The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo Read Free Book Online

today, a chaste end—and he looked to her, startled. “Hi, are you— I’m—Marilyn Connolly?”
    His face opened, a further softening around the eyes. “Hi there,” he said.
    “I hoped you’d have a minute to talk.” She was suddenly aware of how she’d dressed: a snug sweater with a deep-cut V-neck, suede A-line skirt, and—the clincher—her brown calfskin go-go boots. But the man had his eyes fixed on her face; he had not once let them dip down toward her breasts. She couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or offended by this.
    “Would you rather sit out here?” she asked. “Or in your office?” Before he could reply, she continued: “One form of windowless ambience versus another, I suppose.”
    He smiled at her. “I’m wondering if you—” He paused. “Here’s fine.”
    They sat beside each other—she saw him, finally, notice the exposed curve of her knee. His eyes were dark, almost black. There was a gentleness in the way his neck sloped down to his spine. She was surprised to feel nervous prickles of electricity across her scalp.

    “Remind me of your name?” she said.
    “I don’t think I actually— David. David Sorenson.”
    “Dr. Sorenson?”
    “Not quite yet. David’s fine.”
    “David. Nice to meet you. I wanted to discuss my grade on the midterm paper.” She held it out like a summons. “I realize that the mere mention of sexuality apparently makes all of the men in this department melt into puddles of shame, but Sexual Behavior was on the list of recommended texts for this assignment, was it not?” Before he could answer, she plowed on. “I didn’t choose it provocatively, David. I’d like that to be clear. I chose it based on personal interest, which is what we were instructed to do. I’m an English major. I’m taking this class because I’m drawn to human dynamics. To psychological complexity. So you’ll understand that I found the commentary on my paper—and the resulting grade—to be incredibly problematic.”
    “I—ah, I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “And I wonder if a male student would have been put under the same scrutiny.”
    “I couldn’t say.”
    “I’m trying very hard in this class,” she said. “I’m a straight-A student.” Her biggest fear had been that she’d start crying during her speech. She was horrified to feel pressure behind her sinuses. She was, she knew, one of the smartest people in the class, and she felt like she was constantly working twice as hard to assure the people around her that this was even marginally true. A B in an elective class wouldn’t be the end of the world. But it might interfere with her acceptance to certain PhD programs, might cause a roadblock on the path she’d been working so hard to lay out. She swallowed. “One of the comments actually contained the phrase gratuitously indelicate. ”
    “That wasn’t me.”
    “In any case. I feel like I’m being held to different standards, Doctor. I didn’t deserve a B minus on this paper. It was well researched, even if you object to the nature of the texts referenced.”

    “I’m not a doctor,” he reminded her, and she leaned away from him, incredulous.
    “That’s all you have to say?”
    “This is—uncomfortable.”
    “You’re damn right it is. Lord. You want to teach at the college level? I assure you, not everything is always going to fall into some pristine categorical norm where—”
    “Not what I meant,” David said.
    “Oh, God, you’re— Oh, if this turns into some convoluted sexual thing, I really can’t—”
    “I think you might have me mistaken for—someone else.”
    “What?”
    “I—Marilyn, was it?—I’m not— I’m premed. An undergraduate. I came here to talk to my clinical psychiatry professor.”
    She felt suddenly cold, at once mortified and furious. “I beg your pardon?”
    “I’m so sorry. I’m—incredibly sorry. I just— You seemed so upset and I—”
    “You what ?”
    He shrugged. “I didn’t want to