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You would thinkthat the first day of class would be easy. After all, we're just going through the syllabus and listening to what he expects from us this semester. But not this guy. He spent about ten minutes out of eighty going over things, and then immediately jumped into the lesson. Usually I wouldn't mind that, except for the fact that business ethics is not a class I even wanted to take. I got stuck with it because I enrolled a little late. And of course, Carter is in it.
Throughout the whole class, I can feel someone staring at me, and my self-satisfaction is off the charts. At one point the prof calls on him and Carter has no idea what’s even being discussed. I have to stop myself from cackling
When class is almost over, I stretch with my hands behind my head and discreetly flip him off. The chuckle I hear tells me he saw it.
"Okay, for next week, I want a four-page essay on the most influential thing to ever happen to you," the professor announces in his overcultured voice. "I want them in my email by Sunday at midnight. I'll be going over them on Monday morning."
We all get up, and Kennedy stays by my side. It's honestly not something I expected, but when she came up to me before class, I couldn't find the heart to tell her to go away. I don't even think I really want to. I'm not going to sugarcoat anything for her, but if she still wants something to do with me once she knows my intentions, that's her prerogative. Besides, we do have to work together.
Kennedy and I are walking out of the classroom when Carter catches up to us. He looks down at me, and I brace myself for him to try to talk to me again, but thankfully, he doesn't. Instead, he sighs heavily, runs his fingers through his hair, and walks away. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, relieved he didn't try talking to me in front of Kennedy, but she picks up on it all anyway.
"Damn. The tension between you two is thick," she says.
Ugh. "You noticed that?"
"Noticed it? I could choke on it."
Biting my lip, I try to figure out how to respond to that. "There's just a complicated history between the two of us."
She spins around and holds her hands up, walking backward in front of me. "You don't have to explain anything to me. Carter is an easy person to hate sometimes."
I snort. "My feelings for him go a little deeper than hate. It's more along the lines of wanting to pick away at his idealistic life until there's nothing left but guilt and shame."
"Oh. Why do I get the feeling you're the secret vendetta type?"
"Secret? No. Vendetta? Absolutely. And if you're going to try to stop me, you can save your breath."
Shaking her head, she smiles. "I'm not getting involved. And besides, Carter could use someone putting him in his place for a bit."
I can't figure out if she's actually being this cool about it, or if she's playing double agent. I guess it could be either, and I should really have a little more trust in her, but that's easier said than done.
"I thought you guys were friends."
"We are," she confirms. "But let's face it. The guy walks around like he owns the place. A little humbling might do him good. You might have an issue with Amelia, though. Those two are closer than him and me."
I figured as much, but Amelia Donovan isn't my problem. Carter is. If she doesn't want anything to do with me, it'll suck, but it changes nothing. My plans and my prerogative stay the same regardless.
BY THE TIME MYclasses are done for the day, the only thing I want to do is go back to my dorm room and get started on planning phase one of ruining Carter's life. However, when I walk in the door, I'm faced with something that actually makes me angrier than the way the blond-haired heartthrob still undresses me with his eyes.
Beverly is sitting on her bed, reading Davianna's diary.
I slam the door shut. She startles and drops it on the bed with widened eyes. I'm practically seeing red.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I growl.
She looks at me like she has no idea what she did wrong. "I-I was bored, and this was sitting on your nightstand."
"So, that means you're allowed to read it?" I snatch the diary off her bed and hold it close to me. "Do the words invasion of privacy mean anything to you?"
"Do they mean anything to you?" she claps back. "It's not even yours. And honestly, whoever wrote that thing should get help. She's pretty disturbed."
My blood boils under the surface, and every part of me that is protective of Davi comes out in full force. "She's disturbed? She's fucking dead, you nosy, cold-hearted bitch. So take your opinions and your judgmental bullshit and get the hell out of my face before I make those glasses a permanent feature of yours."
Scrambling to her feet, she grabs her car keys off the nightstand and runs from the room. As soon as she's gone, I'm flooded with emotions. Tears pool into my eyes as I lean my back against the wall and slide to the floor. The pain in my chest is so intense, it almost knocks the wind out of me.
Why did she have to die?
Why can't she be with me, doing everything we planned?
