Page 10 of The KING Review

you mean like a color check system? Green for good, that kind of thing?

Me:

Yes. But I prefer something more personalized.

Don’t:

personalized how?

I smirk as I type my next message, knowing she’s going to latch onto what I say.

Me:

You seem like a ritualistic person.

Don’t:

I don’t know what to say to that

Me:

That must be a first.

Don’t:

make your point, doctor king

Christ. I’m smiling like a damn teenager with a crush. I feel like I teenager with a crush. Teenager, I am not, but crush… fuck, I have a crush on my colleague’s little sister. One of my students. I’m so screwed, and yet I still start typing my response.

Me:

You seem like the kind of woman who likes to celebrate little wins. So, what do you treat yourself to for a small victory? You know… You pass a test, you achieve a goal, or something goes right, just the way you want it.

She doesn’t respond for a few moments.

I’m not worried I got it wrong—I know I didn’t—but for a second, I think maybe I overstepped. Apprehension sinks in my gut.

Did I read her too well? Does she not want me to be able to discern these things about her so easily? Should I pretend to have a harder time working her out?

Marie’s voice creeps up over my shoulder. The words sneak in and stab me.

Manipulative. Untrustworthy. Deceptive.

I jolt when my phone buzzes in my hand, snapping me out of the spiral.

Don’t:

okay, look, you’re not allowed to laugh at me for this

I get a big bag of lemon drops because they’re my favorite candy, and I really like them

but I deliberately don’t keep them in my place because then I’ll eat them outside of a reward

and then they’re like… not a special treat anymore, yknow?

so I literally go out and buy them

I blink down at my phone. Five messages in the space of about a minute. I can hear my heart in my ears.