Teach Me (There's Something About Marysburg, #1)

by Olivia Dade

Hating such an unexceptional face might prove difficult, but she’d persevere.

Being a woman didn’t obligate her to make men—or anyone—comfortable in her presence.

“Don’t let the lean frame fool you. He can pound the Ho Hos like nobody’s—” Okay, enough about pounding Ho Hos.

“And sweet Bea, you should know something. You can be more alone in a bad relationship than if you’d never dated anyone at all.”

“I spend a lot of time during the year trying to show my students how our history still influences so much of our daily existence. Our government, our culture, our economy, everything.”

Martin got hints. Martin was watchful. Martin could read and interpret body language. Most well-off, cishet white men couldn’t do either. Didn’t need to do either, unlike the people in their orbit, because they held the power. They created the weather, while others languished in the rain or cringed away from the lightning.

At the sight of such brilliance, such unmitigated competence, she had to shift a bit in her desk chair. Martin had never, never seemed sexier to her.

“One thing you’ll notice over the course of our year together, though, is that history isn’t an inevitable march toward greater freedoms for women and various marginalized groups. Rights can be granted and then removed, and then given again at some point in the future. Or not.”

“Throughout world history, for a variety of reasons, people have erased powerful women, both literally and figuratively, both during their lifetimes and after their deaths.

“Which brings up a related point. Sometimes, powerful women throughout history have altered their appearance—in person, or in art.” Martin’s blue eyes were solemn. “They want to send a certain message. To reinforce their authority. To protect themselves or their legacy. To erase or curate some aspect of themselves to prevent being erased by others.”

“In my class, I don’t save discussions of women for women’s history month, because if we don’t talk about women, we’re not addressing half the population. If you don’t know what they were doing, what rights they did or didn’t have, how they affected their culture and government and economy, you don’t know history. Period.”

History is written by those in power, but those deprived of power deserve to be seen too.

“The cliché is correct: Villains get all the best lines. Besides, they drive the plot.”

“And women often get cast as villains for trying to be the heroes of their own stories, so better to embrace the role from the start. Make it your own.”

“There’s a lot of black clothing for women my size, but most of it was created to facilitate the disappearance of the woman wearing it. To erase her from sight in apology for her existence as a fat woman. That’s not the kind of black clothing I wear. Mine has metallic accents. Bold lines. Quality fabrics. Good tailoring. All unmistakable markers that I’m not apologizing or looking to disappear.”

“I don’t intend to present a more comfortable version of myself for anyone. Even me.”

Swallow enough hurt in silence, and the pain either chokes you or curdles into gut-deep rage.

Martin leaned close and whispered, “Rose, stop eye-fucking the coffee and just drink it.”

And that man is so into you, he can barely form words when you’re occupying the same space.”

“I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt her, because I’m human, and I also don’t know enough about her to avoid any sore spots. But I can promise I will do my absolute, unequivocal best not to cause her pain. Ever.”

Her mouth pressed into a thin, white line. “Then there were the people behind us in line at the grocery store, who’d sigh and roll their eyes and make comments about what we bought with our food stamps. Who’d inform us when we’d chosen something they considered too expensive, since they didn’t want their valuable tax dollars paying for anything more than the bare essentials. And all the other people who looked at us and said we obviously didn’t need help, obviously shouldn’t get money, because we dressed too nicely. Didn’t look poor enough. Had a decent TV.”

Sometimes the most horrible things are also the most effective.”

“When you’re wearing the garment, do you feel confident? Do you feel powerful? If looking beautiful is important to you, do you feel beautiful in it? Does it bring you joy? Will there always be some niggling doubt in your mind about its fit or color, or does it seem made for you? You don’t want to buy something you’re always readjusting.”

Someday, the sound of her quiet little sob would stop echoing in his skull. Not anytime soon, though.

“Rose…” He tried to smile. Failed. “Please let someone love you. Even if it’s not me.” Then he left for good.

“You may not have gotten a penny from our son in the divorce, but you kept us.” Annette blinked back her own tears. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Every second. I’ll have your back every second for the rest of your life, Rose. And if anyone tries to make you feel small, go subarctic and hand them their asses. But do it in front of me, because I want to watch.”