Heshouldreject me. I’d do the same if the roles were reversed.
“It’s not just you,” he adds, rolling onto his back, eyes closed. He folds his veiny hands over his chest with a long exhale. “My brother’s been going through some shit, and I don’t know how to help him. He doesn’t talk, barely leaves the house…except for tonight, that is. And on top of that, I’ve got…things I can’t really discuss.”
“Forest-related things?”
One eyelid peels back, peering at me.
“Your dad told me not to go into the forest too,” I tell him, pulling my knees to my chest. It’s unnerving how comfortable and easy this entire situation feels, despite the fact that we were practically dry humping and arguing just moments ago. Like we’ve been doing this forever. “Does it have anything to do with Death’s Teeth?”
He closes his eye again. “The less you know, the better. Trust me.”
“Give me a reason to.”
“I’m your professor. You should respect my authority.”
Dropping my knees, I shift onto them and lean forward, letting my hair fall over my face as I hover above him, planting my palms on the mattress. Right next to him. His breath hitches when the ends of each strand brush over his chest and arm, but he doesn’t look at me.
“Right now, you’re not my professor,” I say. “And I’m not your student. We’re just two people in a bedroom. Talking. Resisting.”
“Séductrice.”
I smirk. “Is that seductress in French?”
“Oui. Very good.”
My cheeks burn. “Are you just trying to distract me?”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
He sighs. “Stay out of the woods, stay away from my father, and don’t go poking around Death’s Teeth. No good can come from any of that.”
24
SUTTON
When I announceOthello as the spring play, most of the students don’t give a shit. Not that I was expecting them to, but the deafening silence that ensues after my big reveal is still staggering.
“What, no complaints? No comments or questions?” I hold out my arms, waiting. “This is your final, people. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
In the second row, Lexington shrugs. “Better thanHamlet.”
“Definitely not obscure enough,” Meg says. “Why notLove’s Labor’s LostorTitus Andronicus?”
“No one wants to doTitus Andronicus, let’s be real here. Plus, the way our semester is structured, we need something we can run through in a few short weeks, and that one requires a certain level of depth that might be too advanced for this course.”
Soft laughter ripples through the seats.
“After everything that went down in the fall, wouldn’t a comedy be sort of refreshing for the community?” Sabrina questions.
I point at her, nodding. “Indeed. This is why you’re the Visio Aternae treasurer—I appreciate your commitment to thinking of others.”
She blushes, and someone mutters something incoherent under their breath.
“Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to why I didn’t choose a comedy?”
“Because misery loves company?” Meg suggests.
