Chapter 160 Extra Credit Ch1

• The first red mark on her paper wasn’t what pissed her off. It was the way he’d scrawled it — arrogant, decisive, that looping F slashed right through the half-assed paragraphs she’d knocked out at midnight after three vodka sodas.
• So she waited until campus lights flickered low, the last TAs slouched home with greasy pizza boxes and caffeine jitters. She waited until his office door was cracked, the line of warm lamplight spilling onto cold tile.
• Professor Weston Hale.