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As I’m parking, I can feel Emerson’s eyes on me. Do I look at her? Ask her if she’s okay? I fucked up so bad this morning, and all I want to do is find a solution to fix it.
“You don’t have to walk me to class.” Emerson’s soft voice wraps around me. I try to hide the fact that I’m a little sad that she doesn’t want me to walk her to class but swallow it down. What she wants, and what she’s going to get are two very different things. I don’t care what happened this morning I’m going to make sure she gets to where she’s going in one piece.
“I do, and I will. I fucked up this morning, and I’m going to find a way to make it better starting now.” I exit the car, slinging my backpack over my shoulder before helping her out of the passenger seat. Peering down at her, I stare at the dusting of freckles along her nose. I want to kiss each one, to make a promise to her with each one.
She looks nervous, her perfectly straight teeth nibbling on her bottom lip, a lip I tasted this morning. Cherries. Sweet. Tart. Cherries. That’s what she tastes like. Licking my lips, I force the thought away, refusing to think about the moment that forced me to have to start all over again. I need to be stronger.
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell her with a smile as we walk in the direction of the biology building.
“That’s easier said than done,” she mumbles, her eyes trained on the sidewalk. When we reach the building, I grab onto the strap of my backpack in an effort to stop myself from reaching out for her, from hugging her, from touching her.
“I’ll see you after class, okay?” I say, gathering a few lingering glances.
“Yeah,” Emerson says, walking away from me, her head still hanging low. I feel like a parent sending their kid off to school for the first time, my stomach filled with bricks of anxiety. Once I see her enter the double doors, I make my way to my own classroom that happens to be in the building next to hers.
Thank fuck. I’m glad my class isn’t across campus from hers.
Walking into the classroom and up the steps, I take my usual spot in the back of the room. Unzipping my bag, I pull out my book, a notebook, and a pen. Not even two minutes later, Vance walks in, slamming down into the seat next to me.
“You gonna explain the rest to me now?” is the first thing out of his mouth.
“Good morning to you too,” I snap back.
“Yeah, yeah… morning sunshine. Now tell me what the fuck is going on?”
My molars clash together. “It’s complicated.”
“You already said that. Now tell me why you’re pretending to be her boyfriend? Is your dad forcing you to do this? Is she paying you? You aren’t in love, are you?” Fuck, he’s not going to let this go. I should have known Vance wouldn’t. I could have saved myself the little runaround speech I was going to give him at my house.
Feeling Vance’s eyes on me, impatience bleeding out of them I sigh, slouching down in my chair.
“The only thing my dad has to do with this is that he scared Emerson and that’s why I got the condo for us. It’s not that big of a deal, really. I planned on moving out anyway. She was uncomfortable living with my dad, hell she is uncomfortable around everybody if you haven’t noticed. So that just pushed me to make the move sooner.”
Vance’s green eyes narrow. “She looked really nervous when we were there, like she has something to hide.”
I almost laugh, if only he knew. Vance is a good judge of character usually, but after the incident with Ava and him losing his damn mind over their brutal past, he seems to think everyone is lying in some way shape or form.
“She’s always nervous, and she does have things she is hiding, everyone does, but it’s not what you think.” I’m hovering between wanting to tell him what’s wrong with her without telling him anything private. I don’t want her to think I’m some asshole that goes around telling people about her personal life.
Vance stares at me his gaze, boring into mine as he waits for me to finish.
“She had a rough start to life, okay? It left her with panic attacks and some other crap to deal with. She doesn’t do well around people, social anxiety or some shit like that, but for some fucking reason, she does well around me… most of the time, anyway. When I’m not fucking it up. I don’t know what happened to her, and I’m sure she’s not going to tell me but either way, it fucked her up. I’m just trying to be a decent friend, trying to protect her however I can.”
