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Chapter Fifteen
AURORA
Hump day.Middle of the week. Middle of all of my classes. Almost to the fucking weekend. Not that I have anything exciting planned, but sitting in my room reading would be ideal right about now.
Not feeling very social this week.
I’ve gotten a couple of vague texts from Damien, and he didn’t show up to studio on Monday. So, definitely not sure what’s going on with him and if there is even a second date in the mix.
My physics partner, the brute, the asshole who humiliated me, didn’t show up to class either on Monday. Though, I’ll be honest, I’m not upset about that. It was nice to sit there without my anxiety being all over the place.
When I get into Hughes Hall, I head toward my class.
I come to a sudden stop when I see the asshole partner of mine sitting in his seat. His face cracks into a smile as I walk past him to get to my seat.
“Hello, Angel. What are you doing here?”
“Um, maybe I should ask you why you decided to ditch class on Monday,” I snap back. “Better yet, maybe I should ask why you are a complete fucking asshole and did what you did to me.”
“You could, but I don’t have to tell you.” He places an arm around the back of my chair. The fucking sleaze.
I roll my eyes. “Could you please move your arm? You’re in my bubble.”
“Your bubble?” He tilts his head and furrows his brows.
“Yes. My personal space bubble. You have breached it enough the past week.” I shove his arm off my chair and the minute my skin touches his, heat takes over me.
I can feel my cheeks get warm. And I hate that my body betrays everything my mind is thinking.
“You didn’t seem to mind me in your bubble on Friday. In fact, I distinctly remember you begging me to stay very much in that bubble, Angel.”
“Stop calling me Angel,” I say through gritted teeth. And all that does is make him laugh. A sexy, throaty laugh. Damnit.
“Good morning, everyone!” Our professor Tim comes waltzing in. He stops short of his desk, staring at me with his face all scrunched up. “Ms. Dawson, can you please come up here?”
I hop off my chair and head to the front of the class. “Is something wrong, sir?” I ask.
“I’m a little confused as to why you are here.” He places his briefcase on top of the desk.
“I don’t understand. I’m here because I’m supposed to be. This is the time for the class.” I shake my head, my mind reeling. Why is he asking me this?
He side-eyes me. “No, you’re not. I got notice on Monday afternoon that you dropped the class.” He pulls out his laptop and opens it up.
I sputter, “That’s impossible. I didn’t drop this! I need this to graduate. Why would I drop it?” My heart starts to race, a panic sets in.
“Here, this email came through from the registrar.” He shows me his laptop screen, and sure enough, it says I dropped the class.
My fists clench at my sides. “No. I didn’t ask to drop. Why would I drop when I am here? This makes no sense!” My voice is now echoing off the class walls. Everyone is silent, listening to the drama that is my fucking life.
“You are going to have to see your advisor and try to get this fixed. My hands are tied.” He frowns and puts his hands into his pants pockets.
My mouth drops open, wanting to say more, to fight it. But he’s right. I need to go see my advisor. I turn toward my desk and see the smile that is a mile wide on Dekker’s smug fucking face.
God, I want to fucking knock it off of him.
I walk over to my desk and start to pack up my stuff.
The class still silent and watching me.