Page 46 of Teacher's Pet

“Yeah, I—”

The passenger door opened before he could finish. A voice snapped, “Idiot! You nearly ran over our professor.”

I turned, and my body felt strangely lighter.

Noah.

Usually a solid student, but lately showing up late, twenty minutes last time. Now I was starting to understand why.

He glared at Landon, cheeks flushed, shirt on backwards. I didn’t comment.

“You’re both late to class.”

“Sorry, Mr. Thorne, we were… just—” Noah stopped himself, his face heating up as he shoved on his thick-rimmed glasses. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Whatever you do outside of class doesn’t interest me,” I said. “But maybe save it for after class?”

Noah’s cheeks turned crimson. Landon chuckled under his breath.

“He’s joking,” Landon muttered to Noah as I turned away, heading toward the building. Thirty minutes late for my own lecture, all because I’d been sneaking around in a parking lot stalking a student’s ride. Thirty minutes I couldn’t explain to anyone.

Not that I’d want to.

I told myself it wasn’t because I missed Ryan, just that a student disappearing for two weeks mattered. That was all. I should probably alert the dean. But the dean would contact his parents, and Ryan was already on academic probation.

It would have been the responsible thing to do.

Yet as I walked back toward my class, Landon and Noah trailing behind me with sharp little remarks for each other, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan, soaked in rain, caked in mud, eyes burning with anger, when I’d threatened to tell his father.

No. I’d keep this to myself. For now.

***

I was barely heading home when I got the text.

Unknown:

Meet me at the bar please.

Me:

Who is this?

Unknown:

Don’t act dumb, professor.

I grit my teeth, but there was this stupid surge of relief in my chest. He was alive, breathing, apparently fine enough to type out words. After my little disaster in the parking lot, I needed to see him, if only to steady myself.

I packed up quickly and ignored the gnawing reminder that getting sucked into Ryan’s little tantrums would chew my life up. It was going to unravel everything.

I knew this.

I knew it.

But my hands were already steering toward the bar.

***