My spine straightened with a newfound spirit. “I figured you were going to kick me out of class. I’m happy to go.”
He humphed. “You’re all dismissed. You can thank your classmate here,”—he pointed to me—“for the early day and for the new assignment I’m giving you all.”
Everyone started to groan. He held up his hand. “Now, hold on. You all got below a C on your last one. I’m giving you the option, because Ms. Whitfield thinks she can do better, to redo it. Your choice.”
As students filed out, some grumbled thanks a lot as they passed but I stood there, still staring at our professor. As he sat down at his desk, he didn’t look up but slumped over the papers almost like I’d defeated him.
Every class, he looked menacing walking back and forth in front of us all, like an old bull pacing back and forth, ready to headbutt anyone who challenged him.
Sitting behind the desk though, he looked tired.
I walked up, bewildered with myself for even approaching and said, “Professor?”
He sighed and looked up over the glasses that sat on the rim of his nose. His eyebrows were too bushy for his face and his mouth pursed before he responded. “Yes, Ms. Whitfield?”
“Why did you do that?”
He smiled a little more to himself than me. “You’re right. You’re my client. You pay to go to school, and you pay to be in my class. I get carried away because I want all of you to actually get something from the transaction. You pay me, and I give you the knowledge to survive in the investment world.”
I nodded. “I appreciate the chance to redo my assignment.”
He nodded back. “I’ve enjoyed some of your assignments and your strategy. Don’t let me down with this one.”
I walked out of the classroom questioning whether or not I should pinch myself. With my morning routine destroyed, and word vomit coming out to play, nothing should have panned out well for me.
I hovered over Jay's name because he would have been the first person I should have wanted to call. I thought about each of those Stonewood boys as I leaned against the hallway wall. They each evoked such a different emotion in me.
Jay was home, my anchor, my foundation. He lifted me up just as much as I did him. He'd celebrate the moment with me but he'd also worry about my panic.
Jett didn't know much about me, yet he knew everything about everyone. I'd never shared anything about my life with him other than my finances he controlled, and then every time I talked to him, there was no doubt in my mind that he was somehow omniscient. If I called him, he'd listen, but I'd never called him for something so trivial like my monumental life moments.
I scrolled to find “Winner” at the bottom of my contacts. Although he was at the bottom, he was at the top, ruling everything in my life even when I wanted him to be a mere afterthought.
I highlighted his name and hit the green call button.
It rang twice before he picked up. “Peaches, you told me we weren't meeting today.”
His voice sounded detached and far away.
“I know. And we aren’t.” I clarified.
He hummed like he wasn't paying much attention.
“Jax, what are you doing?”
“Working …”
“Working on your investments or songwriting?”
I heard rustling, typing, and a sigh. “I retired from music. I'm writing code for my app launch.”
The word retirement sounded so final on his lips, I wanted to ask why and pry from him the reason.
I ignored the need though. He wasn’t mine to figure out anymore.
“You don't hire someone for that?” I stopped walking to wait for traffic to pass before I crossed the street.
He chuckled. “I would if I could find anyone I trusted to do it better than me.”