Page 91 of Fang Fiction

“Just a little under the weather.” Tess forced out a smile.

The kids filed out as Tess gathered her notes—she heard a laugh from the hallway and looked up to see Rick talking with one of his friends. The panic flooded through her then, her body screaming at her to run, go, jump out a window, anything to get out of this room, but her muscles were rigid, incapable of motion, even as her breath flamed against her lungs like she’d just sprinted up a mountain.

She knocked into the chair behind her, and Rick turned at the sound. He gave a little nod and a smile—What’s up?—then went back to his friend, still laughing as they walked off down the hall. Tess felt her knees give way beneath her, and by sheer force of will she managed to collapse into a chair and not onto the floor, her body bathed in sweat, heart pounding, lungs contracting painfully, lightheaded and dizzy as her body’s oxygen dwindled.

That was the first panic attack. Tess made it through another dozen or so before she stopped going to campus. Another ten before she decided to drop out of school. When she tried to tell a counselor, she panicked. When she tried to go to campus, she panicked. When she tried to tell Joni, she thought about what would happen if Joni believed her, and it fucked up her article and her future—or worse, if she didn’t believe Tess, because Rick really was such a nice guy, and none of this made any sense, and maybe Tess was just crazy to be overreacting like this. When she tried to go to sleep…well, eventually she just stopped trying. It wasn’t worth it, not at night. She’d get a few hours here and there during the day. It was enough to keep living. Just not enough to stay where she was. So Tess did what she had to do.

She ran.

Chapter 22

Tess didn’t know how long she talked about her terrible memories—hours? more?—but Callum listened to every word. When she finished, she felt empty, wrung out—but in a way that felt kind of liberating and revelatory? Like all the shame and self-hatred and anger and fear she’d been carrying for three years was finally leaving her body, leeching out of her pores and vaporizing into the air.

There was something particularly calming about having Callum next to her in this moment—his slow heartbeat, his cool skin.

“How do you feel?” he asked. “What do you need?”

“I feel…sleepy.” She smiled, and he did too.

“Then I’ll let you rest. Should I take you back to your room?”

He rubbed her knee reassuringly, and she sighed as she nestled against him. Tess had been so alone for the past three years; she didn’t realize how much she missed the comfort of another person’s touch.

“Can I sleep here?” she asked.

“Of course. Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

Tess looked up at him, and he was so kind, so tentative, she wondered how she ever could have seen him as a threat.

“Stay with me,” she whispered.

He took her by the hand, and she followed him back to the same bed where she’d slept beside him only yesterday—but things felt very different now.

Strangely, she wasn’t nervous at all tonight, even though Callum had confessed his desire for her. She thought back to Joni’s party, to the anxiety she felt when her old classmate Oscar had flirted with her the tiniest bit—she attributed that feeling to not really knowing him, not knowing whether he was the sort of man who would respect her wishes or do whatever he wanted despite them. With Callum, there was no longer any question in Tess’s mind that he would never, ever push her into something she didn’t want. So she felt easy with him. It was such a fucking relief.

“Do you need anything?” he asked as they both settled under the covers. “Some water?”

“I’m okay.” Tess smiled. “What about you? How does your leg feel?”

“I feel like a new man,” he said quietly. Tess wondered if he was talking about more than just the leg. Because the truth was, she felt like a new woman too.

—

Tess woke early the next morning, ravenous with hunger. Callum was asleep, and given that he was recovering from his injury (miraculously quickly, but still), she wanted to let him rest as long as he needed. So she found a scrap of creamy paper and a pen on his desk, and left him a note that she’d gone to eat and shower.

Somehow, everything about her beautiful rooms felt even better this morning; the coffee and pastries Sylvie had left her were divine. (Was Sylvie refilling them, or did they simply have magical properties that kept them from going stale? Because that was magic Tess could get behind: carb-based magic.) After she ate, she finally got into that big copper soaking tub she’d been meaning to try since Sylvie first glamoured it. There was a glass bottle on the rim of the tub labeled blue lotus oil, and Tess tipped a generous amount into her bath—it turned the water a shimmering cobalt and smelled like absolute heaven.

Tess soaked for the better part of an hour, letting the heat and steam unknot her muscles. Her mind wandered through a highlight reel of Callum Yoo: The way his eyes flashed when he teased her. The feel of his strong arms gripping her as he lifted her off the ground. The look on his face when he told her he wanted her.

I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time we went into that forest.

What was he thinking? She suddenly felt desperate to know.

Tess’s skin was hot from the bath and slick from the oil. It was hard to resist imagining what Callum would do if he was in this tub with her, the way the water would slosh as he slid his hands over her body.

She automatically tried to shove her thoughts in another direction—but then she paused to consider why. If he wanted her, and she wanted him, and she trusted him…what was stopping her?

When Tess finally dragged herself out of the bath, she was bursting with anticipation for the next time she’d see Callum. As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait long: She had just pulled on a buttery dark green wrap dress when she heard a knock at her door—she rushed to open it.