Page 29 of Whispers of Obsession

“Are you going to walk me in? Holding my hand maybe and escort me to homeroom? Or do you plan to toss me over your shoulder and carry me to each of my classes?”

“It can easily be arranged, Cora, don’t get shitty with me.”

“Surely you have somewhere better to be? Or class, at the very least?”

“I’m meeting a friend here, and I thought I’d be nice and give my little sis a ride.” I shiver at the way he calls me his little sister. Is it my imagination, my weekend fantasies bleeding into Monday reality, that hears him put a slight emphasis on the wordride?

“Well, I didn’t ask you to.” I force my tone to be lessshitty,as he put it, but my words still come out clipped.

“And again, you’ve still not thanked me,” he retorts, his voice turning hard.

I swallow, even as my nipples pebble against my thin top. Fuck, I need to get my body under control.And my mind.

I sigh. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now–”

“Can I ask you something?” I blurt out, before I can lose my nerve. Something he said this morning on the phone has been bugging me.

“If you’re quick,” he replies with an impatient frown.

“You said my mom called you. How did she know you’re back?”

“I went to college, Cora. It’s not like I left the country.”

“So why haven’t we seen you in years? You broke her heart, Slater.”

“That’s between me and your mother, Cora. It’s none of your business and if she wants you to know, she’ll tell you herself. Now run along and get to class like a good girl. Wouldn’t want to have to punish you for being late now, would we?”

Gulping, I exit his car with my backpack in hand, shutting the passenger door with more force than is necessary.

What did he mean, it was between him and my mom. Were they keeping secrets from me? If so, what? And why does the idea of that make my chest ache?

In an instant I hear Slater’s door open, and I panic that I’ve pushed him a little too far, and he’s going to chase me and make good on that promise, but then I hear him greeting someone.

Looking back behind me, my feet stumble to a halt as I watch him bro hug and back slap a guy I don’t recognize. I’m rooted to the spot, watching their exchange. The stranger isn’t a student, he’s nearer Slater’s age. Maybe even a little older. And he’s dressed way too smart to be a pupil here.

“Mr. Marx, looking good,” Slater laughs. It’s such a lovely sound, so carefree and light. Whenever he talks to me, he sounds like he’s got a stick up his ass.

“Don’t,” his friend groans, punching Slater in the shoulder good naturedly. “Seriously, though, man, thanks for helping me get this gig.”

“No worries. I heard they had a position come up suddenly, and I wanted to help.”

I strain my ears to hear the rest of their conversation, but Slater drops his voice. Is this guy – what did Slater call him, Mr.Marx? – a new teacher at the school? And how did Slater know they needed one? How was he able to help his friend get the job?

“Better run along, Cora, wouldn’t want you to be late,” Slater calls, making me jump.

I scramble away, but I can’t help but wonder which teacher suddenly had to leave the school.

My sinking gut already knows the answer though.

By the time I make it to Mr. Spiro’s class – my last lesson of the day – I already know that he’s gone. Every class I’ve had today has been rife with gossip about the teacher’s sudden departure, and wild with speculation about his attractive new replacement. Half the girls are in love with him already, but I just have a sour taste in my mouth when I see him.

“Welcome, Cora, take a seat,” he says to me with an easy smile.

As I turn to take my seat, the first two rows of girls all glower at me and shoot me evil looks.

“How does he know her name?” one of them mutters.

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