“Yes, I am.” I forced myself to smile through the frustration churning in my stomach and threatening to eat me alive. “How was your day?”
Alex huffed. “You don’t want to know.”
“Of course I do.” I hoped I sounded more sincere than I felt. My mind was still half on my story, teasing at a rough plot point I’d either have to skip or unravel before I could make progress. I blinked, pushing it to the back of my mind. “Try me.”
He took a fortifying sip of wine. “Okay. Well, in my first period, I caught two students cheating and had to discipline them. Then Dean McAllister wanted a word. I like the guy, but sometimes he can be such a buffoon. He kept going on and on about this inane idea to match current English majors with potential recruits as pen pals. Pen pals? Do kids even have those anym
