An Inconvenient Bet

Chapter One

Where to start, I could feel the nerves filling every inch of my body and my breath was coming out fast.

This is one of the biggest oral exams of my life; "What it means to be a female." A subject our professor had set in order to delve deep into the minds of his students so that he could pretend he understood what women went through. This was what our English lecture had finally come to.

I thought the entire thing was bullshit and that included my professor.

He was a middle-aged man with fading brown hair that had seen better days. His stomach resembled that of men who spend too much time in bars, sleazing over girls my age in order to feel something for a few minutes.

He was sort of a pervert. The type that peered down your top and perhaps lingered too close when he spoke, but he didn't touch you - no more than any other teacher did. So, I guess that made him okay in a way.

His eyes met mine. They looked tired, depressed maybe. I think I would be depressed, if I had to spend every day of my life teaching in this school, especially when the entire class was either on their phone, asleep or hadn't even turned up.

"Saffie, you're up. Why don't you blow us all away with your witty sense of humour?" he smirked.

My name was Sophie, but everyone called me Saffie. No difference in letters or length, it was just one of those things that came about and had stuck. I didn't particularly mind. Sophie always sounded weird to me, even my family called me Saffie, except when I was in trouble or when mum wanted to make herself sound more serious.

I moved myself to the centre of the room, feeling people's eyes follow me as I went. I met a few of their glances and noticed the boy's eyes glued to my chest. It was known that I had big breasts and no matter what I wore - they always looked huge. And I had been reminded of this fact every day of high school for as long as I could remember. I guess that's what it meant to be female; the scrutiny of the whole world.

I cleared my throat and prepared for my speech. My professor was right in that I would most likely bring some sort of humour into something he deemed so serious. But as many people didn't seem to take my gender seriously enough, I figured roughing up a few feathers wouldn't hurt anyone.

"I am not a porn category or the type of girl you look for on a Friday night. I am not the dumb blonde or the cook in your kitchen. I am not the maid at your beck and call, nor the desperate housewife behind closed doors. I am not your fuck when you have three minutes to spare or the topic of conversation among your peers. I am not second best. I am the daughter you raised and the mother I will choose to become. I am the director of a business and the rose among the thorns," I pause for breath, briefly scanning the room to observe everyone and check they are paying attention.

"I am a woman who deserves equality and --"

"Miss Wilson you're starting to sound like an advert for the feminism movement. Did you even read about the subject I set?" The Professor interrupted.

"You're starting to sound like an asshole, with all due respect sir," I snapped back.

He couldn't stand the thought that us ladies had opinions. I bet if one of the boys were up here banging on about the girl he shagged last weekend; Mr Professor over there would be off his high horse and patting his back in support.

"And for your information, I did read the subject matter," I added. "It's not my fault you happen to be a sexist pig!"

The last comment was not intentional, however completely necessary and judging by the gasps around the room, I had somewhat delivered a blunt exit to what was supposed to be a rather moving speech that I hadn't exactly prepared, but instead thought about over breakfast that same morning.

The Professor's mouth hung open in shock at my words. When he realized everyone was waiting for him to say something; he cracked his neck and ran a hand through what was left of his hair.

"Miss Wilson, why don't you take yourself down to the principal's office and then maybe you can think about the way you talk to people," he half growled at me.

"I'd be happy to," I smiled as I picked up my stuff.

I shoved the door of the classroom open and began the short walk to the Principal's office. The hall was empty with everyone being in class, which made me want to take my time getting to where I was supposed to go.

I rounded the corner to await my detention or my warning or another disappointing letter that would be sent home to my mother.

There was another student sat on the bench outside the Principal's office already and even from the back of his stupid looking head I could already tell exactly who it was.

As I approached, he spun his head round and gave me his signature half grin.

Carter bloody Hughes ladies and gentlemen.

Carter had broad shoulders that sat upon a chiselled body you could tell he worked hard for. His brown hair had been styled to stand up and his stubble had began to come through on his jaw and chin where he hadn't shaved. Annoyingly this only made his jaw look as if it could cut glass and the ruggedness suited him perfectly. His eyes sparkled as they met mine and his mouth as usual was in a perfect smile, showing the right amount of teeth and the right amount of dimples.

Carter Hughes was notorious for all things mischievous and all things drop dead gorgeous. He was capable of swooning girls into bed without even opening his mouth and the fact that he happened to be quarterback of Manhattan High created him a reputation to being part of the elite.

I had known Carter my whole life and the only thing that got under my skin more than my professor was Carter's numerous attempts to get me between his sheets.

And here he was right in front of me smirking as if he was sculpted by God himself.