Page 40 of Toxic

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The next day, I waited for him again outside his dorm. When he came out, he blinked, but didn’t say anything about my presence there. As usual, he pulled out a cigarette, and we walked in silence while he smoked, staring up at the gray sky.

"Looks like it’s gonna rain," I said, desperately trying to start some kind of conversation, but just then, my phone beeped.

I glanced at the message, and my heart sank. It was a notification from the Blackboard app—apparently, I’d barely passed my Python class with a D. Just scraped by. My final grade was on thin ice.

"Fuck," I muttered, clenching my jaw.

"What?" Soren took a deep drag, glancing at me with narrowed eyes.

Cursing under my breath, I showed him the screen. His stormy eyes lingered on the message before he looked away without saying a word.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket, muttering some random profanities, just as the first drops of rain hit my face. We were almost at the main building. Hiding from the drizzle, a small group of students huddled under a small canopy. I noticed Alvin and Don among them, which didn't do much for my sour mood. Don’s glare felt like a death sentence, even from a distance. He was about to approach us, but Alvin grabbed his arm, whispering something to him.

Soren stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, completely ignoring Don’s glances. His face was cold, distant—he didn’t even acknowledge him.

Our class was starting soon, so we headed inside.

As soon as we sat down, I pulled out my phone again, staring at that terrible notification. I felt a wave of frustration and defeat wash over me. Even though I’d been studying hard, I was seriously worried I wouldn’t pass this class. I considered what to do and thought about telling Finn Delgado of my troubles. I bit my lip, trying to push down the stress.

"If you want, you can come over today. I’ll help you with Python," Soren muttered suddenly. He sounded like he was offering to pull my wisdom teeth, his whole posture stiff, almost hostile. No one had ever offered to help me in such a prickly way before. It must’ve cost him a lot to say it.

"No, I know you’ve been working longer hours lately. I wouldn’t want to bother you, but I really appreciate the offer."

He grimaced and snorted. "Just stop. Come at 8. I'll help you."

"Soren, I really—"

"Shut up," he growled.

So I did exactly that. I guess this was Soren’s attempt to do something nice for me in a… rude way. How peculiar.

Feeling a mix of confusion and happiness (yep, call me stupid, happiness!), I had trouble focusing on the professor’s words. Instead, I kept stealing glances at Soren—my eyes running over the lines of his barbed wire tattoo, down his neck where fading hickeys still showed. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and I felt this strange urge to touch it, but I had no idea how to go about it. Slowly, I placed my hand on the back of his chair, pretending I was just resting it there, not sure if he even noticed.

After a few minutes, I gathered a bit more courage and gently stroked his right shoulder blade… Soren almost jumped in his seat when he felt my touch, so I immediately withdrew my hand, flustered by his reaction.

He didn’t look at me, seemed tense, his eyes locked on his notebook. I noticed he’d stopped taking notes, just sitting there frozen.

Shit. I shouldn’t have touched him without warning. It was a mistake. I removed my hand off his chair and put it back on my lap. Swallowing hard, I wrote a short sentence and slowly turned the page toward him:

"I’m sorry."

His light gray eyes flicked over the words for a few seconds. No reaction.

A minute passed, and he just sat there, staring at his notebook.

Suddenly, he scribbled a few words and, like I had done before, showed them to me:

"For what?"

I blinked. That wasn’t the response I expected.

"For touching you without asking," I wrote.

A flash of irritation crossed his face.

"It wasn’t a flinch of fear, Skye!"

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