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  Real

  BY: MAGAN VERNON

  Wolf

  From: WrenRider@FableUniversity.edu

  To: ProfessorWoods@FableUniversity.edu

  Subject: Political Science 101 Final paper questions

  Hi, Professor Woods,

  I’m Wren Rider, in your Political Science 101 virtual class and I have a few questions on our final paper.

  It says that we had to have our topics given to you by this Saturday, so I’m hoping I’m not too late.

  I’ve chosen the political aspects of Orwell’s 1984 since it would combine my knowledge as an English major with what we’ve learned through your course this year.

  I was also wondering if there was a grad assistant or an online study group I could converse with since there doesn’t seem to be much chatter in the classroom.

  Thank you for your time, I look forward to hearing from you.

  -Wren

  Professor Wood’s drunken snoring from his office chair was loud enough to rouse me from the latest barrage of emails.

  Out of all the professors to assist for and I had to get the guy with all online classes who drank and bull shitted politics until he passed out. That’s when I could actually get to his work.

  And now another student, probably some naïve freshman, touting her English major was trying to ask questions that were all clearly in the online syllabus?

  Honestly, I was done.

  From: ProfessorWoods@FableUniversity.edu

  To: WrenRider@FableUniversity.edu

  Subject: Re: Political Science 101 Final Paper

  Ms. Rider,

  Please see the class syllabus, clearly marked in the ‘Welcome’ file of the online classroom. It will give you all of the information regarding study groups as well as my TA’s information.

  Your topic is approved, but in the future, please use those English-major-reading eyes to go over the fine print.

  Brad Wolf.

  I backspaced.

  No reason she should think this was from anyone other than the professor and he wouldn’t notice anyway.

  Sincerely,

  Professor Woods

  Wren

  What the hell?

  This didn’t sound like the scratchy-voiced, meager gentleman from the videos he posted for class.

  Sighing, I opened up the syllabus that I had already looked at a million times. I knew there was a virtual study group, but it was connected to the class, where the professor could see everything. No one was going to say their real thoughts there.

  Like a shining beacon, I hadn’t noticed before, the TA’s name flashed at me from the document.

  Brad Wolf.

  My stomach curdled.

  This wasn’t the first time that asshole’s name had crossed my screen.

  Though the last time it was when he was breaking the heart of my roommate via the school’s messenger app.

  She thought the tall, dark, and handsome stunner was into her when he brought her up to his room at a house party.

  But then the Wolf came out when she messaged him the next day and he said he didn’t do relationships.

  The last person I wanted to message for help was him, so I’d figure this paper out on my own. Hopefully.

  From: WrenRider@FableUniversity.com

  To: BradWolf@FableUniversity.com

  Subject: Final paper, Political Science 101, questions.

  Hello, Mr. Wolf,

  This is Wren Rider from Professor Wood’s Political Science 101 virtual class. He informed me to e-mail you if I had any additional questions on my paper.

  I was approved to write about the political implications of George Orwell’s 1984, and I’ve been able to get started but stuck on a few items that the syllabus says I need to address in the final paper.

  I want to make sure that I’m correctly attributing modern political theory to the English socialist theory of the original book.

  I’ve attached a few paragraphs below, if you could please let me know if I’m on the right path or if there any further sources you’d recommend.

  Thank you,

  Wren Rider

  Wolf

  I read over the email once, then twice.

  Didn’t this girl get the hint from what I sent from Professor Woods?

  Who the hell was this Wren Rider anyway?

  Snatching my phone from the desk, I pulled up the school’s directory and typed in her name.

  Staring back at me was a pair of big hazel eyes, long red hair, and pouty lips forming the most perfect smirk that I could almost picture wrapped around my cock.

  Oh, hell yeah, I knew this girl.

  She’d been at a few parties at my house, always with a clingy blonde freshman, Katie maybe? Or Karen?

  She begged to get me off at a party, practically on her knees while I was at the beer pong table. I told her she had too much to drink and I’d let her sleep it off in my room.

  Sleep.

  She thought I was a gentleman or something and that meant we could grab coffee the next day.

  I didn’t do clingy drunk girls.

  But her roommate, Wren, the one now looking back at me from the screen, she was something else.

  I’d seen her around campus, riding a little bicycle with a basket like some hipster fairytale princess.

  Now she was asking me for help.

  What the hell did I even tell her?

  Raking my fingers through my hair it took me about two seconds for a light bulb to ding.

  On my account, I didn’t need to be the professor. I didn’t need to be anything other than me.

  And yeah the girl was a smoke show, but not like I could sleep with a student in the class anyway (something that was clearly written in the syllabus on being a TA), so I had nothing to lose by telling her like it was.

  From: BradWolf@FableUniversity.com

  To: WrenRider@FableUniversity.com

  Subject: RE: Final paper, Political Science 101, questions.

  Wren,

  While the subject sounds interesting enough, I also just googled Political Science 101 papers ideas and yours was the first to come up.

  Not exactly original.

  As for what you’ve written?

  Yeah, you have the facts there but it also bores me to tears and I’m a freaking political science major. I’ve paged for representatives who have filibustered for hours on end.

  Congressmen Black’s day long tirade on the fruit tax was more riveting than your opening statement.

  So I implore you, since I’ll have to read your paper as well as thirty others in the class, to do something that stands out a little more and not just something you picked off a website since it sounds good for an English major.

  -Brad Wolf

  Wren

  Brad Wolf was not a wolf.

  He was a straight up asshole.

  The professor’s email may have been harsh, but at least he was professional.

  This?

  This was the exact guy I saw at the party with a stupid dimpled smirk and dark hair that looked like it desperately needed a cut, but also like he’d ran his hand through it too many times.

  Sexy.

  I shook my head like somehow that would mentally get rid of the vision of him pushing his hair out of his eyes and the way his biceps flexed as he did it.

  Just because he was good looking didn’t mean he could treat me like I didn’t know what I was doing.

  I bit my lip as a sinking feeling caved in my chest.

  Okay, so maybe I did look up the paper topic on Google, but it was a good idea to blend my major and political science.

  Sucking in a breath, I let it out slowly, trying to shake away squirm that was crawling through me.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check in with my classmates to see what they were writing about.

  Clicking out of my email, I opened the virtual classroom and the chat room.

  Okay, now or never.

  I opened up a new subject line, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I mulled over what to write.

  Wolf would see this.

  So would my professor.

  My gut wanted down how much assholes both of them were, but luckily my brain was quicker.

  Subject: Final Paper

  Hey everyone,

  I had my final paper topic approved, but now going to change it, after some, semi-helpful notes.

  How are you going forward with this?

  I swore it wasn’t even a second later when a message pinged and I almost bolted out of my chair.

  Brad Wolf responded to your comment.

  It took everything I had not to roll my eyes as my heart hammered against my chest.

  What the hell was this guy going to say now?

  Brad Wolf: Whoever gave you the semi-helpful notes was probably a smart person.

  Asshole.

  My fingers flew to the keyboard before the smarter part of my brain could catch up.

  Wren Rider: Semi. Nothing to brag about. But my topic wasn’t one I felt super passionate about, so I’m wondering what everyone else is focusing on.

  His response came back just as quick as mine.

  Brad Wolf: Why not focus on your own thing? What are YOU passionate about? What makes you want to sit down at the keyboard and write this paper, English major?

  I blinked hard as heat flooded my cheeks.

  Was I blushing? He couldn’t see me, no one could. Hell, no one probably even looked at these message boards.

  This was personal for him.

  Now it was my turn to take the big bad wolf down a few notches.

  Wren Rider: What am I passionate about? How about that I’m tired of every gate keeper being some self-assured male who only passes along the things he wants to see. How every female reporter on the news has to be made up, but if they have even a hair out of place or an extra coat of lipstick their going to be scrutinized? Yet a male reporter could wear the exact same suit every day and have bed head and no one is going to say a thing about how he looks? What semi-helpful advice do you have for that, Wolf?

  I blinked hard, not believing I actually hit send on that.

  My shoulders tensed.

  Shit.

  What if Woods saw this?

  What if my grade was affected for it?

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Before I could even look up a way to delete a post, the response was back from Wolf.

  Brad Wolf: Perfect. Write your heart out, Wren Rider.

  Wolf

  From: WrenRider@FableUniversity.edu

  To: ProfessorWoods@FableUniversity.edu

  Subject: Political Science 101 Final paper subject change.

  Hello Professor Woods,

  I know my last email wasn’t the most pleasant, but after talking to your TA, I’ve decided to change my paper topic, but know I need approval first.

  My new topic will be on Women’s inequality in journalism and politics. For my sources I plan on using articles from CNN and books on women’s inequality that I’ve included below.

  I hope you can understand the last-minute change but want to bring a good final paper.

  Thank you,

  Wren Rider

  Holy shit, the girl actually had the balls to change her topic.

  I could have felt bad about it or maybe sent of an email telling her that it was me and not the professor reading this.

  But of course, I didn’t, because before I could even hover over the keyboard for a response, my personal email pinged.

  From: WrenRider@FableUniversity.edu

  To: BradWolf@FableUniversity.edu

  Subject: Political Science 101 Final paper subject change.

  Hello Brad or should I call you Mr. Wolf?

  I just thought you should know after our discussion in the chat, I’ve changed my paper topic and emailed the professor for approval.

  Thank you,

  Wren Rider

  Wren

  I leaned back in my chair, a new tension gathering in my shoulders and seeping into my neck.

  I emailed the professor, so why did I feel the need to tell Wolf anything?

  Maybe because you secretly want that asshole’s approval.

  I shook the thought out of my head before opening up my e-reader to one of the books I’d checked out from the library.

  So maybe Wolf was right.

  Picking a topic, I actually enjoyed did make the writing go faster.

  By the time I actually looked up from my Word doc, it was past midnight.

  Katie, my roommate, was still gone so I hadn’t bothered leaving my spot in front of the computer.

  Or even checked my inbox that pinged two new emails.

  The first from the professor, but the other one had my palms sweating as I opened it.

  From: BradWolf@FableUniversity.edu

  To: WrenRider@FableUniversity.edu

  Subject: Re: Political Science 101 Final paper subject change.

  Wren,

  I’m glad you switched your paper topic, though you may have to enlighten me on how you think this is a topic worthy of a five-page paper.

  -Wolf

  My entire body went rigid as I curled my back.

  I was glad I didn’t see it earlier so it would ruin my writing mojo, but now it had me even more fired up.

  I opened up a page from my e-reader, ready to send a snappy reply when the schools messenger app pinged on my laptop.

  Brad Wolf: Finally, wondering when you’d get to open my email.

  Wren Rider: I was busy working on my paper, the one that was approved, thank you.

  Why were my fingers shaking?

  Definitely from anger at this dude, right?

  Yeah, that was it.

  Brad Wolf: Good to see you were actually working, though I wonder if you’ll be able to pull it off.

  Wren Rider: Seriously, you don’t even know me.

  Brad Wolf: Don’t I?

  My shoulders tensed as I tried to pry my jaw open.

  Wren Rider: No. You don’t. We’ve seen each other like what, once at a party? A party where you where you were hooking up with my roommate. Then you think you can just call me out in the middle of a class chat with some sexist remarks and think you know me? No. You don’t.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Goosebumps prickled my skin as the foggy haze of rage cleared.

  I couldn’t say that to the TA.

  But I just did.

  My fingers tried to work faster than my brain as I typed out my half ass apology.

  Wren Rider: I mean, as far personal goes. Which we don’t have a personal relationship. This is about my paper and I’m sorry for taking this out of context.

  I held my breath, my lungs about to burst as I watched the tell-tale three little dots of him responding flash across the screen.

  Brad Wolf: Hm. Too bad. The Wren Rider with an attitude was a lot more fun.

  Wren Rider: It’s not an attitude, I was just trying to defend my point and I should have been a little bit more professional about it. I apologize.

  Brad Wolf: Now you’re just making it worse. I hope you have more of a backbone in your paper.

  “Everything okay?”

  I jerked out of my seat, closing the messenger app just before whirling around to face Katie, standing at my desk with her sparkly heels in her hand.

  “Hey, yeah, sorry was just emailing with a TA about that political science paper. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She plopped down on her bed, her pink comforter fluffing around her small frame. “Must have been some talk. You just jumped like fifty feet.”

  Chewing on my bottom lip I toiled with the idea of what I should tell the wide-eyed girl in front of me.

  Somehow, I ended on the truth.

  “Well, the TA is Brad Wolf.”

  She gulped. “As in the Big Bad Brad Wolf?”

  My jaw clenched as I forced my head to nod. “Yep. The very one.”