Page 2 of Tell Me Why
Suddenly, I have the feeling I’m the one who has fucked up.
Blinking, I look up and notice the room has gone completely silent. Everyone is staring at me, including Professor Cannon.
Shit.
Swallowing, I mumble “sorry” to the class as I snatch my bag and laptop and rush up the stairs to the nearest exit. My cheeks burn, and my heart is pounding as I push the door open and stumble into the hallway.
What the fuck did I just do? Why didn’t I just answer his stupid fucking question? I’m such an idiot.
But that’s the thing about the anger you keep suppressed. It rears its ugly head eventually, and the last thing I expected was Christian West touching me. That wasn’t exactly on my bingo card for today, so I wasn’t prepared.
It’s okay. Everything is okay.
I’ll just skip class this upcoming Thursday, and by next week, all this will be forgotten. With any luck, Christian won’t even remember I exist.
I stop at a bench and use it to set my bag down, so I can shove my computer inside.
“Hey,” a deep voice calls from behind me.
On instinct, I turn to see who it is, and Ireallywish I hadn’t. Christian is walking toward me, one hand in his pocket, that fucking smile still teasing the edges of his lips. I grab my bag and continue down the hallway.
“Hey,” he says again, his voice closer this time.
“Leave me alone,” I say, doubling down on my stupidity. I should apologize and make up a lie about being on my period or something, but I just can’t bring myself to pander to him. Monsters don’t deserve civility.
He catches up to me in the empty hallway, moving around to get in front of me, forcing me to either stop or crash into him. I stop.
“What the fuck was that?” There’s laughter in his tone, like we’re old friends, and this whole thing is some kind of joke.
“Nothing,” I say, taking a step back. He notices, glancing down at my feet, then slowly pulling his gaze up the length of my body like he has all the time in the world. Finally, his eyes snag on mine.
I’m holding my breath. I’ve just noticed that. And my heart is pumping so hard and so fast, my body jolts with every beat. But it’s not because I’m afraid of him. What can he do to me in the middle of a public hallway? It’s because I’m afraid of what I might do if he continues to provoke me.
“Nothing?” he repeats, taking a step toward me. “That didn’t seem like nothing.”
“I’m on my period,” I say in a rush, reaching for the only thing my panicked brain can come up with. I gesture down to my gray leggings. “Just…bleeding like a stuck pig. Everywhere. So, yeah, I can’t really stop and chat.”
Guys hate talking about menstrual cycles. I know from experience. Something about it just freaks them out, so I fully expect Christian to back up with disgust and let me pass. He doesn’t, though.Damn.Should I mention tampons? Maybe that would do it.
He laughs again. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?”
Um, what?
I didn’t expect him to challenge me on this, so it throws me a little. “Why would I lie about gushing copious amounts of blood?” I say, deliberately emphasizing the blood.
It’s not working.
He pushes me back against the wall, his large body surrounding me, trapping me. His hand falls to my waist, which is hidden beneath a hoodie that’s three sizes too large. Dipping his head, he speaks directly in my ear, “Fun fact about me—Ihateliars.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Why do I get the sense he’s not talking about the lie I just told, but something else? Am I just being paranoid, or does he know the truth about me?
Okay,nowI’m afraid.
“W-why would I have any interest in lying to you?” I ask. “I don’t even know you.”
He’s too close. His heat surrounds me, and it’s suffocating. I don’t want to touch him, but I have no choice. I can’t breathe. So I raise my hands and push against his chest. He doesn’t even budge. It’s like pushing against a brick wall.
“I’m asking myself the same thing. Why would some random girl in my psych class have such a strong reaction to me? It doesn’t make sense.”
