Page 8 of Rear View
“Rude, Ry. I’m the sexy aunt.”
“Hands down.” I waved. “Love you!”
“Love you too.”
I took off, gasping while I ran, legs and lungs burning. People side-eyed me as I darted between them.
Bursting into the Ansel Psychology Centre, I scurried down the hall, boots squeaking loudly over the off-white linoleum floor.
My professor’s faux-wood office door was closed. The light inside illuminated the white letters that spelled out Doctor Barlowe on its frosted glass. Slowing, I offered a quick knock, then stumbled inside. A scowl occupied his already stern face. His russet-brown eyes narrowed while they surveyed me. Agitated? Annoyed? Somewhere in between? I couldn’t tell.
I flinched. “Sorry,” I said through a pant, then bent at the waist to catch my breath. “I got hung up.”
His shoulder-length bronze hair hung straight and loose, and his mouth thinned into a slash across his face. “I don’t appreciate my time being wasted, Ryah.”
I got it. Really, I did. I hated being late, but also, it wasfour minutes. Besides, it wasn’t like it was a habit. I couldn’t actually remember the last time it happened, but he appreciated supplication. And if it meant getting out of there in time, I’d give it.
“Sorry,” I said again. “We can reschedule, if you want.”
He was like that. Rigid. The man was somewhere in his late thirties, but he was old-school in his practice.
“No. You’re already here.” He crossed his legs and linked his fingers over his knee. “I only grant my time to a select few students as a courtesy, Miss Nolan. All I ask is for you to respect it.”
A strand of guilt tugged my chest. Thatwasfair. I straightened, and smoothed a hand over my coat before I unbuttoned it.
He gestured to the threadbare black chair opposite his desk. The wood was old and yellowed, the same shade as sun-aged pine. His computer was top of the line, though, with two fancy, state-of-the-art-looking screens that swiveled left to right. Up and down. I wouldn’t have thought the psych department had the budget for such elaborateness but there it sat.
“How’s your progress coming?” he asked.
Setting my bag down, I pulled out my draft and passed it over. Barlowe was…particular with his requirements. Emailing addendums to my thesis or questions back and forth would’ve saved weeks and countless trees, but he preferred paper and old-fashioned face time.
He scanned it, flipping through the pages as I sat there, practically twiddling my thumbs.
My foot bounced while I itched to pull up the Edgewater City Transport app. If I got out of there soon, I could catch the 95 back to my apartment. That bus meant a twenty-five-minute ride straight home. Safer. But if things ran too late, I’d be stuck with an hour ride, multiple transfers and two more-than-shady stations.
Barlowe gave a lone nod. “I’ll make my notes andreturn them to you later this week.” Setting my papers down, he eyed me. “And how have things been withhim?”
My throat tightened. I didn’t wanna talk about it—hatedtalking about it. But he’d seen the aftermath. Had been there when I’d received the worst of the threats. Under any other circumstances, I’d never have shared it with him, but it was kind of a right place, wrong time deal. Regardless, he was a psychologist, and hehadbeen helpful.
I checked my watch. “The same.”
He stood and circled his desk to take the chair beside me. Angling forward slightly, he adjusted the legs of his navy corduroy pants. “And how areyoudoing?”
My gaze flicked to the door. I just wanted to go but I’d wasted his time once already. “Okay. I’m just trying to focus on classes to keep my mind off it.” As if that were even possible.
“Is it helping?”
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Some days.” I exhaled and sagged back into the seat. “I just…hate feeling like this.”
“Like what?”
I tugged my loose and decidedly unflattering jeans.Intentionallyunflattering. “Trapped.”
He scratched the side of his jaw through the inch-long hair of his beard. “That’s reasonable. But when in doubt, consider your safety above all else. Don’t put yourself at unnecessary risk.”
It was good advice. Problem was, following it was the exact reason I felt the way I did. I sighed and I checked my watch again.
His mouth thinned. “Am I keeping you from something, Miss Nolan?”
