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“What the fuck?” Adrianna asks.
“I know,” I say, feeling my throat tighten as I remember. “My parents rang me and said I’d have to fend for myself for a week. It was the same year my brother died and my first Christmas without him.”
“How old were you?” Camilla asks.
“Sixteen,” I say.
“Shit. I mean, our world can be harsh, but it sounds like your parents are complete and utter assholes.” Camilla shakes her head. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I say.
Natalya shakes her head. “If you wanted, you could join me in Boston. I’m sure my brother would make space.”
Adrianna chimes in. “Or me.”
I shake my head. “It’s kind of you all, but I think I may stick around here if it’s allowed.” The last thing I want is to gatecrash someone else’s family Christmas. My heart pounds as I turn my attention to the spot where Oak had been standing, but he’s no longer there. I wonder what he is doing during the Christmas break.
Natalya shrugs. “I never heard of people staying behind.”
“The problem is, you’d have to cook your own food,” Adrianna adds, glancing at the cafeteria staff. “Pretty sure the staff doesn’t stick around.”
“You’ll have to ask Principal Byrne for permission,” Camilla says.
I nod in reply, glancing around the cafeteria again in search of him. “Yeah, I guess I best find him and ask if it’s possible.”
“Do you want me to come?” Natalya asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up with you in class later.”
They all nod as I head out of the cafeteria toward Oak’s office. My heart is pounding frantically in my chest as I get closer, knowing that the only other time we’ve been alone since the night in the cottage, we ended up fucking.
I reach the door of his office and lift my hand to knock, fighting the nerves fluttering to life in the pit of my stomach. I rap my knuckles on the door three times and wait.
“Who is it?” His voice booms from the other side.
“Eva Carmichael, sir,” I reply, twirling my thumbs together.
Footsteps follow a few moments of silence, and then he appears in the doorway, glaring at me. “Are you here to apologize?” He asks.
My brow furrows. “What?”
“I said, are you here to apologize?”
I shake my head. “What on earth for?”
Oak glances down the corridor as if checking it is clear, before grabbing my wrist hard and yanking me into his office. “For talking to Dimitry after I explicitly told you that I never want to see Dimitry Jakov near you again.” The door slams shut as he leers over me.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I say, holding my chin high. “You haven’t spoken to me since the incident in the classroom.” I gaze into his fierce blue eyes. “Dimitry asked me to the winter formal, and I said yes, since—”
Oak’s animalistic growl cuts me off as he rushes toward me, grabbing my hips and pushing me face-first against the door. His body molded against mine. “You will not be attending the winter formal with that jerk,” he says, his voice unusually calm.
“It’s too late, I’ve agreed—”
“Rescind your agreement immediately,” he barks.
I shake my head. “It’s only a dance. I can’t exactly take my principal, so you’d prefer I go alone?”
“Yes,” he says. “I won’t stand there and watch you dance with him.”
