And why? Because kindness felt like a trap? Because I’m so used to danger, I can’t bear to live without it?
Or just so I can sayImade that choice?
“Right!” Bastian claps his hands.
Someone lets out a nervous titter from the back of the class. I’m guessing they’re one of the students who got their midterm essay back with as much red pen as I did.
Bastian was…unkind, to put it mildly.
Professional, polite, butfuckingunkind.
“Take the next few minutes to reflect on a time when you engaged in self-sabotaging behavior. Think of any instance where you made a choice you knew would hurt you. What was your reasoning, if any? What did you gain from it? What did it cost?”
Someone raises their hand. “Do we have to share this with the class?”
“No.” For a moment, Bastian is the epitome of a benevolent professor. “This is purely for your own reflection. Discuss your insights with a trusted peer in your own time.”
The irony of him talking about ‘trust’ while standing at the front of a classroom he’s used as a hunting ground is not lost on me.
Students pull out notebooks or bow their heads over their laptops. The hush of reluctant self-examination fills the room as our professor takes out his phone.
Kai is staring at Bastian like he suspects our professor has bodies in his basement—he just needs to prove it.
I nudge his thigh with my knee. “You okay?”
He blinks, eyes widening as they slowly focus on me. “Yeah. Fine.”
He’s not fine, but I don’t know how to help him when he won’t speak to me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I slide it out, checking it stealthily under the desk.
When I see a notification from VibeFeed, my stomach flips over.
It’s from the group chat Bastian set up the day after Halloween.
Me, Bastian, Kai.
@inherentvice
Dinner tonight?
I know a place in Ashwood Crossing.
I stare at the message. Bastian’s been shockingly patient these past two weeks. He invites us, we decline, and he accepts it without pushing.
I type out a reply before I can overthink it.
@bssweetgirl
Can’t tonight.
Study group.
It’s not entirely a lie. I do have a study group. It’s just not the reason I’m saying no.
The reason I’m saying no is that every time Kai and I fuck, I think about Bastian. His hands. His mouth. The things he did and said in that mausoleum that turned my world—and Kai’s—upside down.
I have to figure out how to stop feeling guilty. The fact Kai won’t even acknowledge that any of it happened isn’t helping.
