Page 2 of Shadowface

My head spins at the words in front of me. Failure is not an option since I’m here on a scholarship I barely earned. Failure will get me kicked out.

Why did I sign up for this class for the first semester? I must derive pleasure from torturing myself.

There are over two hundred students in this class, and half are vying to major in this program since psychology is what this school is known for. It has the best program in the country. It was the part of my father’s life he never brought me into, until now.

“What emotion do these words invoke in you?” she asks the room, and I swear… I swear her eyes land right on me.

I get it, people usually stare. My hair draws attention, especially in a sea of mediocrity. Few people can say their hair is as naturally white as snow. It’s so clear, it crystallizes under the light. Describing it as blonde doesn’t do it justice. My father used to tell me I was a vision of an angel. My hair was a gift, my birthright, and I should be proud of it because I got it from my grandmother.

“It makes me feel all tingly inside,” someone yells and chuckles.

Dr. Garcia pauses as if she wants to retort, then her lips merely twitch into a small smile. “Clever. I hope we can keep up that level of humor throughout the semester. Although, thin jokes will hardly help you pass this course.”

The room collectively chuckles.

“Scared,” someone else yells out.

Her eyes light up. “Ah, yes. Fear. That is a very natural emotion to failure. Show of hands; how many of you are scared right now?”

At least half the class puts their hands up, me included. Although, that’s not exactly how I would describe how I feel at this moment.

Feelings aren’t something that comes naturally to me.

She scans the room, then clicks something in her hand and a new slide pops up on the wall of screens behind her.

“Fear,” she says, waving her hands theatrically, striding to the center of the stage. “Fear is instinctive, fear is powerful. Fear can both protect you and paralyze you, motivate and haunt you.” The note in her voice gives me pause. “Fear is what we will primarily focus on throughout this class. Your response to fear will either lift you up to extraordinary heights or cause your demise. I find fear the most…fascinating of all human emotions.”

Fear… What about anger and loathing?

My father became the world’s leading expert on fear. Fear, in the context of the class textbook, belonged to him.

She sighs, and for a moment, she finally shows her age as her fingers pinch her nose. “Indeed, some of you will barely pass this class, as you will find out after your first major paper. This is to weed you out, as we only want the brightest minds in our program. I will not be reviewing the syllabus with you—assuming since you’re in this school, you can read—but I would like to point out we expect short weekly reflections, which are due on Fridays.”

The class groans, and Dr. Garcia waves her hand like she couldn’t be bothered to hear it.

“I’d also like to introduce you to your TA for the class, Lincoln Kennedy. Lincoln will be grading everything this semester and will be holding office hours on class days: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This class is incredibly lucky to have Lincoln. He’s one of my PhD students and knows this material very well—after all, he helped me write the textbook. I’ll encourage you to take up any grievances with Lincoln before you come to me.”

My eyes drift to a guy with dark hair sitting in the front. I can only glimpse the side of his head, but he keeps a tight look on his face. Glasses so thick, I wonder if he isn’t completely blind.

L. Kennedy.

Lincoln Kennedy.

A flash of recognition hits me before he turns his head back toward the front of the class. But it’s enough of a view that my stomach squeezes so tight and shoots right to my core.

“Wow, look at Professor Hottie,” Dani teases in an obnoxious whisper. “He looks too young to have written the damn textbook.”

I squint to get a better look. His name precedes him, as I merely stare at an entity in my mind. My father talked about him so much, but I never had the pleasure of meeting him.

He sits like a stone, not budging in the first row, even though the entire room is looking at him.

Jet-black hair, skin a pale glow. He’s wearing all black, a turtleneck, and has a gothic look to him. An aura of arrogance, as if he is too smart to be bothered to engage with any of us in this class. A creepy kind of sexy that words can’t describe.

Dani, of course, has already googled him.

“He finished his degree at nineteen and jumped right into his master’s. He’s only twenty-five and is about to finish his PhD.” Dani looks at me carefully. “So, do you know him?”

The back of my teeth grind together. “Why would you ask that?”