My Notes Aren't Yours Alone Anymore novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Study Mule
Marlo reads the forum thread calling her Ellis Forbes's study mule, keeps her notebook in her bag when he kicks her chair, and Ellis slips: she'll fail without it.
The thread about Ellis Forbes passed four hundred replies on Tuesday night, and I was in it.
I found it on the Brightwater board while my roommate brushed her teeth down the hall.
The title said: "Did Ellis Forbes suddenly start studying to get Keeley Chauncy?"
Keeley was the girl everyone called the prettiest in our year.
She had told a cafeteria table she wanted to transfer to a university three hours south.
Now Ellis was looking up that school's admission scores, and the board was thrilled.
"The school bad boy hitting the books for love. I'm obsessed."
Somebody asked: "But isn't he asking Marlo Armitage for her notes every single day?"
The answer had forty-one likes.
"So what? He needs his grades up to follow Keeley. Marlo is basically his study mule."
I read the last two words until my screen dimmed.
For almost two years, Ellis had sat behind me in Statistics.
When he didn't understand something, he kicked the back of my chair, twice.
I would pass my notebook over my shoulder without turning around.
He always gave it back by two o'clock that same afternoon, never overnight.
I had thought that was our understanding.
I turned off my phone and lay awake until my roommate, Dani, came back and asked what was wrong.
I showed her the thread.
She read it standing up, in her pajamas, with toothpaste still on her chin.
"Delete this," she said. "No, don't. Screenshot it. Then tell me you're not giving that boy another page."
"I'm not," I said, and I meant it more by the second.
On Wednesday I got to the lecture hall early.
Keeley was in the doorway, holding a coffee with both hands.
"Marlo! Do you have a spare pen? Mine died on the walk over."
I gave her one.
She smiled at the handwriting on my notebook cover.
"Yours is the neatest in the whole building," she said. "Honestly, don't let anyone rush you into handing those out. They're yours."
It was a kind thing to say, and I thanked her.
Then I took my seat in the third row, put my notebook on the desk, and waited.
The hall filled up.
The professor wrote Thursday's midterm date on the board and underlined it twice.
Behind me, Ellis dropped into his chair and it creaked.
I could smell his leather jacket and the cold from outside.
Ten minutes into the lecture, the professor put a formula on the screen with three subscripts.
I heard Ellis breathe out slowly.
Then came the kick against my chair.
Once, then again.
I kept my eyes on the board.
My notebook stayed under my hand.
He kicked a third time, harder, and the girl beside me looked over.
"Marlo," Ellis whispered. "Come on."
I didn't turn.
"Is there a problem in the back?" the professor asked, and half the room looked around.
"No problem," I said, before Ellis could answer.
Two rows over, Keeley glanced back at us and gave me a small, sympathetic frown.
I took my notebook off the desk and slid it into my bag.
Then I zipped the bag closed, and the sound carried.
Somebody in the row behind laughed under their breath.
It was the first time in two years I had said no to him without saying a word.
My hands were shaking, so I held them flat on my knees.
Ellis kicked the chair once more, quietly this time.
Then he stopped, and the silence behind me felt strange.
I kept the notebook.
When class let out, I stood fast, but Ellis was faster.
He came around the end of the row and blocked the aisle with one arm on the seat back.
Up close his gray eyes were tired, and his thumb was stained with ink from a pen that had leaked.
"Armitage," he said. "Notebook."
"No."
Dani appeared at my elbow with her bag already on her shoulder.
"The midterm is tomorrow," he said. "You know I can't."
"I know," I said. "I'm ready for it."
"Marlo, don't do this." He dropped his voice so only I could hear it. "She'll fail without it."
I stared at him.
"Who will?" I asked.
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