Page 68 of Forbidden Lessons

I stare at it. Then at her.

She shrugs. “Like…it’s just not going to happen, you know?”

I sigh, the sound interrupted by a slightly terrified giggle. “Yeah, I know.”

“Wait, wait!” She pours us each a shot of tequila and holds it out for a toast. “To retaining our sanity this semester.”

We clink our glasses, my expression as serious as hers, and then I slowly lean forward until I’m on my knees.

I feel like I’m waiting for a bullet in the back of my head.

Melissa watches me, tapping her nail against the laminated card as she thinks. “Okay, okay.” She picks up my phone, aims it at me, and says, “Father forgive me, for I have sinned.”

I cringe. “Really? You’re bringing religion into this?”

She slashes out a hand. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I have slept with one of my teachers?—”

I scramble up so fast, the room spins. “No way!” I point at her. “No fucking way.”

“The whole point of this game is that you don’t get to decide how cruel I can be.”

“Melissa, no. I’m not saying that.”

“It’s a lie,” she groans. “It even says so on the card thingy.”

“Yeah? But you have to post it somewhere public.”

“I’ll hashtag it.” She smiles like a fucking shark. “Hashtag lies. Hashtag bullcrap. Hashtag?—”

“I could get expelled.”

“What? Oh, please.” She waves a hand, dropping my phone so she can stare at me. “Students fuck faculty all the time. As long as it’s not blatant that you got better grades because of it, and you don’t rub it in the dean’s face, no one gives a shit.”

She lifts my phone again. “We’re all adults here.” Her giggle is pure evil.

“Come up with something else.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Fine you fucking drama queen.” She glances away, and then focuses my phone on me again. “Okay, okay. Say you’ve stolen something.”

“Like what?”

“Like…someone’s wallet.”

My arms constrict even tighter around my chest. “Fuck off.”

“Seriously?”

I look away, fuming. “Delete your socials,” I tell her.

“Youcan’t makemesuffer a consequence.”

“Well, I’m not letting you be cruel to me, either.”

Melissa scoffs, then looks taken aback when I just keep staring at her. “Haven, come on. I’m not deleting my accounts. They’re…” she swallows. “I use them to network and stuff.” Her chin lifts. “You wouldn’t understand. I mean, you have like a total of five messages on your phone. Like, ever.”

“It’s a new phone,” I grate.

Melissa looks away, and then her shoulders slump. “Wow.”

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