Page 69 of Forbidden Lessons

“What?”

She’s shaking her head. “I guess those weren’t rumors,” she whispers, going over to her phone to press pause.

When she looks at me over her shoulder, there’s a crease of concern between her brows. “Is it just me, or is this starting to feel like some kind of fucked up experiment?”

I shake off my irritation and nod at her. “Yeah, shit. That went from zero to forty in like two seconds.” I drop my head, rub my eyelids, wave her over. “You’re right, I’m being a drama queen. I’ll say the thing about stealing the wallet.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” she says, then switches the camera to selfie mode. “Hey, Professor, so I can’t exactly film this since it’s happening on my phone, but I’ll do a screenshot for you and include it in the submission.”

“Melissa?” I push to my feet. “What are you doing?”

She shrugs, but her eyes are on her phone. “I don’t even mind. Hardly go in this account anymore because of Man-Child’s DMs.” She snorts. “Jesus, forty-seven. And I checked this like two days ago. Can you believe this shit?”

Her nails tap against the glass as she busies herself on her phone, then she sets it up on the dresser again.

“Right, last round. You ready, Haven?”

“You seriously just deleted your account?”

She shrugs. “Was time for a detox, anyway.”

I win the next round of rock, paper, scissors, but I don’t feel happy about it. My stomach is churning so much, it’s turned everything inside to butter.

“Aw, fuck,” I mutter when I read the last card. “This is bullshit.”

Melissa sits up prim and proper, watching me with glassy eyes. “That bad, huh?”

I blow out a breath, then glance at the two slips of papers and the sticker that fell out earlier when Melissa upended the envelope.

Why does it feel like that happened a fucking century ago?

Wild Card:

Write down a secret your partner hides from others.

Seal it inside the envelope without letting them see.

You may not discuss this card.

The person who reveals the weakest secret will fail this round.

Both participants must play this round, or forfeit the entire game.

“Shit,” Melissa mutters, and then glances up at me. There’s still a tiny smudge of mascara under one eye. “Forfeit means failing his class.”

“But what the hell does failing this round mean?”

She shrugs. “I mean, I doubt he could actually kick someone out of his class. But our grades are totally in his control.” She rolls her eyes, sighing. “Should’ve sent him that titty shot. Maybe I still can. Soften the blow.” Her eyes fly open as she starts unbuttoning her shirt. “Will you help me take a good pic? I can never get the angle right.”

I wave at her to stop. “No one’s sending nude photos. We got this.”

I try to sound chipper, but I’m dying inside. We barely know each other…but I know she had a disastrous breakup and calls her ex a man-child. Is that a secret, though? And worse than whatever she can figure out about me?

“You’re right.” She stands to fetch two pens out of her laptop bag and hands me one. “So what are you thinking? Are we going nuclear, or just airing some dirty laundry?”

“We can’t discuss it,” I mumble, glancing over at her phone.

“Damn it.” She taps her pen against the piece of paper as she takes her seat in front of me again. “Okay, but for the record, this is super unfair. You’re obviously a fucking angel, and I’ve given you more than enough ammunition to win.”

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