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Lilly

“Good morning, everyone.” My journalism Professor greets with a bright smile on her face as she enters the room and makes her way toward her desk.

“Oh my,” Finley mutters beside me as his eyes trail up and down Professor Davenport. “She keeps getting hotter as the years go on.”

Twisting slightly in my seat, I blink at him. “She’s like forty.”

“And?” He says, twisting to face me too. “Who’s to say I’m not into MILF’s?” He smirks.

“She doesn’t even have kids.” I point out.

“Not yet,” he winks, pushing his hand through his auburn hair. “But once I pump my seed into her—”

“Gross.” I cut him off, placing my hand over his mouth.

He laughs, pushing my hand away. “I’m just saying,” he shrugs, glancing to the front again. “She’d look hot with my cum dripping down— ”

Smothering my hand across his mouth again, not wanting to hear about it, I say. “You do realize she’s married?”

“I could totally take her husband,” he grins, lifting his arm to show me his muscles. “Have you seen these?” He squeezes his other hand across his bicep as he flexes. “They don’t call me Finley the destroyer for nothing.”

“Nobody calls you that,” I snort, opening my laptop screen and typing my passcode in. “And it’s wife.”

“What?”

“You’d be taking her wife on, not husband.”

“She’s a lesbian?” His mouth gapes open as he looks between me and our Professor.

Giving him a deadpan look, I sigh. Does he seriously not listen in lectures? Just a few days ago she was talking about how excited she was because her and her “wife” are going to Florida for winter break to visit her brother.

“Okay, listen up!” Professor Davenport draws my attention away from Finley to her as she claps her hands together, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ll be starting our next assignment for the semester today.” She announces, and the room erupts into groans from my classmates, making her laugh.

“She better not assign me to write an article on the baseball team again,” Zoe, one of my classmates who sits behind me and is always bitching about our assignment’s mutters to Lorna, another one of my classmates, and her best friend. “I cannot deal with that much testosterone for an entire semester, again .”

“Didn’t you fuck both Jefferson and Riley, that’s why there was so much testosterone?” Lorna whispers, referring to the baseball captain and his best friend.

Ahh, that would explain why those two got into a huge fight last semester.

“Shh,” Zoe hisses under her breath, no doubt looking around the room to see if anyone heard her. “I told you not to speak of that again.”

I zone out their conversation as Professor Davenport starts speaking again. “You’ll be paired with a classmate, and you’ll be writing an article on a topic I’ll assign to you,” she says, walking to the center of the room with a stack of papers in hand. “The top two articles will each get a feature in the Riverside Gazette.”

This makes me perk up in my seat. Having an article you’ve written selected to feature in the Riverside Gazette—the college’s very own newsletter—is a dream come true.

I was around six years old when my love for writing begun. It started with journals, writing down every little detail about my day—from what I ate, to who I hated.

After school I’d go down to the local newspaper company in my hometown and pester them for hours, wanting to know everything there was to know about becoming a journalist. And I’m sure by the eighth time I walked through the door, they were tired of me constantly showing up.

When high school rolled around I joined the Journalism Juice Club, also known as the “JJC”—no idea why it was called that, but being part of that club made me realize what I’d been doing for years wasn’t a phase like others had once told me it was, but something I wanted to expand on .

Journalism was where my heart was. I loved the whole atmosphere that came along with it—the researching, the interviewing, the writing…hell, I even loved the formatting side of it that many others detested.

“Lilly Jackson,” my name coming from Professor Davenport’s lips has me sitting straighter as I anxiously pick at the skin on my nails. “You’ll be partnered up with,” she looks down at the paper in her hand and glances around the room, her eyes landing on the one person I didn’t want to work with. “Lakelyn Forest.”

I grumble under my breath as Finley snickers beside me. “Oof, tough.” He winces, giving me a sympathetic look.

I’m sure deep down—like really deep down—Lakelyn is a nice person…but she’s made it abundantly clear on several occasions that the only reason she’s in college is because her parents are forcing her to go, therefore, she chose the “easiest” degree. But in reality, her dream was to marry an athlete who’ll wait on her hand and foot.

I don’t know if it’s because we’re polar opposites, but I can’t seem to wrap my head around that. Doesn’t she want to do something for herself? Make herself proud of her own accomplishments? If she sat down for even a second and thought about it, she’d realize that she could do so much more for herself if she tried.

“Okay,” Professor Davenport flips the paper. “You’ll be doing an article on…” she pauses for what feels like hours, no doubt trying to build the anticipation. And I swear I hear someone near the back doing a drum roll against their desk with their fingers. “The hockey team.”

“Shit,” Finley chuckles as he leans closer to me. “You’re in for it now. ”

“Not funny.” I hiss under my breath, glaring at him.

“It’s better than writing an article on the sewage system,” his shoulders rise in a shrug. “Like where the hell did she come up with that? And why would anyone want to read about the sewage around campus?”

“I’d rather that than be partnered up with Lakelyn.” I admit.

I’m not too fussed about writing an article on the hockey team, that’s going to be the easy part. It’s being around her and the hockey team at the same time that’s going to be the struggle.

“You could always ask if you can switch partners?” He suggests.

“Finley James,” my fingers reach out to squeeze at his cheeks. “You’re a genius.”

***

After everyone exits the room, I make my way toward Professor Davenport who has her back facing me as she rifles through papers on her desk.

Clearing my throat to gain her attention, she stops what she’s doing, spins on her heels, and smiles at me as I stop before her. “Yes, Lilly?”

“Is there any chance I can switch partners?” I ask, chewing my lip. “Look, no offence or anything,” why do I always say this right before I’m about to say something offensive? “But dealing with Lakelyn on a regular basis is torture as it is, and now I’m stuck writing an article on the hockey team with her?” I take a breath. “Not to be dramatic or anything, but it’s like hell has opened up and sucked me in.”

Or pretty damn close to hell .

“Partners are final,” she says, leaning against her desk. “If I switched you, others would demand to be switched, and I can’t have that.”

“Even if I have someone who’d willingly switch with me?” I ask, hopefulness seeping out. “Finley James said he’d be more than happy to.”

Okay, that’s a total lie. And I’m sorry Finley for dropping you in this…but I’m sure he’d be more than happy to be partners with Lakelyn for a whole semester than learn about the sewage system around campus.

“Can’t do that unfortunately.” She pushes off the desk and begins placing files into her bag.

Sighing, I rake a hand through my knotted blonde hair frustratedly. I’m about to turn away and give up, but then an idea pops to mind. “I’ll work as your PA for the rest of the semester, free of charge,” I blurt out. “I’ll mop your floors, dust your blinds…please,” I beg. “I’ll do anything.”

She stops packing her bag and takes a deep breath as she turns to face me again. “Lilly, I wish I could help you,” from the sound of her voice, I know that’s a lie. “But I can’t,” she’s the Professor, she certainly can. “Unfortunately, you’ve got to suck it up and deal with it.”

“Suck it up and deal with it?” I try my hardest not to snort in her face. “So while she’s nonstop flirting with the team, I’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it?”

“I’m not saying that,” she shakes her head, a soft smile grazing her lips. Ugh, how can I be mad at her when she’s the kindest Professor I’ve ever had? “Tomorrow you’ll be sitting with your partners,” she says. “And I suggest enforcing her to stick to her part of the article, that way there shouldn’t be a problem working together.”

“Right…” I drawl out, clenching my jaw. “Well,” I take a breath, adjusting my tote bag on my shoulder. “Thanks.” For nothing, I guess.

She smiles. “See you tomorrow, Lilly.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” I nod before turning on my heel and walking out.

Grumbling incoherent things under my breath, I make my way toward the parking lot so I can drive home and scream into my pillow from frustration, annoyance, and everything else that comes along with it.

Writing an article on the hockey team is going to be interesting, I don’t know much about the sport—or any sport in general, so I’m excited to learn the ins and outs. But with having Lakelyn around, I could already tell it was going to be a long, drawn-out semester, which is something I wasn’t looking forward to.

But I suppose if I were an actual journalist and I was assigned a topic with someone I did not like, I’d have to do exactly what Professor Davenport said. So, I’ll “suck it up” and if she annoys me, I’ll just tell her to shut up.