Page 91 of Wanted You More

After everyone leaves, I stand and drape my bag strap over my shoulder. “Is everything okay, professor?”

She collects her things and puts them onto the small table beside her podium. “I just wanted to check in. You seemed a bit distracted today. I know the first day back from break can be difficult for everyone, but this is an upper-level class. I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed by the content.”

Doing my best not to take offense to that, I smile at her. “Like you said, I’m a little tired after being gone for the last month. That’s all. I can handle the content. After all, it was my mother’s forte. I was practically born for this.”

Professor Kamala puts all her papers into her bag. “I read a few of your mother’s academic journals that were published,” she tells me, taking me by surprise. “She was quite the intelligent woman. I look forward to seeing what you can do. I’m sure she’d be proud.”

Well, shit.My snark didn’t get the results I was aiming for. If anything, it set up some major disappointment for her if she holds high expectations for me.

Clearing my throat, I grip my bag. “I’d like to think she would be too. That’s what my dad tells me anyway.”

She nods, lifting her gaze to me. “He’s very proud of you too, for what it’s worth. I’ve heard many amazing things about you, Austen. He likes that you’re close by. I’m sure he was worried you’d choose to leave. It’d be understandable if you did.”

Why is that? No matter where I go, my past will be the same. It’ll always follow me, so I might as well be where my closest support system is.

“I have to get going to my next class,” I tell her, jabbing my thumb toward the door. “But I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

As I walk toward the door, I pause when I hear her say, “I hope you take this class seriously, Austen. I’m sure you have other reasons to be here that I won’t question you about, but I think you can enjoy the content. The books aren’t that different than the ones your mother wrote her papers on. It could be a great way to feel close to her and the things she was passionate about.”

I don’t like her talking about Mom.

“Yeah, maybe,” I grind out, walking out before I can say something Dad will scold me for.

Pulling out my phone, I text Kennedy to see if she’s free. When she tells me she’s meeting with Lincoln for a quick lunch date, I decide to check on somebody else.

Me:Can you meet for lunch?

I’m walking through the quad when my phone buzzes in my hand.

Noah:I go on break at 1

I’ve got class then, but I don’t tell him that. He’d never agree to meet me if he knew I was supposed to be anywhere else.

Then again, he wouldn’t want me to ask where he should be either, because we both know it’s not with me.

Me:Perfect

Noah:I’ll pick you up at your dorm

I stare at his text, feeling nerves bubble under my skin. I don’t know which version of Noah I’m getting today.

The one who gives me personalized presents that make my heart do a funny tap dance in my chest or the one who looks like he wants to rip my head off every time I open my mouth.

Maybe Noah and I always go for each other’s throats is because we’re too much alike. We don’t want to give in.

Yet neither of us wants to let go either.

***

He takes usto an Italian restaurant I’ve never been to, making me feel uncomfortable in jeans. People are wearing far dressier outfits that has me tugging on my college sweatshirt and squirming in the corner booth he asked for us.

“Why did you bring us here?” I ask, having a sinking suspicion it’s because it’s out of the way of anywhere people we know would eat.

It’s also pricier.

Noah grabs one of the small bread loaves they brought out and cuts it, then passes me a slice with the butter. “Because they have the best cordon bleu around and I know how much you love that.”

It was the first thing I saw on the menu, and it made my mouth water. “It smells good in here. Their fries look delicious too.”

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