Page 29 of Forbidden Lessons

I shake my head, and catch Kai staring at me as I sling my tote bag’s strap over my shoulder. I tense, waiting for him to pounce. But he just studies me with this vague, considering look on his face as he taps a pen against his jaw.

Whatever the hell he’s plotting, it won’t work.

Just like the bruises he left on my wrist and arms, my fear of him has melted away.

He can grab me and push me around, but that won’t change a thing.

I’ve sacrificed too much to be here. The Social Change grant was a lifeline thrown into the shark-infested waters I was drowning in, and just in time, too.

I came to AHC prepared for the worst.

Okay, Kai managed to throw me off my game for a day or so, but I’m back, and I can handle anything coming my?—

“Are you the imposter or the counterfeiter?”

My head snaps to face Professor Rooke. A few of the students streaming past us on their way to the door glance our way, but most are more intent on getting to their next lesson.

“Huh?”

Rooke’s brown eyes dart to my mouth, then over to where Kai’s sitting watching us. “You two have been glaring at each other the whole morning.”

I laugh, but cut the sound short when Professor Rooke’s eyebrows lift.

“We have, uh, history.”

“Interesting,” Rooke says, as if it’s the most boring answer he ever heard in his entire teaching career. “Save some of that zeal for my assignment.”

I laugh again, but Rooke is already headed for the door. I’m just about to throw Kai another scowl when the professor turns back to me.

“True art reveals those truths we try to hide from ourselves, Miss Lee.”

He gives me a lingering scan, the corner of his mouth curling up.

“What will yours expose?”

Chapter 10

Haven

I wince when I accidentally slam my car door. The state this thing’s in, I wouldn’t be surprised if the fender falls off. I’ve got to be more careful. Auto repairs are definitely not in my budget. Not that I even have a budget. Money planning is only required if you actually have some.

The faint hum of Pie Palace’s white neon sign greets me as I walk around to the front of the building. I tug at the hem of my outfit—a faded mustard-yellow smock made from cheap polyester.

I couldn’t care what I look like. I just wish the thing didn’t itch so much.

It’s not like anyone from AHC is likely to see me in it. This diner is so close to Riverside, no one from the upper suburbs would dare eat here for fear of catching poverty.

I’m working behind the counter tonight, which I love because it means I can keep a flipped-open textbook hidden just out of sight to study from when I’m not serving customers.

“Coffee and pie.”

I take my pen out of my mouth and blink up at the guy sitting opposite me. I was so zoned in on my textbook, I didn’t notice him walking in.

As soon as I see his face, it feels like someone’s dragging my polyester dress up my back.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Coming right up.” I try to sound chipper, but there’s an uneven cadence in my voice.

I know this guy. Sure, Agony Hollow is a small town, so no duh, but I saw him like less than an hour ago.

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