Two-Faced

by Melissa Pearl

  “Next time, I’m gonna blame you and science nerd. There’s no way I’m getting another verbal lashing from that asshole. No more screw-ups. You got it?”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly our fault.” The guy’s bravado withered under the coach’s penetrating glare. Clearing his throat, he stretched his neck and nodded.

  Coach Bleekman’s eyes glittered. “I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure you’re wearing your uniform.”

  He nodded as my mouth dropped open. That guy was a player? But he was half the size of his teammates. He’d get squished like a grape on the court.

  “And don’t forget to swing by the doctor on the way out. He’s got a little something for ya.” The coach winked.

  The guy’s shoulders slumped and I saw his profile wince. The coach didn’t have a response for his obvious reluctance and I suddenly realized I’d been watching the entire conversation unmasked. Shoving them back into place, I saw the student give the coach a friendly smile and nod before spinning toward the door.

  I had to jump away and run down the hallway so I wouldn’t be spotted. Scuttling into the shadows, I tried to slow my breathing and not sound like a puffing dinosaur as he slumped past me, muttering under his breath.

  “Tyson!”

  I flinched at the loud voice from the end of the corridor and noticed the student do the same. He stood on the spot and forced a smile to the man bustling toward him. I couldn’t see who it was and was too afraid to peek my head out for a look. I’d be spotted for sure.

  “Here you go, son.” A pudgy hand held out a thin white sheet of A5 paper.

  The forced smile stayed on Tyson’s face, but as the mask fell away, I saw his lips curve into a frown. He took the paper and mumbled his thanks.

  “That’s a boy. There’s enough for two months there, but if you find yourself running low, just come back and see me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The pudgy hand slapped Tyson’s shoulder and trotted off. Tyson eyed the paper in his hand, sighing loudly as he ran his fingers through his fine hair. With a short huff and a headshake, he threw his shoulder into the door and stepped out into the sunlight.

  I was inclined to follow him, but Coach Bleekman strode out of his office and I had to duck into hiding again. I eyed him carefully as he stared at the door. Pulling away the layers, I spotted his dark glare again. It was pretty damn intimidating. I was summoning the courage to pull away more and see what I could find, but he turned toward the locker rooms before I had a chance.

  Leaning against the alcove wall, I closed my eyes and placed my hand over my chest. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, bouncing against the palm of my hand. Memories of Liam’s scheming skipped through my mind. Did I seriously want to get involved in something like that again?

  Biting my lower lip, I pushed off the wall and snuck out the door, glancing over my shoulder one last time. The corridor was empty. I squinted against the bright sunlight as I stepped outside. Hunting for my shades, I pulled them out of my bag and slid them on.

  With a heavy sigh, I crossed my arms and ambled back toward my dorm.

  My phone bleeped and I pulled it out to read a text from Eric.

  Hey girl next door. You free for dinner?

  I ran my thumb over the screen, knowing my reply should be, of course. Instead, I typed:

  Not tonight. Got a ton of studying. See you tomorrow?? Xxx

  I didn’t think I could fake my way through a meal and I wasn’t ready to tell him what I’d seen. I wasn’t sure why. I should have let him in, but with everything so stilted between us, I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

  No, if I pursued this, I had to do it on my own.

  14

  Eric

  It was so unlike Caity to refuse dinner with me, especially two nights in a row. I was totally taken aback by both her rejection texts, and decided not to bother sending one at all the next day. It felt so wrong to just let it go; part of me wanted to wait outside her dorm room and intercept her, but maybe she wanted to be left alone.

  A deep frown scored my features.

  She’d always let me in before, so why was she pulling away from me now?

  The deep-seated fear in my belly rumbled and spluttered. Was she going to leave me, too? Part of me wanted to leave her first...deny myself the anguish of rejection, but then I’d be without Caity.

  I gripped the assignment in my hand as my heart shuddered.

  Not being her boyfriend would be damn depressing.

  I’d miss her like crazy—that smile of hers, those blue eyes that always made me think of the ocean, the way she looked at me, the feel of her hand in mine, the touch of her lips on my skin.

  I swallowed, imagining living without it. I hadn’t seen her since Sunday. Three days without Caity had me feeling parched; what the hell would a lifetime do to me?

  The paper in my hand began to crinkle and rip. Pausing outside the Psychology building, I sniffed in a quick breath. I had to pull myself together. Professor Hoffman always looked at people with such curious compassion that it was easy to fold in front of him and spill it all. As much as I liked the guy, I didn’t want to let him in on my relationship woes.

  Letting the door swing shut behind me, I bustled past the students who were leaving for the day. The building would be empty in about a minute flat. People never stuck around after a late-afternoon lecture. I turned left and took the stairs up to Prof. H’s office. He told me to swing by sometime before five to drop off my assignment.

  I glanced at my watched…five-sixteen p.m. I was running late.

  I winced and tried to hurry my steps. I had been functioning at a snail’s pace all day. Everything felt like a slog that week. My mind wouldn’t stop buzzing with doubts and questions. Going to Connor’s practice on Monday had been good. Everything had appeared normal. Meeting Tiffany, although slightly awkward, had been interesting. I’d walked with her all the way to my next class and we’d parted with a friendly goodbye. I doubted I’d see her again, but she’d been a nice distraction. But then Caity had gone and rejected my dinner invitation...two days running...and my light mood had been dragged back to where it had been hanging out all weekend.

  Tapping lightly on the professor’s door, I pushed it with my finger and softly called out, “Hello?”

  The door eased open to reveal an empty office desk. I was too late.

  “Crap,” I mumbled, dragging a hand through my hair. I’d wanted to ask the professor about the follow-up assignment. I wanted to get started on it and needed to know if we had to stick with the same topic or if we could go on a slightly different tangent. It was the first class in my life that I’d wanted to totally ace and if I could add a little punch to my assignment with some new ideas...well, I’d give it a try.

  Dropping the assignment onto his desk with a sigh, I turned to leave when I heard a noise from the room next door. It was a resource room where the professor kept all his books and files. I’d watched him stride in there before to dig out some old paper written by a past student that was a really good example of whatever he was chatting to me about.

  I assumed he was in there, so I walked toward the door and peeked inside.

  I froze.

  I couldn’t help it.

  The professor had his pants around his ankles and was standing behind a girl with pale blonde hair. Her white dress was pushed up to her waist, while her shoulder strap hung down around her elbows.

  “Oh, Professor,” she moaned as she gripped the table with her long fingers. Her head fell forward as she panted, her hair shifting to reveal a butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder.

  The professor grunted as he drove into her.

  My eyes bulged as I clenched the doorknob. I didn’t make a noise, thank God. If I’d been seen, I would have died of humiliation. I couldn’t seem to move though, either. I was in complete shock.

  The woman let out another cry of pleasure, her moans of ecstasy growing louder as the professor finished his business. Resting
his forehead against the nape of her neck, he kissed her shoulder and chuckled, “That ought to get you an A+.”

  I flinched, my nose wrinkling in disgust. Finally my legs unstuck and I stepped back from the door, feeling nauseous as I crept from the room.

  No wonder Caity felt uncomfortable around him. She must have seen something on his unmasked face that gave away the fact he was screwing students.

  I fumbled down the stairs, my disquiet growing with each step. I tried to let logic remind me that whomever he’d been banging in his resource room was of a consenting age and sounded like she was having a pretty good time. But she was obviously a student or he wouldn’t have made that A+ comment, right? It didn’t matter how old she was, he shouldn’t be having sex with his students.

  Bursting out of the building, I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling a black cloud descend over me as I stalked toward Caity’s dorm. I had to find her. I had to tell her what I’d just seen.

  I needed to disinfect my eyes, too.

  What the hell, Professor Hoffman! Why? Why’d you have to be a slime ball, too?

  I wanted to kick and curse. I wanted to punch the living shit out of the tree I was walking past. The temptation to stop and hack away at it ’til my knuckles bled was nearly overpowering. I shoved my hands even further into my pockets, remembering what Gramps had taught me.

  What I should be doing right now is going for a run or a surf... something energetic to calm my nerves and settle my pounding emotions. Maybe I should skip finding Caity and do that instead. I could pop by and see her after I got back.

  Deciding that was best, I took a right and bypassed Caity’s dorm to head toward my own when I spotted her. Stopping in my tracks, my entire body pinged tight as I took in the scene. She was standing on the grass, hugging her binder to her chest as she chatted with some guy. I’d never seen him before. He was her height, with short, shaggy brown hair and an angular face.

  She was grinning at him as she spoke. In fact, it almost looked like she was flirting.

  My insides bubbled before I could stop them; anger bred from my earlier fears sparked through me as I veered off-course and strode toward my girlfriend and some douche bag.

  15

  Caitlyn

  I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw Tyson stride into my Life Sciences class. I knew he’d seemed familiar. I nearly jumped out of my chair when I saw him slink into one of my classes and take a seat at the back of the room. It was so hard trying to concentrate on Professor Whelan’s lecture. I kept stealing glances at him over my shoulder.

  My mind scurried with questions I wanted to ask him; things I knew I couldn’t just come out and say. I had to work him first, read him properly and slowly eke the information out of him. Like, did he really play for Coach Bleekman? And what was the big screw-up all about? And...

  I frowned.

  I was sure the Bruins were out of town, so why was Tyson there? Wasn’t he supposed to go with them?

  I tried reading him a couple of times throughout class, but he was sitting in the wrong place and it would have looked way too obvious if I turned and stared at him like I wanted to.

  As class broke up, I snatched my stuff, haphazardly throwing my bag onto my shoulder as I ran out after him. I whacked my hip on the corner of a desk, eliciting a few snickers from those around me, but I ignored the pain and kept on running.

  “Hey! Hey, wait.” I called after Tyson once we got outside.

  He turned to me with a frown and kept walking.

  “Wait up.” I caught up with him, forcing him to slow to a stop.

  He looked at me then raised his eyebrows at my no-doubt stupid expression. I chuckled and dropped my gaze to the ground for a second, wanting to realign my features and gather my thoughts.

  “I’m Caity.” I stuck out my hand.

  He looked at it for a moment before reluctantly taking it. “Hi. I’m Tyson.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I grinned.

  He was confused by my friendly approach and no doubt misread it as flirting.

  “So, um, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

  “Why?” He gripped his bag strap, his dark eyebrows bunching together.

  “Well, I...” I let out a breathy laugh, feeling like a fool. I should have put more thought into this instead of just rushing after him. An idea hit me as I scrambled for words. I looked up. “I’m just...struggling with this class and you seem kind of switched on. Like during lectures, you seem focused and I was wondering if you did any tutoring.”

  Crap, that was so lame!

  Even he could see it was pathetic, because it was a total lie. He didn’t seem focused in class at all. In fact, he was always twitchy. That was probably why I picked up on it so quickly at the basketball practice on Monday. I recognized that twitch, because I’d been watching it since the beginning of October.

  “Look, um...Caity, you seem like a nice girl and everything, but I’m really not into...I mean you’re pretty and everything, but...”

  My eyes rounded. “Oh, no, I’m just…sorry. I have a boyfriend, but I’m...he’s not taking these classes and I need some help and I don’t really want to ask any uppity, smart kids. I just want to work with someone who is more at my level.”

  “I thought you just said I was focused and you wanted me to tutor you?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “I know.” I winced. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what I’m saying. I guess...”

  He let out a small sigh, his face softening with a kind smile. “I get it. I know school can be hard and I don’t like feeling stupid, either.”

  I smiled, charmed by the sweet expression on his face. I couldn’t tell if I was looking at his masked face or not as I tried to peel back and forth a layer, but it was the same. I went a layer deeper, peeling back more and saw his twitchy side again. His eyes jerked to the side, self-loathing evident in his pinched expression. The guy had major self-esteem issues and I wanted to know why.

  “I just don’t think I’d be a very good study partner, sorry,” he mumbled.

  “That’s okay. I thought it was at least worth asking...and if you ever change your mind.”

  “I’ll let you know.” He chuckled, but it did nothing to inflate me. I thought study would be a good way in with him, but obviously not. At least I’d made a connection, but it was hardly a good one.

  I tried to make my smile bright and carefree, hiding my disappointment. I was hoping Tyson would be an easy in.

  His lips curled up at the edges. “Hey, listen, if you do change your mind over the whole uppity, smart kids thing. I do know of a study—”

  “Caity!” Eric’s loud voice interrupted Tyson. I spun around to face him and my lips parted. My raging bull of a boyfriend stormed toward us, his eyes zoned in on Tyson as if my classmate was about to bite me with his fangs or something.

  “Eric, hey.” I wanted to smile and greet him warmly, but I couldn’t.

  He came up next to me, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “Hey.” His greeting was terse.

  “So, this is Tyson.” I pointed at the guy whose jitters had scuttled away to be replaced with a low-lying fear.

  “Hi.” He nodded at Eric then gave me a weird look before hitching his bag higher onto his shoulder and walking off.

  I blinked slowly, trying to rein in the maelstrom swirling in my stomach. He was about to tell me something...possibly something important and my stupid-ass boyfriend had just interrupted him.

  “What is your problem?” I flicked Eric’s arm off my shoulder and looked up at him.

  “Who was that guy?”

  “He’s in my Life Sciences class.”

  “And why were you talking to him?”

  “Because he’s in my Life Sciences class!” I threw my arms wide. “I was asking for help on our next assignment.” Okay, that wasn’t the total truth, but it was all I felt like telling Eric. With anger frothing all over him, I was hardly about to launch into the fact
that I was trying to use Tyson to get information on Coach Bleekman and the whole drug operation. I knew the coach was involved somehow and Tyson was bound to give me something. Tyson felt like an easy in. At least, I hoped he would be.

  I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Eric, we were just talking.”

  “It didn’t look like just talking,” he mumbled.

  I shot him an incredulous look. “Since when have you been the jealous boyfriend type?”

  “Since I walked around the corner and saw my girlfriend flirting with some guy I’ve never met before.”

  “We weren’t flirting! I’m allowed to talk to other guys, Eric.” I cut off his name with a sharp sound that gave away just how riled I felt. It was his fault! His sparks of anger were flying off him and landing on me. It took a lot for me to get fired up and I always hated myself after it.

  Not wanting to say anything I might regret, I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I’m sorry if it appeared that way. I would never cheat on you.”

  He huffed and looked over my head, his jaw working. Something else was bothering him. His reaction to my chat with Tyson was way over the top.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” He ran a hand through his hair and opened his mouth to say something.

  I looked at him expectantly, waiting for the truth to follow, but it didn’t. He closed his mouth with a tight shake of his head. “I’m gonna go for a surf.” He glanced down at me and I knew he was thinking that he should ask me, but I could see he didn’t want to.

  I stepped back from him and pushed a smile over my lips. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded, looking sad and lost for a second. Not wanting him to walk away on such a sour note, I quickly grabbed his arm and planted a kiss on his lips.