Page 50 of Lessons in Cruelty

For a second, I think he’s asking if I have another shoe. “A phone? Yeah? Of course.” I pull it out of my tote as evidence. “I, uh, lost my charger. Only got a new one today.” The lie comes easily because I’m just dipping into past experience.

I hate phones.

Things were better when they weren’t around. Now I have all this extra responsibility. Like remembering to charge it, trying not to drop it face first on the curb, keeping food off it when I eat and trying to read a text message at the same time.

And the cheap ones are so shitty. I assume.

“Then I expect your submission to reach me before the end of the day.”

A trio of students walking much faster than us zoom past, one of them glancing back to get a look at Rooke. When he makes eye contact, she bites her lip and quickly looks away, giggling.

She must be at least a year older than I am. Makes me feel so much better, knowing a sophomore can’t keep it together any better than I can.

“Are you going to tell me why you skipped class on Tuesday?”

I keep looking straight ahead, lest I blush again. “I’m sorry. And…I know you’re sick of hearing my apologies.” I swipe my hand out. “I’m not confessing, and not expecting forgiveness.”

“Then what are we doing here, Miss Lee?”

We ascend the steps into AHC, and my eyes automatically lock onto Nora as she peeks over the counter to see who’s coming inside. She smiles at me, and even gives a little wriggle of her fingertips, but that smile freezes when she sees Professor Rooke.

She ducks her head down like she doesn’t want to make eye contact.

Wow, that wasn’t weird at all.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I meant to…” Fuck, what am I supposed to say?

I clamp down on the inside of my lip, desperately trying to think my way out of this. Professor Rooke’s given me a small bump of courage, enough that I didn’t pee myself as we crossed the threshold.

But cowardice is setting in again.

If Kai sees me…

And I know he will, because he’s Professor Rooke’s fucking TA.

I blow out a breath, not realizing how loud it is in the hushed reception area as we head for the stairs to the first floor.

“Do you think the review board cares that you ‘meant’ to come to class? They don’t see motive, they see numbers. Grades, absences. That’s all they care about. And if those numbers aren’t in your favor, trust me, they won’t hesitate to replace you with someone who takes their future seriously.”

My head whips to the side, neck craning so I can look up at my teacher. “What?”

He keeps his eyes focused ahead, his strong jaw and sloping nose in stark profile against the cream-colored wallpaper beside him. “As someone who’s seen how this ends multiple times, let me tell you…talent? Motivation? It only gets you so far. The rest is on you, Miss Lee.”

Another flush of heat creeps up my neck. How am I supposed to explain to him that, at the time I applied, I had no idea my childhood friend would be harassing me at every turn.

Goddamn it, every time I think about Kai, I tingle.

Not in a cutesy, butterflies in my belly, kind of way, but a lewd and disturbing ‘I need dick’ kind of way.

I can still taste him in my mouth. Bitter. Salty. Warm. Can still feel the pressure of his dick crowding against my tongue, pushing deep into my throat, robbing me of air, which I suddenly didn’t need or want⁠—

“I wish I could explain,” I blurt out, if only to stop those thoughts spreading.

There are a few more students around, most hurrying to class. We reach the landing and turn the corner, and when I risk a glance up at Professor Rooke, I wish I hadn’t.

He’s wearing a stony expression. When he looks back at me, his usual warm brown eyes are cold, and his voice is just as unyielding as he searches my face.

“I hate to be dramatic, Miss Lee, but I suggest you try very hard, because your…”