Page 41 of Almost Ravaged

“Ty,no,” I hiss.

His instinct to defend me may be admirable, but I have to earn this man’s respect on my own. And I’m suddenly realizing that I probably shouldn’t have shared so many details about our professor with my friend.

Now it will be abhorrently obvious to Professor Eden that we’re close, which is a conflict of interest if I have access to his grades or have any involvement in evaluating his work.

“Mr. Tremblay.”

The commanding boom of the professor’s tone makes my spine stiffen. My heart takes off at a gallop, as if it could pound right out of my chest.

He just yelled at Ty in front of the entire class. Because of me.

“While I did not intend to be questioned about the nature of my sabbatical this morning,” Professor Eden grits out, “I can assure you, my leave as well as my return to campus were carefully planned and dutifully executed.”

Eyes wide, I stare at Tytus, silently begging him to look at me. But he’s still glaring at the professor.

Desperate to step in and deescalate the situation, I turn around.

Professor Eden doesn’t so much as glance my way.

In an eerily calm tone, with his entire focus still set on Tytus, he continues. “Should you one day find yourself in my situation, in need of a sabbatical, you’d have to be fortunate enough to be a tenured professor at an accredited university. And despite your clear sense of initiative and entitlement, it’s not an easily obtained privilege.” Professor Eden’s expression is one of boredom as he lectures Ty. “You would have to defend a dissertation, obtain your PhD, and then put in the requisite number of years for tenure. You’d need to earn a master’s degree first, of course, and to do that, you’d need a bachelor’s degree, which is the reason you’re sitting in my classroom today, is it not?”

Tytus’s jaw ticks as Professor Eden continues his diatribe.

“If that’s the case, it would behoove you to take your seat and allow me to get on with today’s lesson.”

Ty finally looks at me, his dark irises swirling with unbridled rage.

“Ty. Please,” I mouth, my heart in my throat.

Tytus remains standing—because of course he does.

Goodgrief. This boy.

He has no problem with authority, be it his coaches or other adults he respects. But when he’s backed into a corner…

“He’s not going to treat you like shit and get away with it,” he whispers in response.

Professor Eden rubs his temple, as if he’s developing a headache. “Sit or leave, Mr. Tremblay. Those are the two paths available to you. What you willnotdo is continue to disrupt my class or assist Ms. Davvies in the task I have assigned her.”

With a violent exhale, Tytus hands the papers back to me. Then he bends low to collect his bag.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I’m out.” He straightens and grimaces, his eyes now full of apology. “I’ll wait for you in the courtyard,” he murmurs as he shuffles down the row. Then he’s gone, striding out of the lecture hall with his head bowed and his shoulders slouched low.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying as he disappears. Then, with a steadying breath, I move along the first row, setting a syllabus in front of each wide-eyed, silent student.

Chapter sixteen

Sawyer

As soon as class ended, I bolted.

I bolted, and now I’m waiting, hovering in the hall like a stalker. Or a fangirl. Of which I’m neither. In fact, I’m the farthest thing from being a fan of Professor Mercer Eden after that encounter. Is it possible to loathe a person one has only just met? Does hate at first sight exist?

My best bet is to wait for him to emerge from the lecture hall so I can stealthily follow him to his office.

Though he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry.