Free In Ruins by Danielle Pearl

notice that he seems to dislike our professor nearly as much as he does me.
    Mondays aren’t especially known for partying or going out, but some people are just incapable of enjoying a relaxing night in, and I’m starting to discover that Devin is one of those people. She suffers from an obvious case of FOMO—fear of missing out—and seems irritated with me when I tell her I’m just going to study and go to bed early. I win her back over when I offer to do her makeup, and she and Julia head out to the bars looking like they’d fit in better at a Hollywood club.
    *  *  *
    The following morning begins like any other Tuesday, with equal parts anticipation and dread, and neither is particularly helpful. It’s hard enough to get over the love of your life when you’re not sentenced to spend an hour sitting across the room from him twice a week.
    Class starts out normally enough. I get there about five minutes early and take my usual seat. Julia sits beside me and complains about her hangover, though it doesn’t stop her from talking my ear off. Not a minute before class is scheduled to begin, Tucker strolls right past me without even a hint of a glance my way. It still stings, but it also gives me the opportunity to watch him, and I note that I’m not the only one. Most of the girls in the class sneak a peek at Tuck, and I can’t really blame them. But I suspect I am the only one to notice the subtle clench of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and I can’t help but wonder at it.
    Zayne asks the two students nearest his desk to pass out some memos to the class, and draws a blush from both of them. I have to suppress an eye roll. He’s good-looking, but he’s our freaking professor .
    Before I can even glance at the sheets of paper that have just been handed to me, Zayne starts speaking. “For your final project this semester, you will be creating a social marketing campaign for one of the organizations on the list I have provided.” Zayne holds up one of the sheets of paper.
    “Every semester I choose a different theme, and yours will be nonprofits. The campaign will not focus on selling anything or raising money, but rather on the organization’s core values.”
    Zayne goes on to reference points from his last lecture as well as our textbook, and I’m glad I’ve kept up. Basically he wants us to create a viral video that will positively and effectively represent the nonprofit’s values or messages.
    I swallow anxiously. Well, I wanted to be challenged.
    “For your final, you will create a presentation to showcase your campaign to the class,” Zayne continues. “You will be graded on the following: concept, writing, design, execution, editing, presentation, and last but not least, professionalism.”
    Some guy whose name I don’t remember raises his hand and Zayne gestures to him. “Uh, what do you mean by professionalism? Like, how professional it, like, is ?”
    A few people snicker, but I hold mine in. It’s not a stupid question, even if it was phrased less than articulately.
    Zayne just looks at the guy for a moment. “How professional, like, what is?”
    The poor kid turns redder than the blushing girls before him. “Like…the project?” His inflection is so unsure it comes out like a question; even more people laugh, and I can’t help cracking a smile.
    Fortunately Zayne takes pity on him. “Professionalism refers to the way you conduct yourselves during all of the stages of your project. After all, college is supposed to help prepare you for the workforce—for life—so you will be judged and graded very much the way an employee is reviewed in a professional setting.”
    I glance around the room, trying to figure out if I’m the only one who doesn’t know how one reviews your professionalism on a project that won’t be presented until the end of the semester.
    “The second sheet you’ve been handed is the list of your groups.”
    Groups?
    “I’ve divided you into six groups