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“Nothing, prof,” I say dismissively. “It was nothing.” I just want to shield Malia from the prof’s wrath again but she hisses like I’ve hurt her. Like I’ve betrayed her. Which is crazy when all I want to do is whip around, pull her into my arms and claim her for the prof to see.
“I don’t need you,” she whispers roughly, pushing past me. Her words are a whip that cut me deep.
“Well, I won’t make the same mistake again.” I snap at her retreating form. “I apologise.”
“Fuck you,” she calls over her shoulder. “Fuck both of you.”
A proud smile pulls at my lips. She told the prof to fuck off. I mean, sure, she said that to me too, but he deserves it. And so much more.
I really should have punched him when I had the chance.
As she walks away, and the pair of us watch her go, every light in the hallway explodes with each step she takes.
I don’t think the prof even notices.
What the fuck is up with those two?
