Page 65 of Rear View
Xavier: You ain’t catching no bus. I’ll be there when you’re done.
Me: I’m serious, Xavier. I’ll be fine.
His next message appeared, and my body warmed, heart fluttering wildly.
Xavier: I’ll be there.
Sure, it would be a pain to trudge through the snow, and the bus would definitely take longer, and it would be well past dark by the time I collapsed through my front door, but I’d meant what I’d said. He didn’t need to risk the weather orhimself, for me. Aside from my usual, ever-present issues, I could manage.
* * *
I unequivocally did not manage.
The power in Professor Barlowe’s office flickered and my gaze darted to the storm raging outside his window. Worse than just hours before. So, so much worse.
The wind whipped wildly, bowing the trees and blasting snow against the glass. The room was stagnant and cold while Barlowe scribbled on some papers from behind his desk, and I tucked my new notes for his suggested revisions into my bag. We were done, but half the cars in the student lot were buried or abandoned and a news alert said a six-car pile-up had happened right off College Street, so how I’d leave, I had no clue.
My chest was tight as I pulled out my phone and checked the city bus schedule.Canceled. Canceled. Accident. Canceled.Nothing was moving, which meant neither was anyone. And neither was I.
Whyhad Barlowe needed the stupid meeting? My last lecture had been canceled. I could’ve been home already, but he’d insisted all so he could address some stupid citing errors, the very definition of“this could’ve been an email!”
“How have things been?” Barlowe asked.
I flicked my finger over the hem of my shirtsleeve. “Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
I peered his way.
He arched a disbelieving brow. “Things between you and Christian seem to be a bit strained.”
I inclined my head slowly while I considered what to say. Yes, he’d watched the weirdness between Christian and me, but we were his TAs. I didn’t want to cause any issues on that front. Still, I wasn’t good enough to lie. “We’re just sorting some stuff. It’ll be fine.”
He eyed me for several seconds before he slowly bent and clicked a series of buttons on his high-tech computer. “I’ve just sent the time for our meeting Friday evening.”
Friday evening? Why had I ever chosen him as my adviser?Why?
My gaze roved to the window again. How was the weather getting worse? I worried my cheek between my teeth and rubbed my scar. Campus was dark, lecture halls and labs, empty. The snow was so deep, only the car roofs were visible. A handful of people trudged down the sidewalk, hip high in it and struggling. The walls I’d spent years inside suddenly felt like they’d closed in on me.
Professor Barlowe followed my line of sight and crossed his arms over his chest, his attention narrowing on the parking lot as if it had disappointed him. “Looks like we might be stuck.”
No. No. No!My heart stuttered. I couldn’t be stuck. I had to get home where it was familiar. Safe.
My phone pinged and I glanced down, my heart stopping when an unknown name crossed the screen.
Unknown: Where are you, Ryah Jane?
Barlowe’s stare slid to the mantel clock on his bookshelf. “I apologize for this, Miss Nolan. I miscalculated. Ithought we’d have more time. These forecasts are hardly ever right.”
Oh, God.My lungs seized, my ribs constricting around me as my hands shook wildly. “I need to leave.”
He canted his head. “The city’s shut down, Ryah. Only essential vehicles are out.” He turned my way. “I’m afraid we’re not going anywhere tonight.”
I raked my hands up and down the backs of my arms as the ringing in my ears started. My gaze darted around. There had to be another way out.Please, let there be a way out.
“I think we should just settle in.” He pointed to the old plaid couch to his right. “You’re welcome to sleep there, if you like.”
My vision narrowed, darkening around the periphery. I couldn’t breathe.I can’t breathe!“I can’t—I can’t stay, Professor.”
