenth in line was simply not acceptable.
“No,” I said out loud, standing in protest.
“No, Miss Sevens?” Dean Kominsky repeated, causing the tutors and students left in the big, echoey space to stop and see who was responsible for halting what should have been a mundane, speedy process. They wanted out of here as soon as possible and listening to the dean ramble on had been just as much a pain for them as for us.
“I mean…” I didn’t know what the hell I meant. I just knew I would do my best to avoid having to spend three sessions a week alone with Jack for the next few months.
“Take your seat. We’ll discuss this at the end,” he admonished and then looked to Jack for guidance, who shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Carry on with the remaining names.”
The rest of the partnerships were announced and they all left, until there was just the three of us left in the massive auditorium, which suddenly felt oppressive and tiny.
Jack had not looked at me since I’d made my outburst, but there was no way he was going to avoid it now and I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was less than impressed about my behavior.
“Please join us, Miss Sevens.” I grabbed my backpack from the floor and slung it on to my shoulders, taking in large, deep breaths and wondering what the hell I was actually going to say.
“Miss Sevens,” the dean commenced. “We pair our brightest students, those who can help the future of this establishment, with the tutors who have the most to give.”
If only this irritating old guy knew what Jack had already given me.
“Never have we had someone complain about their mentor. When we make the pairings, we’re careful to take in any future class gradings and assessments. Your records show that you have never been taught by Mr. Griggs, so I would like to know why you object. Before you do that, please know that we do not have an abundance of tutors available and I’d be more inclined to pair a new student with Mr. Griggs than hunt down a tutor you may deem acceptable.”
Shit, they were going to kick me off the program and I could tell by the way Jack was firing death shots at me, he would be less than impressed about having to explain. As I opened my mouth to talk, Jack beat me to it. “Miss. Sevens and I are from the same home town. I think she was expecting someone who could offer her more worldly experience than the businesses of little old Hawkstown.”
“Is that true?”
Jack sent a piercing a look across at me that I couldn’t ignore.
“Partly.” I swallowed nervously. I was someone who had been taught to fear authority and respect it. “I find I’m struggling with business probability and investment potential, and I wasn’t sure that was Mr. Griggs area of expertise.” I had no idea where that excuse came from, but it sounded plausible, even to me.
“Mr. Griggs is an excellent tutor who has been selected to give you an all-round education top up. If he feels you are lacking in any areas, they will form part of his report and we will make sure those resources are available. Likewise, if you feel Mr. Griggs lacks in any areas of your mentorship, you will have the chance to grade him at the end of the program. Satisfied?”
Unless I was prepared to leave the scheme, there was no way out of this, so I nodded.
“Excellent decision, Miss. Sevens. I’ll leave you to your first session.” Dean Kominsky went to the podium to gather up his speech notes and Jack moved off to the side to grab his messenger bag. As he bent down to pick it up, I could feel the tension bouncing off his frame. He was embarrassed and extremely unhappy with what I’d just instigated.
Dean Kominsky left first, and Jack followed hot on his heels. As the door was swinging shut behind him, I moved in the same direction, cursing another mess I’d gotten myself into. I had to have pissed someone off royally for this twist of fate.
Unless… unless that fucker had planned it all.