Standing in line, I made my way to the podium where the professor was distributing last week's statistics midterm exams. My heart was beating fast. I just hoped I passed. I held my breath as I got to the front, and the professor handed me my test. Clutching the pages tightly to my chest I made my way to the back of the lecture hall. Once I was away from the throngs of students, I took a deep breath and peeked at the sheet. My eyes welled up with tears when I saw red slashes and comments all over the page, and a big fat C- on top. I sat down in the last row for the lecture, but I could barely concentrate. How could I be so good at everything else, and so bad at statistics?
Like many people I got my bachelors degree before being turned out into the cold hard reality of supporting myself. I worked for four years eeking my way to the middle rung of the corporate ladder. The higher-ups loved me, and I expected to go far in the company. That's why I was shocked when I attended my last performance review.
"Sarah, you're great at this job, you can get things done like no one else," my boss started, and I knew there was a 'but.' Why is there always a 'but?' "But I'm afraid I can't promote you any higher without an MBA." So, back to college I went.
The MBA program was filled with professionals, so we had many of our classes in the evening. I'd taken the first few classes without difficulty, since my few years of working had helped me to understand business pretty well. My company was happy to pay my tuition and I could stay in the program so long as I maintained at least a 3.25 average, which honestly hadn't been terribly hard up until now.
Statistics was different though, there was something about mathematics that had always given me fits, and no matter how much I studied, the problems still looked like Chinese to me.
And that is how I came to be in a classroom, filled with over achieving professionals, sitting in the back of the room wondering how in the world I could ace the statistics final in seven weeks to keep my GPA high enough to stay in the program. The professor rambled on and on and all I could think of was if I failed the exam, I'd be out of the program, my tuition wouldn't be paid, and I'd be destined to a lifetime of working in a cubicle.
After class I started toward the door and the guy who sits in front of me came up to say hello. We'd said hello a few times and flirted briefly, but tonight I was in no mood for chitchat. Tonight I was worried about my future.
"Everything okay, Sarah?" Eli asked looking genuinely concerned.
"Yeah, sure. I guess I just need to study a little more." I tried to downplay how terribly I'd done since it seemed everyone in the class but me understood this stuff.
"Anything I can do to help?" His face always seemed to light up when we spoke. He truly seemed to be interested in my plight. I shrugged my shoulders - how could anyone help this? I thought. "Listen, want to grab some coffee?" he said. "I'm a good listener, whatever the problem is, let's see if we can work it out."
I agreed to coffee, it isn't like I have anyone at home waiting for me. I split up with my last boyfriend over six months ago, and since starting night classes I'd barely had the energy to get back on the dating horse. We sat in an all night diner near campus and talked for a long time.
It turned out that Eli was amazingly good at statistics, since he had taken several courses in it as an undergrad. We talked about personal things too. The conversation turned serious when he told me his long time girlfriend Marilyn had moved out a year ago. They had been high school sweethearts, and after 8 years of being together she had run off with Buddy McKay, their old high school quarterback.
"Listen, Sarah, I know you need help with statistics. How about I tutor you?" he suggested.
For the first time that night my eyes lit up. This could be the answer to my problems! "I don't know, Eli," I replied cautiously. "That's a lot to ask. I'm not even sure I could afford a tutor - how much do you charge?"
Eli thought for a minute, then said, "Okay, how about we just study together? Then it isn't tutoring, and you don't owe me anything."
I was so excited to have a solution to my dilemma that I quickly agreed. However, we both knew it was tutoring - he barely even needed to study for the exam.
We set up a schedule to meet Tuesday and Thursday evenings after work at each other's apartments for studying. We'd sit at the dining room table and work on assigned problems. Often, I'd be hard at work trying to decipher something, and I'd look up to ask Eli something only to catch him looking at me. He smiled often, and his eyes fairly sparkled when he was happy. He was only a couple years my senior, and so handsome that I couldn't believe he was still single after a year.
After four weeks of studying, we felt very comfortable together, and I was so excited to spend time with him that I actually started looking forward to statistics. He hadn't made any moves on me at all, which surprised me. Most men would have felt they had a right to be paid back for tutoring. I hadn't made a move on him because I couldn't even tell if he was interested, but also because studying was going so well, I didn't want it to end.
"Have you done problem thirty-two yet?" I asked, looking up from my paper.
He looked up, saw in my eyes that I needed help with it. "Yeah, that was a hard one." He stood up and walked around behind me, leaning over my shoulder to see what I'd already done. "You might want to recheck the fourth step there, I don't think the standard deviation is calculated right."
As he leaned over I turned slightly toward him, God he smelled so good. He always seemed to smell fresh out of the shower when we met, and the scent of soap has always been an aphrodisiac of mine.
When I didn't respond to him, he looked down to see my eyes closed and my mind drifting in a mini-fantasy of scrubbing Eli's back in the shower. "You ok, Sarah?" Jolted out of my thoughts, I looked up at him, and stammered, "Right, the umm...standard deviation. Ok, good point." I felt a blush creep up over my chest. Does he know I was thinking about him naked and soapy?
He chuckled and headed toward the kitchen to get us drinks. What I need is ice water in my lap, I thought, as I watched his jean-covered buns leave the room. Being so near to Eli without being able to kiss him or touch him was really starting to wear on me. In the kitchen around the corner I heard the phone ring and Eli answered it.
