by Farlow, LK
He keeps his voice low, and his face soft. I want so badly to push past him, to run out of the door and never look back. A fact he uses to his advantage. To anyone else, it probably looks like he’s consoling me, the young nervous freshman.
“You think you regret spreading your legs for him? You’re going to regret spreading those lies even more. Now, take a seat, Emmalyn. Class is starting.”
I gulp, unable to move, to speak, to breathe. It feels like my entire world is collapsing, like the walls of this classroom are closing in on me, like they’re going to bury me alive.
Sterling’s eyes light with something akin to mirth as he regards me, watching the panic, fear, and pain play out across my face like a movie.
“Scurry back to your desk, little mouse.” He takes a threatening step closer to me and, like the coward I am, I whirl around and race back to my seat, hating myself for allowing him to have any kind of power over me.
I bury my face in my hands, knowing I just made a fool of myself, not only to him, but to the entire class, and even worse—in front of my academic advisor.
“Ah, Mr. Abbot,” the professor chortles, as if he found our interaction amusing somehow. “How nice of you to join us.”
“Good to see you, Professor Ellison.” I swear to God, his wicked gray gaze lands on me as he says, “I’m thrilled to be here.”
Sterling crosses the room to stand with the professor. “This is Sterling Abbot, my TA for this class. He will handle the day-to-day basics, and should be your point person for most things.”
You can do this, Emmy. Get through the next hour and then you can figure things out.
“Mr. Abbot, if you will.” Professor Ellison gestures to the podium, stepping out from behind to make room for Sterling.
“To get things started, we’re going to do an activity called Stand Up.”
My heart is pounding so hard that my pulse thunders in my ears, effectively blotting out his voice. Which is a blessing and a curse.
A blessing, because the sound of his deep, gravelly voice both terrifies and enthralls me.
A curse, because I have no clue what’s happening at the moment, other than students seem to be standing at random.
I will myself to calm down. Professor Ellison is here, he won’t allow anything to happen. Breathe.
The panic rushing my system begins to wane.
That is until the professor up and leaves the room.
Without him here, what will Sterling do? At this point, I can only hope he has enough professionalism to spare me his wrath while inside the classroom.
Waves of tittering laughter raise up around me, yanking me from my internal worry.
“Miss Price,” Sterling bites out.
My eyes fly up to his. Judging from the pinched look on his face, this is not the first time he’s called my name. Which means they’re all laughing at me.
“Y-yes?”
“Is there a reason you’re not participating?”
I stare at him, doe-eyed.
“Have your legs suddenly quit working? Or perhaps you think you’re too good to participate?”
“Um.” I try to swallow, but my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls. “If you could just... um... remind me what we’re doing. Please?” My voice wobbles, right along with my pride. Less than ten minutes in his presence and I’m wilting like a daisy beneath the sweltering sun.
Sterling rolls his eyes, looking as pleased as he is perturbed.
“Since you haven’t been paying attention, I’m calling out descriptors. You’re to stand if they pertain to you. Surely you aren’t so dull that none apply?”
My cheeks burn as his words hit their mark. “Right. I’m sor—”
Sterling cuts me off. “Let’s try this again, this time with Princess Price participating.”
Anger wells inside of me so fiercely, it nearly blots out the embarrassment.
“Now that I have everyone’s attention, let’s try this again. But first, please apologize to your classmates for wasting their time, Miss Price.”
“What?” I sputter. He can’t be serious.
“You heard me.” He raps his knuckles against the podium. “Please don’t make me repeat myself.”
Bile rushes up my esophagus, but I force it down. “Fine. I’m sorry for wasting y’all’s time. It was rude, and I will do my best to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Satisfactory,” he murmurs, his soft voice in direct contrast with his hard eyes. “Please stand if any of the following words have any at point applied to you. Once the next is listed, take a seat if it does not also apply.”
Sterling draws out the anticipation, dragging his gaze around the room, before honing in on me. “Stand up if you are a liar.”
A few uneasy titters go up.
“Come on, everyone lies,” he goads, his focus still locked on to me.
I quickly glance around the room; my classmates look as uncomfortable as I feel.
Eventually, a guy toward the back of the room stands. Then a girl to the right of me, followed by several more students.
Maybe he’s not out to get me. Maybe he’s just a hardass in the classroom.
On trembling legs, I join the group standing.
Sterling smirks.
“Stand up if you’ve ever had regrets.”
I remain standing, because who hasn’t had regrets?
“Stand up if you’re selfish.”
I go to sit down, because selfish is definitely not a word I would use to describe myself.
Sterling’s not having it though. “Remain standing, Miss Price.”
“Why?” I whisper, feeling defeated but unwilling to admit it.
Ignoring my question, Sterling addresses the class. “I do not tolerate lies. Of any kind. Not to me, and not to yourself. Keep that in mind before returning to this class on Thursday. Show up ready to be real, or don’t show up at all. Class dismissed.”
In a flurry of motion, we all begin packing away our belongings. Luckily, most of my stuff is already in my bag from my failed escape attempt at the start of class.
I’m nearly to the door when Sterling calls after me. “Miss Price, a word?”
I gulp but turn and head toward him, determined not to show any more weakness to the likes of him. “Yes?”
“I know what you did,” he says for my ears only, “and I intend to make you pay.”
A million replies race through my brain, yet my mouth won’t form around a single word. Instead, I glare while willing myself not to cry.
“That’s right. I know. Now, run along, and if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll play nice.”
Still, I can’t seem to bring myself to speak. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d trust myself not to make a fool of myself. So, I do the only thing I can. I turn around and bolt.
Chapter Eight
Emmy
Stella: Where are you?!
Stella: Emmy... Hello?!
I read over her rapid-fire texts and slink down deeper into my despair. Because in addition to being a spineless coward, I’m also the worst friend ever. I bailed on my lunch plans with Stella in favor of hiding out in the relative safety of our suite.
Though, it’s hard to feel safe anywhere, knowing he’s here, all too eager to take up Rob’s vendetta as his own.
Stella: Mandatory check-in or I swear to God, I will report you missing to campus security!
Guilt over ghosting my friend weighs on me as I text her back.
Me: Sorry. I’m not feeling well.
Not a total lie.
Stella: Want some soup?
Me: Sure, thanks.
I don’t want soup. I don’t want anything, other than to wake up and find this whole day is nothing more than a nightmare.
Only, I know this is real. Of course it is. Why would anything ever go my way? Honestly, you’d think the universe would give me a break after everything, but no. Here it is, knocking me down yet again.
I’m still wall
owing when Stella enters our suite. “Emmy?” she calls, her voice soft.
“You can come in,” I call back, unwilling to leave the cocoon I’ve created beneath my covers.
She steps into my bedroom, thankfully with no soup container in sight. “You look rough, babe.”
I give her a wry laugh. “Thanks.”
“Just calling it like I see it.” Stella shrugs unapologetically before plopping down beside me on my bed. “What’s going on?”
“I’m—”
“Don’t you dare say sick.” She shakes her head, her blonde locks whipping around her face. “I may not know you all that well yet, but I do know a lie when I hear it. You’re not sick. You’re just not. So, what gives?”
How much do I tell her? Will she think differently of me? Will she think I’m a liar? A slut?
A million different outcomes race through my mind as Stella stares expectantly, waiting for my reply.
“It’s just. Um. Some bad things happened back home and coming here was supposed to be my fresh start.” I sniffle as the tears I’ve been holding back all day finally break free. “But someone from home is here and I... I can’t.”
My sniffles give way to chest-heaving sobs.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Stella reaches out as if to hug me, but drops her arms at the last minute, taking my hand in hers instead. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not. I’m not, I’m not.” I draw my knees to my chest, and repeat those same three words over and over, my head shaking side-to-side.
“Emmy, stop it!” Stella shouts. The unexpected sharpness of her tone instantly pauses my breakdown. “There, that’s better. Now, listen. Everyone has a past. Everyone has demons. Everyone, babe. Even the freaking pope. But that doesn’t mean you let them rule you.”
“How?” I whisper, my voice hoarse from crying.
“By dealing with it. Head on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who is this person? Can you avoid him?”
I shake my head. “He’s my TA.”
Stella cringes. “Ooh. Can you talk to the professor? Change classes?”
“The thought of changing crossed my mind. Do you think I could?” A small seed of hope blooms in my chest.
“Log in and check. You should be able to request it through your portal.”
I’m still not ready to leave the comfy warmth of my bed. Luckily, Stella understands my puppy eyes and grabs my laptop for me.
“Thanks,” I murmur, as I pull up my web browser and log in. Except, every time I try and submit a request to change the class, an error message pops up. “Ugh!”
“What’s wrong?” Stella asks, leaning into my space to look at my screen. “Oh. That blows.”
“What do I do?” My earlier panic threatens an unwanted encore.
“Try your advisor?”
“That’s a good idea.”
I exit out of the portal and open my student email.
Professor Ellison,
I am emailing to request a meeting with you about my class schedule. I tried adjusting it via the portal, but keep running into an error message.
Thank you in advance,
Emmy Pierce
“There,” I say, feeling moderately better. “Now all we have to do is wait for him to reply.”
“And pray like hell he accommodates your request,” my roomie unhelpfully adds.
“That, too.” As I move to close my laptop, a whoosh sounds, alerting me to a new email. “He replied!”
“That was fast! What’s it say?”
“That he can see me tomorrow at noon!”
“You know what that means?”
“What?”
“No more panic until you know for sure there’s something to panic over. Okay?”
Slowly, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
Stella grins. “Good. Oh, and it also means you owe me a meal. I tried getting soup, but it looked inedible.”
I can’t help but laugh. “What sounds good?”
Her eyes flare wide. “Babe. I skipped lunch for you. I’d eat just about anything.”
“So, we should go back for the soup?”
“Okay, anything except that.”
“Let’s order a pizza?” I suggest.
“Only if we follow it up with ice cream and a chick flick.”
“Can do.”
The rest of the night is spent stuffing our faces and watching Sierra Burgess Is a Loser. It’s easily the best night I’ve had in a while.
But then sleep comes, and my past sinks its claws into me during my REM cycle.
“Stupid little bitch.” My former best friend Nichole glares at me with nothing but hatred in her cool blue eyes. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
While her cruel, venomous words sting, they’re nothing compared to the betrayal I felt when she took Rob’s side. The way she dropped me like I was nothing to her, after sixteen years of friendship... that almost hurt more than my own mother turning her back on me.
Laughter and jeers follow me down the hall, each one more cutting than the last.
“Ugh, watch out. Wouldn’t want to catch an STD.” Stacie, the cheer squad’s newly minted captain, takes an exaggerated step away from the center of the hallway.
Her boyfriend wraps a protective arm around her and glares at me, as if I can somehow taint his precious little girlfriend by proximity alone.
His best friend, however, has no qualms about getting close to me. “Hey, baby.” The meathead jock steps into my path, crowding me. “Twenty bucks and I’ll let you suck my dick.”
“She’s not worth it,” Aaron, my first love and the boy I thought I’d marry, scoffs. “Pussy’s like parking in a two-car garage. Shit was so loose, I felt like I was fucking a cup of water.”
Tears burn my eyes, and shame paints my cheeks. It doesn’t matter that we never even made it past second base. I’m now the school slut, and it’s everyone’s word against mine.
Unwilling to let them see my pain, I shoulder past them and walk away with my head held high. As soon as I turn the corner, I let the mask drop, breaking into a dead sprint toward the bathroom. Once I’m safely inside, I break, letting my tears fall as my heart breaks all over again.
* * *
The next morning dawns overcast and misty—perfectly somber to match my mood.
I wake up early enough to wash and dry my hair. I want to make a good impression on Professor Ellison, which I guess is kind of stupid after trying to flee his class yesterday. He probably thinks I’m some immature brat here on Daddy’s dime.
Still, I take the time to dress nicely, throwing on a simple cotton dress that straddles the line between professional and relaxed.
I make it through two hours of class—one of history and one of science.
Thankfully, they’re both easy days. We go over the syllabus in both classes, do a few ice breakers, and in science, we also tour the department.
I send up a small prayer of thanks, because God knows my mind is preoccupied.
All I can think of is meeting with Professor Ellison. If he’s not able to help me, I truly don’t know what I’ll do.
I’d like to say I’m strong enough to withstand whatever Sterling may have up his sleeve, but the truth is, I’m really just... not.
I only have minutes to make it to Professor Ellison’s office after my science class ends. My power walk turns to a full-on sprint when I realize I’m cutting it close, and I manage to make it to his office at twelve on the dot.
A shiver works its way through me as I knock. Shuffling sounds from behind the door, and then it swings open, revealing the last person I wanted or expected to see.
He regards me disinterestedly before his lip curls into a sneer. “Are you coming in or not? My time is valuable, Miss Price.”
“Um.” I dart my eyes around the room, looking for Professor Ellison. Surely he’s around here somewhere. Why would he set up a meeting and not show?
“Um,” he mocks in a high-pitched t
one. “Drop the act. Either come in or leave.”
“I... I’m supposed to have a meeting with Professor Ellison.”
“Which he so kindly left in my capable hands.”
I gulp. I’m pretty sure the only things his hands are capable of right now is strangling me.
“Stop wasting my time.” Sterling’s voice is a low growl that sends flutters of fear through my belly.
“Are you going to let me in?” I ask, sounding one-hundred percent braver than I feel.
Smirking, he steps back a fraction of an inch. If I want into that office, I’m going to have to press myself through the microscopic opening between him and the door.
Our chests brush as I cross the threshold. The hint of contact between us sends shivers down my spine.
Aware of his effect on me, Sterling laughs as he pulls the door closed behind us.
“To what do I owe the displeasure of this visit, Miss Price?”
He remains standing, and so do I. He’s already taller than me, I’m not about to give him an ounce of additional power over me.
“I think you know.” My voice is flimsy, even to my own ears, but I pretend not to notice.
He nods thoughtfully. “I’m sure I do, but I think I want to hear you say it.”
Squaring my shoulders, I force my gaze up to his. “I would like to be transferred into a different section.”
Sterling rubs his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “That’s too bad.”
“Why?” I ask, even though the sinking feeling in my gut says I already know.
He’s not going to make this easy for me. It wouldn’t surprise me for him to outright refuse me, if only out of spite.
“All of the other classes are full.”
“All of them?” I ask in disbelief.
A dark grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Every. Single. One.”
“Then I’ll drop the class!” I shout, my voice far too loud for the small space.
He advances toward me, boxing me back until he has me caged against the wall. My chest expands and contracts rapidly. His uninvited nearness makes my pulse go haywire.
“Sure.” He leans his right forearm against the wall, dipping his face toward mine, so we’re eye to eye. “You could, but I wouldn’t advise it.”
