Free Unethical by Jennifer Blackwood Page A

that decision. Her frosty glare sent a chill running through my core. Welcome back, Ice Queen.
    “Good morning, everyone. After that very stimulating conversation last week, I’ve decided to start our group project early. You may pick from the topics listed on the board and have up to four people in your group.”
    Behind him was a list of at least twenty topics to choose from.
    Before Dr. Centafont finished his instructions, students were picking out group members. Jules and Payton included.
    “This is too easy. Payton, Blake, and Andrew.” She bounced in her seat. Damn, this girl needed an intervention for her sugar intake. By the way Jules packed down junk food, she probably crapped out rock candy. She was on a crash course to Diabetes Land.
    Andrew draped his arm across Payton’s shoulders. “Sounds good to me.” Lucky for him, Jules sat between us, or else I’d remove his arm from its socket.
    Payton stared absently at her notebook sitting on the desk, her thumb ruffling the pages. “Yep.”
    Just peachy.
    I’d asked for this— Hell, it was for the best, but damn if it didn’t twist my insides seeing a frown on her face. The need to go over there and comfort her was encoded in my DNA, but that part of my job description didn’t exist anymore. It was Andrew’s job. That thought hurt worse than any ass kicking.
    Dr. Centafont said, “I see that everyone is chomping at the bit, so I’ll let you choose your topics and use this class time to do some research at the library. You’ll need to post information on the topic, along with the pros and cons, and respond to three classmates on the class forum.” He held up a paper, waving it around. “Also, your group will need to make a poster. Guidelines are in the syllabus. Class dismissed.”
    I scanned the list of topics on the screen.
    Early diagnosis of learning disabilities in children
    When to send someone to hospice
    Overprescribing pain medicines
    Assisted suicide
    FDA rules and regulations
    Before I had a chance to read through the entire list, Andrew said, “Let’s do assisted suicide. Nothing like researching that fucker in jail.”
    Holy hell.
    I glanced at Payton, the color draining from her face as she squeezed the shit out of the armrest. This crisis needed to be averted. I couldn’t sit around and let this douche annihilate her dad.
    “I’d rather do the childhood learning disability diagnosis,” I said with enough nonchalance that he wouldn’t think this topic choice was a big deal.
    “Of course you would, Mr. Future Pediatrician. Grow a pair. The assisted suicide one is an easy A.”
    Like father like son. Dr. Centafont must have fueled this sudden hatred Andrew had toward Payton’s dad. No clue why Dr. Centafont disliked him so much, but he sure made an attempt to shoot Dr. Cooper down any chance he got.
    “Maybe you should expand your horizons. Plus, you don’t know the whole story.”
    “And you do?”
    Jules looked nervously from me to Andrew, her ponytail whipping me in the face when she turned. “Guys, why don’t we make a compromise?”
    Payton stood and grabbed her backpack. “No. Let’s do assisted suicide.”
    “That’s my girl,” said Andrew. He patted her leg and brushed his fingers across her ass.
    My inner-Hulk rage threatened to ensue until Payton swatted away his hand and walked toward the aisle.
    Good. Stay away from him.

    An Arctic blast funneled through the quad as we made our way to the library. Brown leaves littered the ground, leaving the cement a slippery mess that guaranteed to keep the hospital busy. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to not look as cold as my frozen testicles. Sorry, buddies.
    The tall glass windows of the library came into view as we walked past the Memorial Union. My home away from home. People might as well address my mail to the fifth floor.
    The rotunda on any floor constituted as prime studying real estate. Students roamed around the room for an open table like my A Sig