Page 36 of Forbidden Lessons

So I dragged myself to class, and I tried to look like I wasn’t dying inside. I think he bought it, but it’s always hard to tell what’s going on in Rooke’s head.

Fuck, I’m regretting it though. The beers were fine. I can drink plenty of those and be a-okay, but I didn’t stop there. Whiskey got involved, and that’s when shit really hit the fan.

One shot, two shot, four.

But I still wasn’t drunk enough to drown out Haven’s puppy eyes, could still taste apple pie on my tongue, could still hear her whimpering like an injured animal.

Because that’s what she was, after what I’d done.

Now I’m recovering in the only quiet, dimly lit place on this campus—the library—while I wait for today’s second round of painkillers to kick in. Most students not in class are outside, soaking up whatever heat from the sun struggles through the thin clouds. There’s a handful of nerds inside with me, but most only stay long enough to find and check out whatever book they’d been after before leaving.

I’m in one of the little alcoves dotted about the place. Most are beside windows, but some have only a moody painting for decoration, a green study lamp embedded on the table for light. I’m in one of those, but I turned my light off, because I’m as photosensitive as a fucking vampire. I’d even be wearing my shades inside like a douchebag…but I forgot them in the lecture hall.

I groan at the thought of having to walk back to the frat house without my sunglasses. Maybe there will be denser cloud coverage by then. Looks like the rains are coming early this year.

“…let me see…yeah, right over there. Should be a charging station just under that desk.”

Jesus Christ, whothe fuckis disturbing my peace?

I’m lying down on the curved, cushioned bench, so all it takes is rolling my head to the side to glimpse a pair of legs walking past nearby. A floral-print dress, so must be the librarian. Someone follows close behind in faded jeans. All I can see is a section of their thighs and ass, and despite how I’m feeling, I purse my lips with appreciation.

That’s a good looking ass, even in a pair of shapeless jeans.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

I sit up so fast I get a dizzy spell, but the pair has already disappeared behind one of the stacks.

No fucking way.

This hangover is making me hallucinate or some shit, because I swear to God that girl soundedjustlike Heavenly.

I take a sip of my water and carefully slide out of the bench, heading in the same direction. There’s just a flutter of a printed skirt as the librarian rounds the corner of another stack, so I stalk after them and pause at the end to peek around the shelf of books.

“Here you go. And don’t forget your book.” There’s a soft thump, and I have to hurriedly retreat before the librarian can spot me. I wait to hear the rustle of her clothing pass, count a few breaths, and then stride down the stack again.

I stop when I see Haven.

She has her back to me, bending over as she plugs her phone into the charging station beneath the bench of the alcove the librarian led her to. This one has a window overlooking the garden, but there isn’t much light coming through. Guess it’s getting cloudier out there.

I lean against the shelf of books beside me, hooking my thumb into the pocket of my Brunello sweats as I watch her. The library is cool enough that I haven’t had to take off my Gucci hoodie, but Haven is zipped up like we’re in the Antarctic.

She slides into the booth and lets out a sigh as she shifts around to get comfortable.

With her sunglasses still on, the cap and zipped up hoody, she looks like she’s in fucking witness protection, but they haven’t moved her to a safe house yet.

That was me.

I did that to her.

Should I be impressed at how brave she is, or pissed that I didn’t do enough to keep her away?

It’s because I keep picturing us when we were kids. That cute, cheeky little girl who’d go trundling through the woods with me on a merry adventure, not this grown up, fucked up fraud in front of me. I’m going at this half-throttle, when it should be pedal to the metal.

Haven grabs the brim of her AHC cap and starts to pull it off, then quickly looks around like she first wants to make sure she’s alone.

But she’s not. And when she spots me leaning against the stack just a few feet away, she scrambles to the center of the bench, right by the window, like that’s her escape route.

Guess she realizes I’m too close. If she tried to run, I’d snag her like a rabbit in a snare.

---