Winter Jacket Read Free

the final version. I found that students were grateful for the one-on-one time and the personal feedback on their writing.  It was a small campus with an equally small student-to-faculty ratio that fostered that kind of personal attention; most students had chosen the school for exactly that reason.  This wasn’t a diploma factory like other schools where I’d worked previously.
    In our initial meeting, I’d found Hunter surprisingly easy to talk to.  She was polite and earnest; it was clear her parents had done a good job raising her.  Her genuine interest was paired with that intense, almost unnerving eye contact.  The intensity was muted when the span of a classroom separated us, but with only my desk between us, I had felt myself mentally squirming beneath her gaze.  I was equally looking forward to and dreading this second one-on-one meeting.
    "You interested in going to Peggy's tonight?" Troian asked.
    I smirked. "So you can set me up with the hot new bartender?"
    She smiled innocently.
    "I could be convinced to go out tonight," I nodded. "For a drink," I was quick to add, "not to hit on the new bartender."
    Her face lit up and she pulled out her phone. "Awesome. I'll let Nik know," she said as she began to text her girlfriend. "What time are you off today?"
    I glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of my computer screen.  "A couple hours," I noted. "I don’t have any more classes to teach today, but I've got student meetings about these papers," I said, tapping my fingers against the top of the stack.
    Troian leaned back in her chair and yawned exaggeratedly. "That sounds horribly boring. I don't know how you do it."
    "Well, we can't all be fancy screenwriters like you."
    Troian held up her hands. "Hey, don't look at me; I offered to put in a good word for you at my studio. You could be a hot, new writer for some TV show.  Nothing makes panties drop like saying you work for Hollywood."
    I rolled my eyes; Troian was a paradox.  She talked a big game and her word choice often made me blush, but she was the biggest monogamist I’d ever met.  She was that rare breed of dedicated girlfriend who felt guilty if she even had a sex dream about a woman other than Nikole.             
    “And I've told you before that I'd ra ther be a teacher than a writer," I said with conviction.
    She nodded sagely. "I can see why – the wacked-out hours, bottom of the barrel pay, and bad Departmental coffee."  She wrinkled her nose and pointed at my nearly empty coffee cup.  “I don’t know how you stomach that stuff, woman.”
    "I'm educating the future generation," I retorted. I crossed my arms across my chest as if daring her to defy me.
    "Ah, that's right. Young, impressionable minds just waiting for you to mold them." Troian's eyes took on a faraway look. "Ripe for the taking."
    I shook my head. "You make it sound so sordid."
    "Hey, I'm just proud of you for hanging out with undergrads all day and keeping it in your pants," she smirked.  "You should win a prize."
    "How do you always manage to paint me in such an unflattering way?” I complained.
    "What can I say?” she grinned. “I've got a knack."
    We both looked towards the open office door when someone knocked.  My chest seized slightly, worried that someone who shouldn’t have been overhearing had just been witness to Troian’s unorthodox compliments.
    One of my students , Mike Bobeli, a sophomore on the football team, stood in the doorway looking awkward. “I can come back,” he said, not making eye contact.  He shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “I just had a quick question.”
    I waved the student in, hoping my face hadn’t turned a telling shade of red. “No, no. You’re not interrupting anything, Mike ,” I said with an exaggerated grin.  “My friend was just leaving.”
    Troian’s eyebrows rose on her forehead.  “I was?”
    “Uh huh,” I confirmed, shooing her out. “I’ll meet up with you