Through the noise and the chaos, I scan the room for Lupe but can’t find her. She probably already made it out, so without overthinking it, I bolt for the exit.
Anicegirl would have waited for Gabriel. But I’ve said it before, I’m not nearly as nice as everyone thinks.
When I step out into the warm night air, I spin around frantically, trying to find a red sequined dress, when two hands grab my shoulders and I find Lupe staring back at me with a furrowed brow.
“God, Ame, I thought you hadn’t gotten out. I was already outside when the alarm went off, and they wouldn’t let anyone back in,” she says, pulling me into a hug.
I breathe out when I catch the familiar scent of her lily of the valley perfume. Before I can fully pull myself together, I catch a flash out of the corner of my eye, a black shirt and strands of dark hair disappearing around the corner of the street.
Professor Vaughn?
“False alarm, everyone,” one of the bouncers calls out.
“Excuse me, is this Diana’s party?” a voice asks, and every hair on my arms stands up.
A blond man in an immaculate white shirt and tailored slacks is standing just behind Lupe. He has the air of someone who matters, but there’s something in his eyes that unsettles me.
“Yes,” I answer, with less than half my usual enthusiasm.
I glance at Lupe, who clearly doesn’t feel the same unease I do, as she extends a hand toward the stranger and introduces herself.
“Guadalupe Sanchez.Encantada.”
“Aleksandr Rastovski,” he replies, a slow smile spreading across his face.
There’s something off about this man, but before I can pin down what, my twin pulls me back into the club and the music swallows every thought whole.
My hand wraps around the thermos of hot chocolate as I wait for everyone to filter into the classroom.
We have our first algebra test, and I’ve always liked arriving early. It gives me a few quiet minutes to run through anything I feel like I haven’t fully locked down.
My eyes are fixed on an equation when I feel his presence in the room.
Because you can’t not feel it. It’s like he applies some sort of formula to the atoms in the air.
Two girls walk in behind him and I hear them giggle the moment they spot Professor Vaughn at the podium. Honestly, it’s a pretty normal reaction, given that this man could model for the math department. He’d definitely draw in a certaindemographic with the way he looks, all nerdy intensity wrapped in someone who clearly hits the gym five times a week, with that mysterious edge that promises nothing but trouble.
I almost laugh at the description my own brain just came up with and go back to scanning the results of the equation, when I catch a scent… Musk, mint, and something clean, like fresh laundry. It’s the kind of smell that feels like comfort. I like it.
“I expect all of that material to disappear from your desk in the next twenty seconds, Miss Sanchez.”
First, I don’t like his smell anymore.
Second, I look up at him with what I’m sure is mild irritation because the implication in his voice isn’t lost on me. I have never cheated in my life, and I’m not about to start on a subject I actually enjoy.
Too bad it’s taught by Voldemort.
I close my notebooks with slightly too much drama and stuff them into my backpack, eyes fixed on his face the whole time.
Something tightens in his jaw, and his gaze does this thing I can’t quite name. Annoyance? The desire to strangle me? The urge to fail me on principle?
Without looking away from me, he sets the exam sheet on my desk before moving on through the room, dropping a copy in front of each student. Murmurs break out behind me almost immediately, and from what I can piece together, we’ve all gotten different versions.
Good. Because if anyone behind me decides to take a peek, it won’t do them any favors, and that genuinely puts me at ease. The last thing I need is to get tangled up in someone else’s academic dishonesty in my first month of college.
Ok, Amalia!Vamos, use that beautiful brain of yours!
The questions are challenging for a first test, but I work through everything in under twenty minutes.
