Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Interrupting? The corners of his arrogant mouth tilt upward in a way that demands attention, commands it.
God, he really is enjoying putting Evans in his place. It shouldn’t be hot. Despite my best efforts. It is.
Evans straightens, puffing up just enough to pretend he still has control. His eyes flick to mine in annoyance then back to Jude. “Class is already in session, kindly wait outside or see me during office hours.”
“And yet,” Jude glances around lazily, then back at him, “you seem… distracted by something—or is it someone?”
A ripple goes through the room. Shit! Nobody knows right? Did he see us? Jude wouldn’t, would he? In front of everyone?
Everyone feels it. Everyone knows this isn’t about class. This is a warning shot, and I’m already bleeding without being hit.
Evans forces a laugh. “Like I said, if you have business, you can schedule office hours like everyone else, Jude, you’re not above the rules here just because of your name.”
Jude’s smile widens just slightly. Predatory. “We both know that’s not true. Besides, lines bore me. And I hate waiting.” His gaze flicks to me again. Just long enough to make my pulse spike. Then he turns back to Evans. “But, if you insist, I’ve already seen what I needed to see. I’m all about visual confirmation of facts.” He raps his knuckles across the table. “Pretty isn’t she?”
Evans’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” Jude grins. “See you after.”
It’s a threat. Was he talking about me or someone else? And why does Evans suddenly look pale and why is he looking at Sandra? She’s in the front row, hates me, only has eyes for him, and tried to trip me twice last semester when turning my paper in. She said her foot slipped. Evans says not to make a scene considering her dads a massive donor to the school so I can’t in fact punch her but I want to every time she looks at him like she owns him.
Nice try. His mouth is mine.
Silence lingers as Jude exits the room, but I still feel his presence. I can’t exhale, not fully, I can’t take in air either, not now. Now it’s tainted with him and I swear as I try to pay attention for the next hour, I smell his cologne, and peppermint is stained on my very skin.
It’s like seven years never passed.
It’s like I never left.
And it’s like what he wanted to confirm was my presence in that room.
Which means…
He was looking for me.
No longer a ghost.
No, he’s resurrected and I seem to be the reason why.
3
“Every prison has a door. Every door has a keeper. Every keeper has a weakness.” –The Count of Monte Cristo
LILAH
Imake it halfway down the hall before I lose it. I slam my hands against the gray bathroom stall door, push it open so hard it slams back against me in protest, and after three sweat-filled turns, I get the lock twisted so it stays tight. It smells like sweet perfume and bleach, and my stomach is already recoiling from it. I don’t drop to my knees but I want to, I’m so weak that I have to hold myself up between the stall doors. This is bad, really bad. I knew my day was coming. I just didn’t know it would be on oyster day.
On this day.
This day of all days.
Of course.
I cough and then everything Charlie gave me for breakfast makes its way into the toilet until I’m dry heaving. Eyes burning, I reach for some toilet paper to dab at them, it comes back wet with my tears and the staring along with black from my mascara, please don’t streak. I wipe at my mouth and wait.
Jude.
At least my fight or flight response is working right. I wondered what I would act like if he never died and I saw him again, would I turn into a puddle at his feet again out of fear or out of sheer shock at how gorgeous he was, would I run? Good to know that my body instinctually knows to play calm, sprint, and then puke.
I press my forehead to the cool metal divider and think. I breathe in, breathe out, and then the sound of the bathroom door swinging open has me holding my breath altogether.
Voices get louder as I make myself smaller.
“God, did you see Lilah in class, salivating over that hot new guy? I didn’t even know she was in our class, you’d think there would be certain rules against that.” A girl says.
“It can’t be proved she’s fucking Evans,” someone points out. “Besides, she’s kind of nice.”
My entire body goes still.
I don’t move.
Don’t breathe.
Sweat trickles down my spine, at this rate I’m going to combust from stress.
“Who cares? We all know she’s probably doing the professor. You’ve seen the way he looks at her, the way all idiots look at her, big tits are her only currency, heard she’s dumb as shit though so she climbs her way to the top.”