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I lifted my gaze and found gray eyes. Professor Grant gave me a look, and though it was fleeting, I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.
What the fuck?
When class was over, I collected my things and waited for all the other students to leave before going to Professor Grant. Alisha and her friend were the first to go this time and they were in a rush, so I assumed they had something much more important to worry about.
When the class was clear, I stopped in front of Professor Grant’s desk. “I didn’t tell Alisha anything, I swear.”
He placed a paper down and looked up at me. “I know you didn’t.”
“Okay. Because I would never tell anyone what we did.”
“I know. But let’s not talk about that here, Zara. These walls are thin. Eyes and ears are everywhere. Can we make that agreement? That we keep it quiet unless we’re sure we’re alone?”
I nodded. “Yes. I can do that.”
He ripped off a sticky note from the pad and placed it on the edge of the desk, facing me. “Write your number and I’ll text you.”
I blinked down at the paper then looked up at him again.
He laughed. “Don’t look at me like that, Zara. Yes, I want your number. Yes, I want to text you. And no, I’m not upset about the whole Alisha thing, though it was strange. I’ve never seen her talk to you before.”
“Yeah, she never has. It was weird for me too.” I picked up one of the pens from his cup and wrote it down. He retrieved the sticky note, folded it, tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, and then picked up his pen to continue reading over one of the papers in front of him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Porter.”
“Tomorrow,” I repeated, then I exited the classroom.
11
Zara
It was nearing 10:00 PM and I hadn’t received a single text message. My phone was always particularly dry because I didn’t have many friends, but this night was different. I was expecting something—anything from Cole, but nothing came in.
Was he upset about earlier? Did he think I was to blame for Alisha’s sudden speculating? Maybe I stared too hard at him and it was obvious to everyone else.
I sighed. I was overthinking, as usual. He’d never said when he would text me, plus he was a busy man who had classes throughout the day and papers to grade when the classes were over. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t texted me yet.
I sat up on my bed, dragging my palms up and down my face to perk myself up. Astrid was on her bed on the other side of the room, still in her oversized sweatpants and hoodie while curled up and streaming a show on her tablet. I didn’t think she’d left the dorm all day, and seeing as her bed was covered in snack cake and cookie wrappers, chocolates, and chips, it felt safe to assume it was her time of the month and she didn’t feel like putting up with anyone else’s shit.
“Hey, Astrid…are you okay?” I asked. It wasn’t like me to not check. I cared about her, whether she realized it or not. Sure, we didn’t really know each other well for being dorm-mates, but I liked her. She was a chill person and hardly ever complained. For all I knew, I could have been wrong and maybe she was going through something else.
Astrid turned halfway, glancing at me. “Yeah. I’m fine, I guess. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You just seem kind of down today.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She turned fully and sat up, resting her back against the wall. “Shawn broke up with me.”
Oh. So, I was wrong. It wasn’t her time of the month, and it was something bad.
“Aw. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be.” She waved the comment away. “He was an asshole anyway.”
“So why do you seem so sad?”
“I’m assuming you’ve never been broken up with before? Doesn’t matter if the guy is a complete asshole or the sweetest guy ever. A breakup still fucking sucks.”
I pressed my lips. I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d only had two boyfriends before, and technically, I’d never broken up with them and they hadn’t broken up with me. Summers or spring breaks always happened, and I always seemed to drift away from the guys, too busy reading or helping with camps during my free time. Eventually, the contact just stopped, and the status of boyfriend and girlfriend was gone. When the school year started again, it was like we’d never even dated and were only friends.
“Anyway, I doubt you’ll ever have this problem,” Astrid went on.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I just mean…you kind of do your own thing. You don’t go after guys, don’t hang with them. You’re more…the bookworm type. You don’t really have time for boys and their bullshit.”
