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“Go on . . .”
I shrug. “He’s not bad on the eyes.”
“Getting warmer. Cut the shit. Just admit it.”
“Jeez.” I exhale. “Fine. I think he’s hot. Like smoking hot. Nuclear hot. The hottest man I have ever seen. Hot.” I let out an audible, dramatic-as-hell sigh.
She giggles. The smirk on her face is enough to make me place an ad in a newspaper: accepting applications for a new best friend.
“Yes, maybe he’s hot, but he’s also a total douche canoe,” I follow up.
“Douche canoe? Really?”
“Dick. He’s a huge dick.”
“I wonder if McHottie has a huge dick.” She completely ignores my distress. Typical Heather.
If I wasn’t embarrassed before, now I’m really cringing.
“Totally off-topic,” I mockingly scold. “How hot or big his dick is,” I whisper, “is not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Her eyebrow raises, and again, I’m totally second-guessing this friendship. Too bad I love her ass and could never replace her.
“The point is, I’m afraid he’s coming for me.”
“With his big dick?”
“Yes.”
She bursts into laughter, and I realize what I’ve just said.
“What?” I backtrack, chanting, “No. No. No. No.”
“The lady doth protest too much.”
“Really? You cannot use Shakespeare when I’m talking about Trent Aldridge. The man is the devil incarnate. And I don’t want him like that.” I use my stern voice.
I don’t know whether he’s behind the break-in or the phone calls, but I suspect he is. I don’t trust that man. When I met him, he was way too smug and full of himself for my taste.
She takes a deep breath and straightens her back, then drops her voice. “Do you really think he’ll come after you . . . ?” Her voice trails off as if she finally realizes how scared I am.
I’m about to answer and finally tell her about all the strange stuff that’s happened to me when the door opens and our professor walks in. I turn my attention toward the front of the class.
“Ms. Hart,” she says, looking straight at me. The muscles in my neck tighten. She just said my name, and I have no idea why. “Can you stay after to speak with me?”
I nod.
“What’s that about?” Heather whispers.
So wrapped up in Trent-stress, I lift my shoulders before remembering I applied for a position in the department for next semester. After this year, I plan to continue my education and get my master’s. The program is super competitive, so working with the department will help my chances of getting accepted.
“Maybe it’s for the position.”
Her eyes light up, and she smiles broadly.
Both of us know this could be huge for me.
The class goes by, and for the first time in months, I’m not thinking of how Trent Aldridge will reap his revenge. Instead, I’m thinking about what I can do to get far away from my sister.
