night while I was out alone and I realized what an incompetent ‘tard I am.” “You okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little shoved around, but they won’t be bothering me again. Close cal , though, y’know? Kind of thing that makes you think.” “Well , you know nobody turns into an instant bad ass overnight, right? I mean that takes years to get really good. If ever.” “I hear you. Gotta start sometime, though. What’s the address and when’s a good time to go by?” He jotted down the details, said thanks, and hung up. Then he turned back to the course schedule. Life had gone crazy, and would with al likelihood continue to do so. Lorelei may be bound to protect him, but he had no interest in hiding behind her. Moreover, he had no interest in her coming home one day to find him carved up and
stuffed in the refrigerator because he fil ed the role of “helpless love-interest.” * “You want to add another class to your load,” the heavyset counselor said without much interest. Her jaw was propped up on her hand with her elbow on the desk, looking down at the form in front of her. “Yes, ma’am.” “You want to take First Aid/CPR.” Alex nodded patiently at her thril ing demonstration of reading comprehension skill s. Then he realized she couldn’t see him anymore than he could see her eyes. Al he saw was her mop of ragged, curly black hair. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And you’ve already got a full class load. More than a full class load,” she noted. He wasn’t even entirely sure she was awake. Her eyes didn’t seem open, and besides the way her head bounced up and down slightly as she spoke, what with her jaw being held up by her hand and al , she hardly moved. “I fil ed out the petition form there. I swung extra units last year, too, and I kept my GPA up with that. Dean’s list. And it doesn’t conflict with my current schedule,” Alex explained in a helpful, polite tone. “Are you switching to a major that requires this class?” “Um. Not real y, no.” Thus far, Alex had taken only widely required courses because his major was still undeclared. As a kid, Alex dreamt of becoming a cop, but long discussions with several veteran cops on the topic of constantly dealing with human misery had turned him from that. He had toyed with the idea of law school once, but then Keating
& Rose made him think twice about the lawyer’s life. Most recently, the idea of being a high school teacher had some appeal, but Lorelei and the affect her presence in his life had on him and women around him kil ed that idea entirely. He wanted to avoid underage girls at al costs for his own good as well as theirs. “This represents a serious increase in your class load.” “I can handle it,” Alex nodded. “First Aid isn’t even a full -semester course.” Without moving anything but her right hand and arm, the counselor reached for a stamp, pushed its ugly, red “Denied” imprint onto his form, then held out the form. She didn’t look up. Stunned at her complete disregard, Alex took the form back—he didn’t even know why he needed it now—and wandered out of her cubicle. Back in the counseling lobby, Alex wondered what to do. That whole “meeting” had seemed incredibly rude. He wasn’t even sure why she saw him. Was that old crank trying to keep up some sort of stats on how many students she met with? Was there some other counselor who might actual y, perhaps, counsel him? Alex decided it was worth a shot. He got back into the queue of students waiting at the front counter of the counseling office. Predictably enough, the line wasn’t moving very fast. Alex kept his eye on the staffers behind the counter. Eventual y, he spotted a young Asian woman working on a computer at a “closed” window behind the counter. She was cute, too. After checking the time on his cel phone, he decided to go for broke. Alex left the line and approached her. “Hey, sorry to bother you,” he began,
stuffed in the refrigerator because he fil ed the role of “helpless love-interest.” * “You want to add another class to your load,” the heavyset counselor said without much interest. Her jaw was propped up on her hand with her elbow on the desk, looking down at the form in front of her. “Yes, ma’am.” “You want to take First Aid/CPR.” Alex nodded patiently at her thril ing demonstration of reading comprehension skill s. Then he realized she couldn’t see him anymore than he could see her eyes. Al he saw was her mop of ragged, curly black hair. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And you’ve already got a full class load. More than a full class load,” she noted. He wasn’t even entirely sure she was awake. Her eyes didn’t seem open, and besides the way her head bounced up and down slightly as she spoke, what with her jaw being held up by her hand and al , she hardly moved. “I fil ed out the petition form there. I swung extra units last year, too, and I kept my GPA up with that. Dean’s list. And it doesn’t conflict with my current schedule,” Alex explained in a helpful, polite tone. “Are you switching to a major that requires this class?” “Um. Not real y, no.” Thus far, Alex had taken only widely required courses because his major was still undeclared. As a kid, Alex dreamt of becoming a cop, but long discussions with several veteran cops on the topic of constantly dealing with human misery had turned him from that. He had toyed with the idea of law school once, but then Keating
& Rose made him think twice about the lawyer’s life. Most recently, the idea of being a high school teacher had some appeal, but Lorelei and the affect her presence in his life had on him and women around him kil ed that idea entirely. He wanted to avoid underage girls at al costs for his own good as well as theirs. “This represents a serious increase in your class load.” “I can handle it,” Alex nodded. “First Aid isn’t even a full -semester course.” Without moving anything but her right hand and arm, the counselor reached for a stamp, pushed its ugly, red “Denied” imprint onto his form, then held out the form. She didn’t look up. Stunned at her complete disregard, Alex took the form back—he didn’t even know why he needed it now—and wandered out of her cubicle. Back in the counseling lobby, Alex wondered what to do. That whole “meeting” had seemed incredibly rude. He wasn’t even sure why she saw him. Was that old crank trying to keep up some sort of stats on how many students she met with? Was there some other counselor who might actual y, perhaps, counsel him? Alex decided it was worth a shot. He got back into the queue of students waiting at the front counter of the counseling office. Predictably enough, the line wasn’t moving very fast. Alex kept his eye on the staffers behind the counter. Eventual y, he spotted a young Asian woman working on a computer at a “closed” window behind the counter. She was cute, too. After checking the time on his cel phone, he decided to go for broke. Alex left the line and approached her. “Hey, sorry to bother you,” he began,
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