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“Nadia?”

I look up and see Eric standing at the counter.

“Hey,” I say, fussing with a few objects on the counter as a way to look busy. “Forget your ID?”

“No. Not here for a workout.” I realize he’s alone, not with his usual posse of frat boys and dressed in street clothes. I notice he has something in his hand. “I wanted to bring you this.” He places my scarf on the counter. “It’s cold out there and Thanksgiving is coming… thought you may need it.”

“Thanks,” I pull the handmade scarf off the counter. “I appreciate it.”

A student lines up behind Eric and I gesture for him to move so I scan his ID. Eric steps aside, but doesn’t leave.

“If this is about the project,” I tell him once the student is gone, “I got your notes. Everything will be done on time.”

“It’s not about that,” he says, leaning over the counter. “I want to apologize. What you heard that day–it was gross and inappropriate. Although I wasn’t the one that said it, I didn’t stop it. I let Austin and Rocky say that awful stuff and I should have stepped in and defended you.”

My cheeks burn at the memory of what they said. How they talk about me like I’m nothing but a body for their purposes. The real humiliation comes in because I know there’s truth to it. I allowed that to happen.

Eric’s not finished. “I understand why you thought I was trying to get you alone. And to be honest, I did want to spend more time with you. You’re nice and yeah, hot, but in the context of everything it was a boneheaded move.”

“I may have been a little hypersensitive,” I admit, “and maybe took out some of my frustration on you and not the people who deserve it. They’re pretty intimidating.”

“Fuck, right?” he laughs darkly, shoving his hand in his hair. “I let myself get caught up in the whole thing. They’re basically celebrities, you know? I’m a huge sports fan and having a class with them has been unreal.” His jaw tics and he looks down. “I guess I just wanted their approval and I did it in a super shitty way.” His eyes flick up to meet mine. “If you want to justfinish the project and never speak again, I understand, but I just wanted to let you know that I really am sorry.”

“I accept,” I tell him. “And if you want, we can maybe get together after the break to run through the presentation?”

He grins. “That would be awesome.”

We agree to talk after Thanksgiving break and after he walks off I take a deep breath, a weight lifting off my shoulders. I’ve got too much fear and anger in my heart and it feels good to let a little of it go.

13

Nadia

I’m standingat the front door of the Manor, trying to figure out how to knock and also not drop the foil covered platter in my hands.

“I’ll get it!” A cheery voice calls from behind me. It’s followed by the sharp tap of heels on the wooden porch floor and a gust of perfume. I turn and see two girls, both blonde, that I’ve seen at games or at the Den. One carries a bottle of champagne. The other orange juice.

Puck Bunnies.

“Not sure what that is,” she raps on the door with her knuckles, “but it smells divine, and I wouldn’t want you to drop it.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I think I’d cry if I dropped them. They took forever.”

“I’m Bridget,” she says and nods to the other girl, “and that’s Heather.”

“I’m–”

“Nadia,” Heather says, smoothing down her skirt. “We know.”

I could ask how, if Brent’s blacklisting has reached them, but I’d rather not. Thankfully, the door opens and Reid stands in front of us in a wild paisley print shirt and loose jeans. He grins down at us. “Ladies, welcome to Friendsgiving!”

“Hey, Reid,” Heather says, “love your shirt.”

“Thanks,” he says, obviously proud. “It’s vintage.”

Heather pushes the OJ into his chest. “Jefferson here?”

“Out back,” he says as she and Bridget both step in. “They’re frying the turkey.”