Page 136 of Midnight Curfew

“What”—I swallow the lump in my throat—“kind did you get?”

“Spicy salami,” she whispers, “with mushrooms and arugula.”

Yuck.

“What did Callum get?” I ask, but my heart skips a beat. I don’t know if I should bring him up at all.

She replies quickly, though. “He said it was too many carbs.” She grips the mug in both hands, her knees bent up to her chest. “He always eats my leftovers, though.”

“What happened then?”

Sipping a little more bourbon, she opens her mouth, but it closes again as she frowns. “We went home,” she says. “He had to make some calls, and Milo…”

“Milo was with you?”

Air suddenly pours into my lungs.

She licks her lips. “He said I was going to get into trouble for the windows.”

I lift my eyes, her beautiful work changing the view outside with every color.

“And then?” I press.

“He said the dean would spank me,” she explains.

I lock my jaw. Spank her?

Panic rises in her voice. “And I know they still do that here, if they have the parents’ permission, they can—”

“Anna—”

“But he said if I let him do it,” she rushes out, sobs starting again, “he’d go easier and we could get it out of the way.”

She cries into my mug, and if she tells me he laid a fucking hand on her, I’ll kill him. That motherfucker should’ve been fed to the swamp four years ago.

I blink long and hard. “Did he touch you?”

She struggles to take in little breaths as she stifles her tears. “He…he started to undo my pants…”

Breaking into tears again, she loses her grip, and I grab the mug before she spills it.

“Why won’t people leave me alone?” she begs. “I didn’t think men were going to be like this.”

“They’re not men.” I turn around again and swallow the rest of the liquor.

But the guilt creeps in. How many times have I flirted with wording to get someone to do what I wanted? I called it teasing or seduction or playing, but then I never saw them go home and face themselves. I didn’t think about it after we were done, so I never thought they did, either.

Callum was the only one who really got into my head. At least, given the minimal amount I let him talk.

“Where was Callum?” I ask her.

She lies back down, tucking her hands under her head. “In his father’s office,” she tells me. “I ran before he came back out. Walked around for a while, to the park and stuff.”

I exhale, grateful he wasn’t to blame. I wish he was, but I’m also relieved.

She sniffles. “He’s going to be so mad I ran away.”

I stand up. “I’m gonna make him mad at me instead, so don’t worry.”