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I blink, completely perplexed. “What?”
“Love, you are theonlyone who hasn’t made an appointment to deliver their group project proposal.” He sounds irritated, and runs his hands through his dark brown hair. “I don’t have a lot of free time to spend on office hours, thanks to someone.” His eyes pin Oliver, who can’t help but smile sweetly. “So this is what I’m making for you. If you don’t present the proposal and have it accepted by me, then it’s twenty percent off your grade.”
“What?”I gasp, fingers tightening on my backpack. “What thefuck—”
“Or if you prefer to speak to me like that, we can just do thirty percent off now anyway,” he continues. “I don’t care what’s going on in your home life. If you’re going to take my class, you’re going to complete the work like anyone else. Now, get in my office, and present your group project proposal, or leave. I don’t care which.”
I stare at him for a moment longer until finally stepping inside and allowing Oliver to close the door behind me. The room feels smaller than it did a second ago, and I suck in a breath as I drop into the chair sitting across from him, backpack in my lap.
“You’re nicer when I’m talking to you over the internet,” I mutter unhappily, digging through my bag for my photography notebook.
“I’d be nicer to you in person too, if you deserved it,” he clarifies without missing a beat. I feel my cheeks flush at his words, but still drop my notebook onto the desk and let my backpack slide onto the floor beside me.
His office is colder than his classroom, I realize, and rub my bare arms. It hadn’t been cool enough to wear more than a tee and shorts, but now I’m wishing I’d worn a hoodie. The problem, of course, is the only one that doesn’t need to be thrown in the laundry is the one thathegot me.
“I’m photographing the cemetery,” I tell him, tapping the shot mockups in my notebook. "My plan is to go to Tolomato Cemetery tomorrow night to do it, since it’s going to be clear and the new camera you got me is equipped to shoot at night. Hopefully, I can catch some sundown shots as well, but it depends on the tourist action at that time.”
I sit back, eyes on his, as he pulls my notebook over to him and studies my notes and mockups for the project.
“Most people use people or animals,” he tells me, glancing up from the pages. “Mind telling me why you aren’t, since it would be an easier first project if you were? I’m sure Oliver suggested it.”
“Because that’s easy. A person or an animal is an obvious focal point. I thought, originally, about finding aninterestingspot in a crowd or an object that would naturally pull the eye from a crowd of people,” I admit with a small shrug. “But that wasn’t what I wanted in the end.”
“So what do you want?” He gets up and walks behind me, then opens a drawer by the door a few feet back. “I’m getting you a different lens,” he says, both hands coming to rest on the top of the cabinet. “I know what I gave you, and I don’t think it’s going to do you the most justice. If you’d told me that this was your plan, I would’ve made sure you were better prepared for it.”
My eyes flit from him to the drawer, and the doorknob that he’s mostly obscuring. Had I heard the click of the lock? Or had it just been the drawer, as he’d explained? I sure as hell hadn’t seen him lock it. “Lens,” he repeats, showing the small cloth bag he’s pulled out of the drawer before closing it. “You didn’t answer. What are you going for?”
Tapping my fingers against the surface of his desk, I straighten so I can wait for him to come back around in a more comfortable position. “I want to create interest with a lack of a common focal point. In using the cemetery, I want to use the shapes, angles, and it would be nice to get some… shadows,” I say, then swallow hard as he suddenly leans over me, his arms on either side of my shoulders as he places the lens on my notebook and scoots them closer to my side of the desk.
“Go on,” he invites, warmth seeping into my body from the heat of his. “It’s not a proposal until you finish the idea.”
“You can’t be serious about grading me on this,” I snap, unable to go anywhere unless I’m willing to slam my chair back into him. “You’re—”
“Completely serious,” he assures me, jaw brushing my hair. “Goon, Love.”
“I want to take the graves and tombstones—to use them as my focal points. Not just the easy, angel or human shaped tombs. But I want to use the more complex and unusual ones as well to draw the eye. I don’t know. I just like weird things, okay?”
“I’m not condemning your ideas,” he sighs, urging me up and out of the chair. I feel myself trembling, my body like a wire pulled tight as I wait for his touch with equal parts fear and anticipation. “While you might want to avoid him right now, you should really use Oliver. He’s done projects similar to that before, and he’ll be able to help.” He pulls me around to his side of the desk, firmly enough that I can’t refuse unless I’m willing toput up a fight, or scream. Both of which are viable options right now.
“How’s your head?” he asks conversationally, turning me by my arm and forcing me tositon the edge of his desk.
“I—what?” I ask, confused and unsure of what he’s even asking. Then bring my hand up to grab his wrist when he reaches out, and his smile turns almost endearing.
“Your head, baby girl. Does it still hurt?”
“I guess, but it’s more like a headache now.” I don’t know what else to say, or if I should be replying at all, frankly. But it isn’t a crime for asking… yet.
His fingers smooth through my blonde hair, searching gently along my scalp for the knot I’d given myself at his place. When he finds it, I move to pull away, but he does so first. “I was worried I was wrong, and you were a little concussed,” he admits, hands falling to my shoulders.
“Well, I’m not,” I snap, eyes wide as I examine his face for any clue of what he wants. “I’m fine; I just have to go. I have another class, and—”
“No, you don’t, Love,” he sighs, reaching up to press a thumb against my lips as he grips my jaw in his hand. “The only place either of us have to go is home. I have twenty minutes to spare so I can still make Oliver’s stream, and while I know he’d love for you to watch it too, I’m not going to tell you if you should or shouldn’t.”
“Maybe I don’t want anything to do with either of you,” I whisper, face hot as I work to speak around his grip on my face.
“Maybe that’s not true.” His voice isn’t unkind, exactly, but there’s definitely a note of arrogance in it. “If you didn’t want anything to do with us, you would’ve gone to the cops. You would’ve told Juniper. At the very least, you would’ve dropped my class or not come in today. I was wondering if I’d still see you on the roster, truthfully. But you are, and you’re here.” Heshoves his thigh between my knees, working them open until he can stand almost pressed against me.
“I didn’t think you even liked me,” I find myself accusing, my hands gripping the desk under me. “I thought it was just Oliver. You don’t act like you want anything to do with me most of the time.”
