Page 26 of Broken Romeo

Sitting up, I blinked my eyes open and gulped.

Uh-oh was right.

Our professor had just entered… and it was the very woman we had caught in the janitor’s closet.

And she was glaring directly at us.

* * *

Kate

Present Day

I flip through the journal pages a little, then shut the journal and fall back on the pile of pillows on my bed. Bile burns my throat, threatening to spill up my esophagus.

I was a well-raised boy once. And I preyed upon girls just like her.

It’s not new information. Not at this point in my life. And yet those words—his words—turn in my stomach like week-old leftovers.

There’s something else in Holden’s words that clenches in my chest. Admiration… for me. He’s spent so long denying and ignoring his feelings for me, I’ve almost forgotten how strong our chemistry was in the beginning.

Or maybe forgotten isn’t the right word.

Blocked.

I’ve blocked my memory about how intense our connection was right from the start. And how much he pushed me away in the beginning.

There’s a knock at my bedroom door, and Jill pops her head inside. Her wild, red hair is piled on top of her head, and her glasses perilously cling to the edge of her nose as she looks at me from over the rim.

“How was today?” she asks and slides into the room to sit at the foot of my bed.

I shrug. “It went exactly like I expected.”

“And how was Holden?”

I fill her in on the first rehearsal—how he made me lie down on the floor and read the love scene—and finish by telling her about the journal.

Her eyes go wide, and she runs her hand across the cover like it’s the holy grail. “Whoa. He gave you his diary to read?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure men don’t call them diaries.”

“Sexist.”

I stick my tongue out at her, but she’s not even looking at me. Her eyes are glued to the composition notebook sitting between us on my soft, teal comforter. “Maybe you can finally get some closure.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious. The fact that he’s willing to give you this to read?” She blows out a breath that sweeps her bangs briefly off her forehead. “He either really wants you to do well in this show… or he wants you to accept his apology finally.”

Or both.

“I don’t want to read his stupid thoughts. I don’t want to hear why he—”

“Yeah. And that’s why you need to.”

I stare at her. “You’re taking his side?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure you’re brilliant in the role, but it can only help, right? And you need this. We need this.”