Winter Jacket: New Beginnings Read Online Free PDF Page A

let’s take a look at your essay and see where you went wrong.”
    The name in the top left-hand corner of her essay didn’t look familiar. It was early in the semester, but I was normally pretty good at learning students’ names right away. I didn’t recognize her face, and I couldn’t even pin-point which class of mine she was in. But here she was in my office, during office hours, with an essay with my handwriting on it. She had to be one of my students.
    “Since I didn’t do well on this first essay, do you assign any extra credit so I can make up the points?” she asked.
    I leaned back in my chair and adjusted my glasses on my nose. “Not usually. I do allow you to write multiple drafts though, so as long as you’re on top of that, you should do well.”
    The girl frowned, petulant and pouty. “I’m not a very good writer.”
    “Oh, don’t sell yourself short.” I silently berated myself . Why couldn’t I remember this girl? “There’s no magic to writing. It’s a skill just like everything else. Give it some practice, and you’ll be a much stronger writer by the end of the semester.”
    She sighed and toyed with the collar of her shirt, a button-up light yellow polo. The movement drew my eyes to her hand, which drew me to her breasts. I hastily looked away.
    “I might need a tutor or something.”
    “We do have a Writing Center on campus,” I supplied. “Let me just find the contact info for you.” I rifled through some papers on my desk. I had the contact information for the writing lab somewhere, but my desk seemed messier than usual.
    When I looked back at the student, I sw ore she’d unbuttoned something on her shirt. I could just make out the scalloped top of her bra. The light pink cotton material contrasted attractively with her alabaster skin. She leaned forward again, and I worried how sturdy her bra was constructed; she was threatening to spill over the cups already even without the extra tilt.
    “Actually, I was hoping that maybe you could tutor me, Professor.”
    I cleare d my throat and looked anywhere but in the direction of her exposed breasts. “I’m afraid I really don’t have the time. That’s what the Writing Lab is for.”
    “That’s too bad,” she said wistfully. “I was hoping we could help each other ou t. I know you have particular tastes.” The tip of a pink tongue peeked out from between two plump lips and slowly traveled the distance around the perimeter of her wide mouth.
    “T-tastes?” I stammered inelegantly.
    “Students,” the young woman supplied. “Female? Blonde?” A sardonic smile crossed her lips. “And lucky for me, I happen to be all three of those.”
    Oh shit.
    I needed to get out of there. I wasn’t normally claustrophobic, but even with my office door open, the walls felt like they were closing in on me, and I began to feel faint.
    I launched out of my o ffice chair, nearly stumbling over the student on my way out. I caught the edges of the doorframe before I threw myself completely into the hallway. Outside my office was a line-up of students, snaking down the corridor of the English department. All of them, attractive females, waited, holding typewritten essays in their manicured hands.
    “Oh God, no. ”
     
    I sat up in bed, my eyes flying open. My heart raced in my chest and I gripped the sheets tightly in clenched fists until the beating of my heart slowed to a more measured pace. My cell phone alarm chose that moment to go off, and I hastily reached over to the bedside table and silenced its morning call.
    Sy lvia, the cat I’d adopted last Spring, gave me an annoyed look. She was currently hogging my side of the bed. I was convinced she was, little by little, creeping up the mattress. In a week’s time she would have crawled up to my pillow. She stood up and humped her back in an exaggerated stretch before hopping off the bed and padding out of the bedroom.
    “Morning, baby,” came a husky voice, lower and thicker than