Jeremy cleared his throat again. “Sarah, if you can go ahead? I’m going to lock the room behind me.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She cast one more glance over her shoulder before accepting defeat. She readjusted her backpack, gripping the strap where it lay over her shoulder, and scurried out the door. I stepped out behind her, with Jeremy bringing up the rear. I was cautious as I moved into the hallway. If she could’ve slung her bag to hit me, I think she would have, but she didn’t.

My stomach relaxed as I saw her hurry down the hallway to the main entryway.

“Sorry about that.” Jeremy closed the door and locked it. He stepped around me with a smile and extended his arm to lead the way. “Professor Gayle lets me use her office in between classes. We can go there.”

I followed as he went to the back hallway where professors had their offices. He paused in front of the last one.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked.

He opened the door, but looked back, surprised. “Why would you be?”

“Because I was late.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “No, not at all. I want to talk to you about what that other student asked about.”

I tilted my head. “The Honors thingy?”

He laughed a second time as he placed his bag on the cluttered desk and sat down in the chair. He motioned to the door. “If you don’t mind, do you want to close that?” As I did, he pointed to the empty chair across from him. “You can take a seat.”

Once I sat down, he leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “We tell students that the Honors Study Group is only for those in the top two percent, but that’s not entirely true. It’s for whomever we choose. But more than likely the top two percent are among them. The group consists of the best students in the nursing program. We get together every other Thursday evening to do…” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Just about anything. We study together, give each other pointers, help with papers and study guides, or just hang out. The last time we went bowling, and the time before that, one of the girls had us over to her house.” He paused, a secretive smile on his face. “That was an interesting night indeed.”

I felt like I was going to be inducted into a secret society of nerds—the kind who were entitled, self-righteous pricks who got off on how smart they were. If Claire were sitting where I was, she would be drooling at the exclusiveness. This guy was either going to invite me in or tell me how to apply. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with this, whatever it was, but a voice in my head kept me from outright saying no. It reminded me that sometimes it pays to put up, shut up, and see if there are benefits to being asked.

I kept quiet, hearing him out.

“Anyway.” He clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk. “Gayle wanted me to ask if you’d be interested in joining us.”

Gayle, as in Professor Gayle.

I frowned. He’d said the day before that she’d called in some favors because of my dad. Understanding flooded over me. This was because of my dad. “She’s doing my dad a favor?”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Uh…yeah, but it’s not all because of your dad. Before your, uh, before what happened last year, you were in the top five percent of your class. Professor Gayle feels you’d fit in perfectly with the group, and…” He leaned closer and dropped his voice, though no one else was in the office. “Between you and me, it’s worth it. Any extra time it might take, and even dealing with some of the egos, it’s all worth it. We really do help each other, and you’ll get to know the professors on more of a one-to-one basis. It’s good to have a professor know your name and care about what happens with your future. It’s really good.”

I chewed on the inside of my lip. My eyes wandered around the room and found a picture of a stunning woman: Long, beautiful golden hair. White teeth. Perfect smile. Sparking blue eyes. She was slender with a heart-shaped face. I nodded to the photograph. “Is that Professor Gayle?”

He followed my gaze. “Yeah. That’s her.”

“Is she married?”

“No.”

His answer was quick, quick enough that it seemed Mr. Fuller had a little crush himself. Professor Gayle looked to be in her thirties, and I got the same let-down feeling that filled me whenever someone used me to get to my dad. Maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but I was betting Professor Gayle wanted to date my dad, or she already was and was looking out for his kid. Either way, I knew my answer.

I stood up, gathering my bag. “I can’t.”

He stood with me, looking surprised. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, going for the door. “Thanks for the invite, but I just can’t right now.”

“Oh.”

I glanced back before opening the door. He stared at the desk, his mouth turned down.

My answer had stunned him. “Thank you again,” I said.

“Yeah.” His head bobbed up and down. “Uh, let me know if you ever change your mind.”

People didn’t turn chances like that down. That much was obvious. But I had to.

Women used to come to our house to see my father, and I was used to them fawning over me because they thought it would get them closer to him. My dad had a great job. We had money, and also an inheritance from my mother, which included money she’d received from her parents when they passed away five years ago. These more recent women could tell there was money somewhere, and my dad was handsome.