11
Jaz
Farrah cornered me as soon as I stepped into the grad students’ lounge. “So?”
“So, what?” I took a seat on one of the old, comfy couches and put down my thermos of coffee. “So you want to hold the baby?”
“I do.” She reached for Gretchen as soon as I took off the sling. After taking a moment to coo over her, she turned back to me. “So what happened with Dr. Erwin?”
“Jesus, want to say that a little louder?” I cast my eyes around the room to make sure no one had overheard.
“No one knows what I’m asking about,” she said in a fierce whisper. “As far as they know, I’m wondering what kind of advice she gave you about your thesis.”
“All right, all right.” I rolled my eyes. “Dr. Erwin gave me some very interesting advice, actually.”
The murmur of noise around us made Farrah lean a little closer. “Uh-huh?”
“She said she didn’t have time right now to do a lot of serious thinking about my thesis.” I paused, letting that sink in. “But she said my thesis could be more… physical.”
Her eyes bugged out. “Say what?”
I nodded. “She took me over to her place so we could… talk about my thesis.”
“Jaz, you didn’t!”
“I did go over.” I measured my words carefully. “I was really looking forward to our talk, but no, we didn’t have a big discussion. Just a little one.”
“Okay, stop right there.” She grabbed her phone, and I peered over her shoulder. She was writing a text. To me.
>FARRAH: Are you saying you went to Dr. Erwin’s place and her boobs were too little to continue?!?!?!
I burst out laughing in the middle of the lounge. If we’d been discreet before—which was debatable—people were definitely looking at us now. I grabbed Farrah’s phone.
>ME: No! Jesus fucking Christ, not at all! How shallow do you think I am?
I wiped away the tears that were forming in my eyes and took a long sip of coffee, waiting for the room to go back to normal.
>FARRAH: So what were you saying??
>ME: That only a little actually happened.
Farrah tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Talking to you is like pulling teeth. Expand, Jaz, explain your answer! Why didn’t you… talk about your thesis?”
“Okay, okay.” I’d give it to her straight… to the extent that I even understood the situation. “First, I wasn’t completely into the conversation.
I kind of wanted a more serious discussion.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, Jaz…”
“And second, the whole thing got interrupted by a phone call.” Before she could ask, I gestured to the baby. “Gretchen’s mother finally called.”
The implications were clear. “Shit,” Farrah whispered.
I gave her an edited version of the rest—Amanda’s disinterest in Gretchen but her eventual acceptance of getting coffee with Faye.
“Do me a favor and bring Andrew and Sven up to date so I don’t have to say all this twice,” I told her. “Just don’t let it go any further. I’m sure Faye doesn’t want her business spread all over campus.”
“It’ll stay between us.”