She did a double take. “Do I know you?”
Kill me now.
“I’m Emma… Emma Fox. You’re my TA for Music Theory.”
Blaise stared for a long beat before recognition lit her eyes and they widened. “Oh. Sorry, I thought you were the help. Your outfit sort of… blends in.”
Lovely. Just lovely.
“Easy mistake. Excuse me.” I sent her the tight-lipped smile I usually reserved for my mother’s parties before I escaped to the furthest stall. Muffled giggles followed me.
My fists clenched as the stall door slammed shut behind me, and I had to repeat the chemical properties of sugar three times—a little trick I usually reserved for times my parents would lecture me—before I had properly bored myself and calmed the swelling temper that was telling me to punch Miss Legs-for-Days in her very-pouty-lipped mouth.
She was gone by the time I finished my business, and I took extra time washing my hands to make sure I’d calmed enough to return to the table.
A bathroom attendant?
Really?
Really?
It got worse when I wove through the smiling couples and smell of oysters back to our table.
Noah wasn’t alone anymore. Blaise hovered next to him, leaning over the table and putting him eye-level with the top of her dress—a dress that surely cost more than my best recital one back in Kansas.
My eyes barely registered Noah’s expression, as I was too busy seeing red. I pursed my lips as I approached.
“Ah, there you are.” Noah stood up from his seat and pulled my chair out in what I could only assume was another attempt to confuse me.
My temper screeched to a halt. This proved to be a conundrum for me. I had no clue how to sit down while a guy was holding out my chair. Was I supposed to let him scoot it in? Or pull it in myself? Were we supposed to work together like some sort of chair-tucking-in duo?
There must be written instructions for this somewhere.
I moved forward cautiously and tried to squat over the chair—which felt awkward as heck—and Noah pushed it in until the seat knocked against the back of my knees. I sat down, still way too far from the table, and tried to subtly scoot closer as he found his way back to his seat and smoothly slid in. I gave up a good seven inches from the table.
I frowned, envious of how easy sitting was when you did it yourself. Steeling myself before looking up at the hovering girl, I tried my best to look relieved.
“Oh good, you’re back! I think we’re ready to order,” I simpered, trying to sound grateful. Blaise’s jaw dropped, and I sent her the smile of a shark.
It was very toothy.
Her pale skin blossomed with red as she spluttered, and Noah cleared his throat while I preened.
“Emma, she isn’t a server. You remember Blaise Rousseau from Music Theory?” Noah asked before turning to Blaise. “Was there something else you needed?”
Her wide eyes turned to Noah before ping-ponging back to me with such stupefied disbelief I should’ve felt insulted.
“I just recognized you from class and wanted to stop by to say hi,” she finally said to him, recovering spectacularly and sending Noah a bright smile. “How’s your night going?”
“It’s fine, thank you,” Noah said before taking a drink of his iced tea. “Yours?”
“Same. Well, if you ever need help with Music Theory, just let me know. It’s a shame we aren’t partners anymore.” Blaise’s gaze settled on me, and her smile turned wooden. “And I’m sorry you had to drop the class, Emily. If you put in the work, I’m sure you’ll be ready to try again next year.”
I cleared my throat and warned myself that stabbing her in the eye with my fork would only bring bad consequences. I wasn’t built for prison. So, I pasted on a smile. “Actually, I didn’t drop it.”
Her lips parted, but there was no surprise in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Professor Slade was convinced you would, but that’s really big of you to hang in there. It takes guts.”
It took all my self-control not to grab my fork. “I’ve actually learned a lot since that first quiz. Noah’s been helping me.”
