Anything but leaving me to find out in a room full of people.
Why am I even sad about this?
Inhaling and exhaling through my nose, I have to swallow several times before the muscles in my throat relax. I’m not quite able to blink back the tears, so as casually as I can manage, I reach up and rub underneath both eyes before I slump down in my seat, pretending to try and get comfortable.
No. This is fine. This is good, actually.
Perfect, really.
Now I never have to see him again.
It’s exactly what I want.
Chapter 16
Emery
The dull throb that started behind my left eye has expanded and now pounds in the right side of my head. Jamming my fingers into my eyes, I try to relieve the pain by applying pressure, but all that does is make my vision sparkly when I reopen my eyes.
I’m out of water, and the pain meds I took this morning should still be working. Maybe it’s the light? Either way, I think I am done for the rest of the day.
I’ve managed to stay mostly upright for the class, finding Justin pretty easy to listen to, even though his voice isn’t as deep or as fascinating. But now, I’m practically lying horizontal, using the back of the chair to support my head and squinting to focus on my laptop screen.
Watching Will’s study group’s shared notes document in real time is pretty fucking cool, and I’d be way more appreciative if I could make the brightness on my screen—and the screen Justin is controlling—go even darker.
Someone must have prepped the shared file with the slides before the class started. There are five different colored cursors on the screen, typing, highlighting, adding comments that turn into conversation threads—which is mostly where I find myself, clarifying questions and fixing typos.
I’m not one-hundred-percent sure that’s what I’m supposed to be doing, but I haven’t had anyone correct me about it yet. If it’s an issue, they can tell me about it at tomorrow’s study group.
My phone vibrates on my desk.
Will:You okay?
Me:I’m fading. I think it’s the lights. Will be going back to my dorm after this.
My message is set to read straight away. No bubble reappears, so I drop the phone and try to concentrate for the last few minutes of the class.
I startle when a hand touches my shoulder, heart wanting to jump in my chest, but I get hit with a wave of nausea instead. Swallowing over and over, I try to keep my composure as I glance at my shoulder.
Derek’s sunglasses. I’d left them sitting on my desk.
Closing my fingers around the folded-up glasses, I peek up at Will. He offers me a warm smile, even if there is a pinch of worry, before sitting back in his seat and refocusing on his laptop.
My mind is spinning a million miles a second at his gesture, but the rest of me feels too crappy to second-guess anything as I slip the glasses on, and holy heck, does that help. Not enough to make the already-formed headache dive off a cliff, but the sharp, stabbing pains in my eyes and temples ease up.
With a little of the tension eased from my body, I pick up my phone and text Will.
Me:Thanks.
Will:All good. I’ll walk you back to your dorm. Don’t worry about the notes. We can go over them tomorrow or whenever you are feeling up to it.
I send back a thumbs-up and close my eyes behind the shades for the rest of the class. It’s only a few minutes—not enough time for me to actually drift off—but it’s enough of a rest to try and get the nausea under control.
Definitely going to pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Something tickles my upper arm, and I reach to swat it away, but there is a quiet huff of male laughter.
“Ems, you need to wake up. Class is over.”
