“Hey,” I give her a half smile “Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” I ask, only out of politeness, because I can’t focus on anything right now. Her voice fades into the background, muffled like I’m hearing it underwater.
“What?”
“I asked if you were ready for another class with ProfessorI’m a major dick who needs a serious personality transplant. Where are you today? You seem distant, is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I can see she’s itching to press the subject, but she must decide against it, because we spend the rest of the walk to class in total silence.
When we enter the room, there’s a few other students already here. Dwight is, as expected, sat behind his desk, but he doesn’t look up when we enter, and take our usual seats in the centre of the room.
I keep waiting for him to look up and smile at me to reassure me that everything is alright, but he doesn’t, and even after all the other students arrive and class starts, he never looks my way once.
I can tell by his face he’s not himself, he’s agitated and he’s doing everything in his power not to look at me, even from where I’m sitting I can see his jaw clenching, his eyes moving but are distant, like he’s lost in thought. He sets us a task to complete in pairs, and he returns to his desk without another word.
I pull out my phone and send him a text.
Is everything okay?
I watch as his phone lights up beside him on his desk, and watch as he glances at it, taking a few seconds to read it. My heart is in my throat when he picks up his phone and for a split second I think he’s going to reply, but all he does is turn the phone over, so the screen is face down on the desk.
My heart sinks, tears beginning to sting the backs of my eyes.
I got my answer. Hehasbeen avoiding me and Ihavedone something, I just wish I knew what it was.
Once class is finally over, I tell Amy to go on ahead and that I’ll catch her up. I wait until the last student leaves, fiddling about with the contents of my bag before I get up from my seat and make my way over to Dwight.
I make my way over to him, and he doesn’t look up, but I see his shoulders drop as if he knows it’s me. “Have I done something?”
“Why would you say that?” he asks without even bothering to look at me.
“You’ve been avoiding me, ignoring all of my texts and calls.”
“I haven’t been ignoring you, I’ve just been busy,” he dismisses.
“Too busy to reply to me? That’s a bullshit excuse. Tell me what I’ve done,” I demand.
“It’s nothing, Quinn, just leave it.” He says it as though he is bored, too tired and fed up to speak to me, which right now is only adding more fuel to the fire that’s raging within me.
Surely I have a right to know what’s wrong in order to fix whatever it is I’ve supposedly done.
“No, I won’t.” I slam my palms onto the desk, and he jerks at my action.
“I’m not in the mood, Quinn. Anyway, don’t you have men to take your clothes off for?”
His words feel like a punch to my chest and I stumble back. “What did you just say to me?”
His eyes meet mine and I watch as the realisation of what he just said sinks in. “Quinn, I-”
“Is that really what you think of me? Well fuck you!” I back away and turn, heading for the door.
“Quinn, wait!”
I spin back around to find him stalking towards me. “No! Don’t come near me!” He stops dead in his tracks, remorse painted across his face. “You’ve made it pretty clear what you think of me, so I guess there’s not much more to say. Turns out I didn’t really know you at all. Goodbye,Professor.”
I see him flinch slightly as I spit the last word out. Good, itshouldhurt him. Now he knows the feeling.
Has everything that has happened between us over the last couple of months meant nothing?
I spin on my heel and carry on walking, pulling the door open wide and hearing it slam behind me. As I walk down the corridor I swear I hear him call my name, but I just keep walking.
