In the Wake of Wanting Read Online Free Page B

ready for semester two?”
    “Ready.”
    “Ready to take on your newbie?”
    “Piece of cake,” I tell her arrogantly. “I wasn’t so bad, was I?” On The Wit every year, an upperclassman takes on an incoming freshman in the spring semester as their mentee. Although I’m only a sophomore, our advisor and professor has decided I’m advanced enough in my writing to be a junior copy editor this year.
    “No. After the first assignment, you were pretty much on autopilot. You made my job very easy.”
    “Well, maybe I’ll get someone who’s just as good.”
    “It’s a big incoming class this year,” she says. “A lot of good talent, but a lot of creative writers to wrangle in.”
    “ I’m a creative writer.”
    “I forget. You have too much investigative journalism experience under your belt. When are you ever going to let me read one of your novels, by the way?” she asks.
    “You write novels?” Stacy asks.
    “Yeah,” I nod to her, then turn back to Monica. “Maybe when I feel like one is really finished. Neither of them are quite there yet. I’m hoping to work on them over spring break, if I don’t have them done by then.”
    “What genre do you write?”
    “Crime,” I tell her, “but, like, interwoven with historical facts. So they’re historical fiction crime dramas, I guess.”
    “Are you good with history?”
    “I like history,” I tell Stacy. “But I do a lot of research about specific areas of it for the books. A ton of research, actually. I’ve been working on these two books for two years.”
    “Are they related?”
    “No,” I laugh to myself at the vast undertaking of both projects. “They’re centuries apart, but I get ideas and inspired by each at different times.”
    “I bet you have a lot going on in that cute little head of yours.” She reaches for my hair, but I step away, feeling the awkward rush of heat flow to my face. I glance at Monica.
    “Stacy, Trey has been in a committed relationship with his high school sweetheart for… what, four years now?”
    “Four years to the day, actually. She goes to Oxford.” I nod my head.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were still together. But her being in Oxford explains why you’re always alone.”
    “Yeah. And it’s okay.”
    “She trusts you to go to frat parties?” Stacy asks.
    Monica excuses herself to get us all refills while Stacy and I take a seat next to each other at a small table. “She knows it comes with the fraternity lifestyle. She wasn’t crazy about me joining Sig Rho last year, but she’s met a few of the guys. She really likes Stanley–my big brother here–and she’s okay with Asher. But yeah, she does trust me. I’ve never really done anything to make her question me. Honestly, I don’t really have it in me,” I tell her.
    “Are you just like your dad?”
    I consider her question and think about my dad, who–in most people’s eyes–can do no wrong. Any time I’ve ever felt animosity toward him, it was when I was being punished for something I deserved to be punished for. “I strive to be. He’s set the bar pretty high, though.”
    “But a little bad never hurt anyone.” I smile at her, thinking again about James Dean.
    I shake my head. “No, you’re probably right. I could probably stand to do a little bad. Who knows? Dad probably has some skeletons in his closet. He probably just paid enough money to have them buried very deep.”
    “Exactly,” she says, laughing.
    “So now it’s just a matter of picking the best bad thing to do.”
    Monica sits back down, setting our drinks in front of us. “What are we talking about?”
    Stacy picks up her cup. “To the best bad thing you can do,” she toasts, grinning at me mischievously.
    I smile back at her and hold up my cup. “To the best bad thing I can do.”
    “I’ll toast to that,” Monica says, and the three of us tap our plastic cups together in a strangely twisted little tribute that will hopefully bring a little