Page 31 of Damaged Professor

Sara snorts. “The last thing that I need is help from someone like you.”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” I admit, irritated.

Sara takes a step towards me, so she’s right up in my personal space. My first instinct is to take a step backwards, but I know that’s just going to make me look stupid. I tilt my head back instead and try to hold my own ground—way difficult, considering that I don’t actually know what this is about.

Sara says, “I know what you’re doing, Abby. You might have everyone else fooled, but I’m not blind.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell her.

“How bad are your grades that you couldn’t even wait until the second semester, huh? Is that how you got into Princeton to begin with?” Sara demands.

I’m floored. I literally have no idea what she’s going on about, she can’t know about me and Dylan. Confusion on my face, I tell her, “I think you need to back up some. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not interested in it. Why don’t you go find someone else to—I don’t know, harass? Talk crazy at?”

I make to turn around. Sara grabs me by the wrist. Instantly, I recoil, jerking my arm away from her.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap, pulling my hand up against my chest.

Sara says, “Then don’t think you can walk away from me! I know what you did!”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know what you think I did!”

“I live right across the street from Dylan, you idiot,” says Sara. “And I saw you the other night going into his house.”

My stomach drops. We thought his house would be private. I guess we could have met at a hotel, but that would have felt a bit too much like a booty call.

Dylan insisted on his house anyway. He wanted to cook me dinner and feel unhurried.

I try for a very stiff, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Sara doesn’t buy it. She steps forward, back into my personal space, and jabs a finger against my chest. I smack at her hand.

“I said don’t touch me,” I snap again.

“You’re sleeping with Professor Bancroft for your grades!”

“What the—” I manage to say. My mouth hangs open, trying to figure out how to salvage the situation. She saw me get in his house and kept watching until I left? That’s some dedication. I can’t lose my cool now. If this gets out, Dylan’s job will be in jeopardy.

I straighten myself up. “I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about. And it’s very bold of you to assume I need to fuck my way through school.” I try to choose my words carefully. I need to be convincing without being insulting—that might trigger her even more—or worse start crying. But I feel almost out of control. “I don’t know how bad your grades are, but mine are good enough. I don’t need to do that.”

“Bullshit. I know what I saw,” she spits.

“I don’t know who the hell you saw but that wasn’t me.”

“You left in the middle of the night; I saw you both at his door. You might act like little miss perfect in the class, but I watched you the other night.”

“And you were watching his house for that long? Good for you. You should change majors; the literature department is really missing out.”

She takes another step forward, but I raise my hand before her. “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with you, but I don’t want any part in it.”

She is unfazed. “I’ve never seen anything that was more of a booty call straight out of the red-light district in my life.”

“Fuck off,” I tell her and turn away. She makes an unintelligible sound as I leave her standing there in the hallway.

This is bad news. Sara seems like the kind of person who’s going to want to run her mouth. And if she does that, it’s just—it’s exactly the kind of thing Dylan and I have been trying so desperately to avoid.

Actually, I don’t want Dylan to have to deal with it. He loves writing, sure, but teaching is his passion. If word gets around that he’s sleeping with someone in his class… I’m sure he is going to get in trouble. Thinking about him being reprimanded just makes me feel sick.

I duck down the hallway and keep going, walking past the room for my next class. I need to get some fresh air. There’s something tight in my chest, this pinching that makes it hard to breathe.

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