Page 25 of Undone
Goddamn it.
I have to stifle my reaction so that it isn’t audible, gritting down on my tongue as I stand next to Dr. Cipher. He’s an asshole of a professor, but he teaches almost all the introductory-level classes, so I didn’t have much of a choice in which one I assisted.
Freshman level.
So why the hell is she here?
Lily was never accomplished at math. When we were younger it was difficult for her to focus on anything that wasn’t Van Gogh. But she managed to scrape by—and a lot of that was thanks to me.
I want to ask her just as much as I want to ignore her entirely, pretend we’re not stuck in this room together twice a week now.
Dr. Cipher goes over the syllabus quickly enough that it overwhelms everyone, as usual, but I keep my gaze focused on Lily—watching her try to follow, her sharp brow furrowing, lip slowly pushing outward in a pout. The same face she always makes when she doesn’t understand.
It has the same effect on me now as it did years ago, which makes me fucking nauseous.
After what feels like an entire month but is only a twenty-minute shortened class for the first day, Dr. Cipher lets everyone go, asking all his TAs to stay in case anyone asks questions before he darts out.
I pack up immediately, shoving my bag onto my shoulder, before Kimberly—the only other TA for the class that I’m at all familiar with—stops me.
“All of us, Toren.”
I roll my eyes. “There’re three of us. We don’t all need to stay.” Still, I drop my bag back and crack my neck. “Whatever. You know no one’s going to ask me anything anyway.”
“Hmm. Must be that welcoming smile you’re so known for, mi cielo.”
Rolling my eyes again, I step over to where she’s already pointing.
Kimberly was one of the only people in my class last semester to approach me. She’d hit on me a few times, rather openly, which I didn’t mind. She’s gorgeous, brown eyes, thick black hair, voluptuous body. But I’m fucked in the head and hung up on something I’ll never have again. Something I’ve never been able to move on from.
She’s not wrong though. I am unapproachable, which means most of the freshmen are too scared to ask me questions and end up waiting in line for the others. Even if they spend that time waiting staring at me.
So when I hear the click of heels, I know who it is without looking up. The only person in this room willing to get in my space.
“Toren?”
My mouth starts to open, to tell her to pick literally anyone else, but I see Kim’s cutting glare from across the room.
I shake my head and clench my jaw, trying to make the words sound like they’re not being strangled out of me. “Did you have a question?”
She nods, looking down at the syllabus. Her hair looks so soft, glowing under the fluorescent lights, casting a halo over her head. Every part of her . . . the pinch of her brow, her lip between her teeth, the way her head is tilted just slightly to the side; it’s all an endless tangle of memories I’m too scared to unravel. “Listen, I think we should talk—”
I can’t do this. I step closer to her, eyes flaring as I sharply whisper. “Switch classes, Lily. I’m not doing this.”
She steps back, looking up at me and somehow down on me at the same time, nose in the air, irritated. “You don’t own me,” she snaps, with more heat than I was expecting. “I’m allowed to be wherever I want. You go be in another class if you can’t stand being around me twice a week.”
There’s a thrilling zing up my spine, a little heated refresher of what a riled-up Lily LaBlanc looks like, and I hate how easily my body starts to respond.
Shut it down. Shut it down—
Before I can say another word, she whips around on her heels and heads for the stairs, taking them quickly to escape me.
I watch her the entire time, half in pain, half frustrated.
• • •
A full night of restless sleep doesn’t make the frustration any better—if anything it only worsens.
Having Lily so close and knowing nothing about her has turned me into an insane stalker at this point, though I don’t have to put in much effort. Like a cosmic punishment, red hair appears almost anywhere I go.
