"Miss Matthews. Mr. Westinghouse. To what do I owe this unexpected yet welcome pleasure?"

Tawny and Dylan were in Professor McCurdy's office. 

They were standing before him while he sat at his desk. It looked as though he were enjoying salmon roll sushi for lunch, but he put his chopsticks down as soon as Dylan burst open his door and barged inside.

"We wanna talk to you," said Dylan. "About the English project."

Dylan was staring down McCurdy with a focused intensity that Tawny had never witnessed before. 

"Go on," said Professor McCurdy, clasping his hands together and giving his full attention.

"We want to do The Prince and the Pauper," said Dylan. "We know it's not English Literature, technically..."

"Quite literally, in fact," interjected McCurdy.

"Right," said Dylan. "But I think we can do something to elevate the material in a way you've never seen before."

"Is that right?" replied McCurdy, suppressing a mirthful grin. He turned his gaze to Tawny. "And what say you, Miss Matthews? Do you agree with your partner's sentiments?"

Tawny opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly became very flustered. Instead, she nodded her head vigorously, then looked down at her shoes. She could feel her cheeks grow hotter with every passing second...

"So what do you say, teach?" asked Dylan. "You want to make an exception for us?"

"'Teach'? What an august vocabulary you have, Mr. Westinghouse," said McCurdy, smiling.

"Uh...thank you," said Dylan, not entirely sure if that was a compliment.

Tawny stifled a laugh with her hand. Mccurdy glanced quickly at her and winked, which sent through another cycle of looking down at her feet.

"Okay, Mr. Matthews. You've convinced me! You're far too good a negotiator!"

"I am?" said Dylan. "I mean, of course I am. I mean...look who you're talking to. My father practically wrote the book on negotiation."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," said McCurdy. "Now, if it's all the same to you..." he gestured to his half-finish lunch.

"Oh. Right. Enjoy," Dylan said, quickly departing the room.

McCurdy waited until Dylan had exited the office before speaking again. "They're must be something devastatingly compelling residing between your toes, Miss Matthews..."

Tawny looked up, slightly appalled. "What?"

McCurdy pointed over the desk with his chopsticks, speaking between chews. "Your eyes haven't left my carpet since you've entered my office. Is there a stain there? I've been known to be a bit clumsy with my kombucha."

"Oh. No," said Tawny, looking up, instantly feeling stupid. "I just....thank you. For playing along with Dylan. Letting him do Mark Twain for the project.

"Ah...Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see," responded McCurdy. "Besides, it's the first time I've ever seen Mr. Westinghouse make an impassioned appeal to DO schoolwork instead of getting out of it. I was right to put you together."

"You think so?" said Tawny.

"Oh yes," said McCurdy, standing up. "You are bringing out the best in him. Although...I suspect you have that effect on everyone."

He guided Tawny to the  door of his office, opening it for her. "Till next time, Miss Matthews."

"Bye-bye" she said, turning around just as McCurdy closed the door shut. "Bye-bye?" she mouthed to herself, unwilling to believe she actually said that out loud.

"What was up with you in there?" said Dylan, annoyed. "I needed you for backup and it looked like you were struck dumb."

"Sorry," apologized Tawny. "But...at least you were able to convince him. You got what you wanted."

"Tch...yeah. No thanks to you," snapped Dylan.

Tawny winced at the unexpected barb.

Dylan ran his hand through his hair and regarded her cooly, his cerulean orbs transforming back into ice.

"Anyway. So we're doing Mark Rain. I've got a thing going on tonight, so I'm hoping I can trust on you to get the project started. Later."

Dylan turned and walked away.

"I-it's Mark Twain," corrected Tawny. But Dylan had already turned the corner and was out of sight.

In zero to sixty, Dylan had gone from civil to rich snob who couldn't be bothered to look her in the eye.

And not even a thank you for playing along.

This English project was going to SUCK.