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“Whitney—”
She whirled and stomped away.
“Whitney!” I hissed, feeling like a total prick as she slammed the door to the lecture hall behind her. I ground my teeth and fought the urge to hurl all of the materials on the table next to the podium to the floor.
How did it come to this? Why didn’t either of see how far we were falling for each other before it was too late?
I wished, more than anything, we could go back to the way things were before the first time we’d kissed. I reached up and ran my fingers over my lips, cursing under my breath as I thought of her lips against mine.
In the end, I had her final exam on my desk in my office the very next afternoon. She aced it, of course. I didn’t even have to mark it up. I entered her grades into the database and made a note that I’d allowed her to take the exam early on the grounds she needed to use my designated exam time to take a test for another class. I doubted anyone would notice, and if they did, I could easily spin a more detailed story.
I spent the next week in agony, and the week after that. I went to Bill’s bookstore several times to fill the void, my head bent over his rare book collection.
I never once crossed paths with her on the bike trails again. I didn’t see her in the library or pass her in the hall. She’d just disappeared, and I felt nothing but regret.
I should have told her how I felt from the beginning. The thought of her hurting as much as I did plagued me as winter break grew closer and closer. Time felt like it was rushing past me in an out-of-control fashion, yet so incredibly slowly at the same time. I was itching to leave and seriously considering not coming back to Gatlington for the spring semester.
I had other students to think of, though.
“She switched her major to fine arts,” one of my students said to her companion as they funneled into the lecture hall on the last Monday before winter break. “That’s why Whitney’s not here. She told me Professor Ellis let her take her exam early so she’d have more time to study for her other finals.”
“She’s taking a double course load next semester; did you hear about that? I’ve never heard of someone doing that in graduate school.”
“Well, she has to make up for a semester in the sociology program. I wonder if she’ll have to do a summer semester to catch up on her thesis.”
I tried not to listen to the thrumming gossip about Whitney. It was all over campus. Whitney had dropped off the radar, no longer going to parties or invested in the day-to-day life of her sorority. She clung to her study group and Jessica and otherwise holed up in the graduate dorms. The queen of campus had fallen, and she was replaced by the woman who Christian had been cheating on her with.
Nicole was set to graduate in spring. Her major was in communications, and I knew the dean of that program well. She’d been spotted wearing a massive engagement ring after coming from fall break, and the campus was alight with speculation about the abrupt, and so far very public, relationship between Nicole and Christian Brockford.
“Any big plans for winter break?” Dr. Dan Montague asked as he leaned on the doorframe in my office, clutching his thermos.
“Headed home, actually.”
He whistled, shaking his head. “Lucky dog. I’ve been to London a few times, but never in the winter. My wife would love to be in your shoes.”
“Ah, well, I’ll be staying with my parents, and their roof leaks and it’s drafty. I’ll probably be spending most of the break trying to mend whatever part of the house started caving in this year.”
“I’m glad you’re getting out of town for a while.” He took a drink from his thermos. “How was your first semester? Any students give you trouble?”
“Not really.” I shrugged, not wanting to get into it. I had some stories to tell, that was for sure.
“Well, a few more days, then. I have to go prepare to ruin my physics students’ lives during their final this week, so I’ll see you around, Rhys. ”
“I’ll be there,” I said, nodding in farewell as he turned out of my office and disappeared in the throng of student hustling to their next classes.
I stayed in my office until the rush of students died out entirely. The hallway lights flickered as I powered down my laptop and slipped it into my briefcase, then ran my fingers through my hair, sighing heavily. Dan was right. Only a few more days until I got on my flight and left all of this behind, at least for a few weeks.
If the rumors were true, Whitney wouldn’t be a student of mine next semester. I had mixed emotions about it. I hoped she hadn’t changed her major because of me and had chosen to pursue fine arts because it was her passion. I would have liked to hear it from her, though.
I didn’t deserve that knowledge, however. I knew it, she knew it. We’d done a great job of avoiding each other the past three weeks, and so far, I hadn’t heard anything about anyone having seen us in Sleepy Hollow, so we were in the clear.
Not that it mattered now. I pushed her away, trying to spare her in the event of a fallout.
And I regretted it every day, even though I knew in my heart it had been the right thing to do.
I turned out the light to my office and locked up, lingering in the quiet hallway for a moment before tucking my keys into my leather jacket and walking toward the entrance of Hollis Hall. It was a dreary place at night—all dark stone and winding, alcove-ridden corridors. I often passed the shadowed alcoves while holding my breath, hoping I wouldn’t be startled by whatever ghosts took up residence in the fortress-like building’s dark corners.
Voices broke through the quiet, however. I stepped aside to let a group of student pass, all of them smiling and saying hi to me before turning a corner and walking out of sight.
