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CHAPTER

SEVENTY-ONE

REMI

“You ruined my paper,” I tell him as I meet him at the bottom of the stairwell, my freshly printed paper in hand, still warm from Sloane’s printer. I had to run to the bathroom while I was up there, and I taste the mouthwash on my tongue now as I stare at him.

He smiles at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and drawing me close. “I made it better, baby, don’t lie.”

We start to walk along the brick pathway to the pedestrian crossing. I’m already going to be late to class, but at least I’ve got my paper written.

And this time, at least it’s fucking done right.

I shove it against his chest and he instinctively claps one hand over it, catching the pages as we cross the street. He pulls it back, glancing at it when we get to the other side, and I see the slow smile curve his lips as he reads the new version.

Love feels like living.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a sickeningly familiar whirl of dark hair. When I turn my head, Cort still reading my paper, Maya is white as a ghost a few feet from me. Her eyes look red, like she’s been crying.

She meets my gaze and triumph flares in my chest. She hasn’t bothered me, she hasn’t bothered him that I know of, and right now, she scurries off as I smile at her and flash my tongue, showing off my piercing.

Yeah. Spite feels like living too, bitch.

Now if only we could get Dr. Ravi to come around so easily to us being together, but one thing at a time, I guess.