He sighs, his eyes flickering to the long line of students, waiting to ask the same question, behind me.
“Name.”
“Sterling Ford,” I say. “Thanks. I have to maintain a certain GPA for my scholarship. I have to get a B.”
This goes a considerable way toward softening her attitude. I’m guessing someone stuck grading papers and tests for a professor is in the same boat I am. He’s got to earn his keep here, too.
“Well, bad news, Sterling. To get a B, you’ll need to score an A on both your final essay and your final exam,” he says with a grim, but sympathetic smile.
I do a quick calculation and realize the situation is worse than I expected. “So right now I have a…?”
“You would receive a C minus,” he takes a moment to gauge my reaction before continuing. “I’ve seen you in class. You’re bright, so you probably don’t need me to tell you this, but—”
“Taking zeroes has ruined my grade.”
“You only have A’s and zeros on our grade sheet. But look,” he punches in two numbers on his laptop, swivels it around towards me, and I can see how the weighting of our last two assignments might turn my C- into an A-.
“Thanks. Have a nice break.”
He nods and waves the next student forward, preparing to deliver the next bit of bad news.
Suddenly, I’m not so sure I should have taken Adair up on her offer to help me study. Between that and Francie arriving in a couple hours for her visit, I doubt I’ll get the time I need to do it properly. I spend the whole trip back to my dorm considering ways to tell Adair it’s probably not a good idea.
“Don’t you know it’s bad form to keep a lady waiting?” She’s leaning against the doorjamb of my room as I come off the elevator.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” I say, suddenly forgetting my plan to reject her help.
And it’s true. She’s wearing tight-fitting black leather pants and a lacy top that allows glimpses of a black bra. Her bun is set with lacquered black chopsticks, and her lips are full and glossy. A well-worn jean jacket completes the ensemble. She looks like one of her magnolias, just waiting for the world to come along and admire her.
“Not a bad apology. What took you so long?”
“I was considering our study arrangement and whether you’d be helpful or distracting.” I fumble with the keys for a moment as she gives me a slight frown.
“What did you decide?”
“You’re definitely going to be distracting. Leather pants? Really?”
She sweeps into the room as soon as I open the door, taking Cyrus’s chair by the window. “They are remarkably difficult to get off and on, actually.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Already forgotten about studying, have we? That won’t do.” Adair does her best impression of a schoolmarm, pursing her lips and tutting softly. “Which grade is most in need of rescue?”
“Econ.”
“Let me see your notes.”
I slide them out of my bag and open to where the final exam notes begin, then I hand it over.
“This looks more like Latin. Ceteris Paribus?”
“It’s a fancy way of saying that all variables not under consideration will remain constant.”
“When you say it like that, I wonder how you’re not getting an A.”
“Well, I actually went to that class, but I missed a few assignments when…” I don’t need to finish that statement. She knows exactly why my grade is tanking. “I can’t believe it only took two weeks to fuck everything up.”
Adair tilts her head. “What do you mean? You’re behind, but I bet everyone is their first semester.”
“Everyone doesn’t have to earn a 3.0 GPA to keep their scholarship. I’m at a steady B in my other classes, but Econ?” I sigh. “It’s a C minus. That’s just low enough to lose my scholarship. So maybe…”
“Are you telling me to leave?” she asks.
“I’m not sure I can risk it.” Not if I want to stick around Valmont, and the last week with Adair has proven to me that I do.
“Listen, I’m not going to let you lose your scholarship, but I think I can actually help.” She pauses, her lips twisting into a wicked smile. “And to make it worth your while, I’m not sleeping with you until finals are over and you’ve aced them all.”
“I, um, what?” I find myself looking everywhere but her face, which is unfortunate because my eyes land on her breasts.
“I’ve given this a lot of consideration,” she says, re-assuming the air of a teacher. She snaps her fingers and I tear my eyes away from her chest. “Please make yourself comfortable before we begin.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I sit cross-legged on my bed, leaving just enough room for Adair to join me.
Instead, she wheels a chair a few feet from my bed and flips through my notes until she reaches a section I photocopied from Cyrus. Obviously, they’re from a class I missed. “Let’s begin. Markets increase overall welfare via the concepts of consumer and producer blank.”
“Surplus.”
“Well done.” Adair kicks off her shoes and fires off another question, which I also get correct. She pulls off her socks.
My dick twitches in my pants at the sight of her bare skin, even if it is only her feet. “Do you have warm feet or something?”
She ignores my question in favor of another quiz. “With every purchase they make, a consumer experiences what measure of satisfaction?”
“Utility.”
“Very good.” Adair fixes me with an impish smile and takes a good 20 seconds slowly removing her jacket.
Now I can make out the entire outline of her bra beneath her top, and suddenly my jeans feel extra tight. “Are you—are we doing what I think?”
“What two functions limit the production of businesses?”
Shit. I can’t think. “Uh, cost, and…” I trail off sheepishly.
“Diminishing returns,” she says with another tut. She shifts in her chair as she puts the jacket back on.
“No.” The word escapes my mouth reflexively. If every class involved a striptease,
