When he playfully pulls her hands beneath the flaps of his overcoat, my stomach drops like I’ve swallowed an anchor. Something visceral and white-hot scalds my chest, a heated brand searing straight through my heart.
They turn in my direction, their collective laughter sawing me in two.
I slip beneath the branches of a large pine tree, hiding from sight.
It shouldn’t bother me when there’s nothing I canreallydo about it. Even if I were to throw caution to the wind and recklessly indulge, where would it go? I can’t dojust sex, and she won’t stay at Avernia forever.
I’m stuck here with my past while she has an entire future to consider.
Still, the pang that ripples through my abdomen as she and Lexington prance past makes me clench my teeth so tight, my migraine seeps in, triggered by the onslaught of stress and tension.
My fingers are uncomfortably numb as I drag them through my hair, staring while they disappear into her dorm.
So like many other nights after a Death’s Teeth function, I make my way back to my apartment, turn off all the lights in my room, and wait for the pain to subside enough to fall asleep.
14
SUTTON
A knockon my office door sends a wave of annoyance across my skin, and I quickly swipe out ofThe Delphic Pageson my phone, though the post I was staring at continues to flash in my mind.
WANNABE ACTRESS ON CAMPUS, KNOWN FOR SLEEPING WITH FILM EXECS FOR PARTS. IS THE NEW GIRL FUCKING THE DEAN?
They don’t name her explicitly, which I imagine is simply to keep curse speculation at a minimum, but it’s obvious to me who they’re talking about.
The knock comes again, and I push thoughts of Elle from my mind. None of what she did before she came here matters really, even if any of it is true.
I glance down at the back of my hand as another knock comes, smoothing my fingers over the scar.
Everyone does what they need to in order to survive.
My chest burns until I clear my throat, shoving my hand beneath the desk and looking at the door.
“It’s open,” I call.
Quincy Anderson peeks through the crack she creates, her brown eyes darting around the room before she enters. “This a bad time?”
Shaking my head, I gesture toward the space in front of me. “Not at all. Come in.”
She leaves the door open as she crosses the threshold, as if uncomfortable with the idea of being trapped in here with me alone.
Good sense, I suppose. We don’t know each other really, aside from being here together during undergrad—she was a year or two ahead of me, but I was explicitly forbidden to speak to her.
Mother and Jean-Louise would keel over if they knew what I’ve done with her sister. What I’d like tokeepdoing but can’t. Won’t. Especially not now that I’m supposed to be investigating her to keep Death’s Teeth off her scent.
Elle would’ve shut the door though. I know that much.
Quincy’s gaze flickers to the stack of papers spread across my desk. “If I’m interrupting something, I can come back.”
“Oh no, I was just needling at an old screenplay. I’ve been trying to complete one since freshman year of high school but keep rewriting the first act instead. It’ll probably just be buried with me.”
“I had no idea you wrote plays.”
“Indeed. I, much like Walt Whitman, contain multitudes. But that’s a story for another time. What can I do for you?” I fold my hands on the desk. “If you’re here to ask me to sub for a class, I’m afraid I’m not terribly up to speed on my Roman mythology.”
“RomanandGreek,” she corrects, taking a seat in one of the two plastic chairs across from me. “And trust me, I don’t need a theater kid philosophizing about the Byzantine Empire.”
I smirk, leaning back in my chair. “Afraid I’d do a better job?”
