Page 20 of Stalked to the Altar

“My name is Ashley.” She stuck her hand out.

I shook it. “Eden,” I murmured.

“I know. We have Lit together. I can’t say I’m buying you coffee for the hell of it. I’m going to need all the help I can for midterms, and I thought maybe I could bribe you into being my study partner since you have done so well in your coursework.” She hung her head sheepishly, but I barked out a laugh.

“So, what did you need help with?” I asked as she paid, leading her off to the side for us when she finished, so we could wait for our drinks and talk. As it usually did, the attention I felt on me made me uncomfortable, so I shook my hair, fluffing it out so the curls covered a part of my face. My hair made a good shield.

“I can’t get a handle on some of the 16th-century literature we are going over. I know the midterm is going to be heavy on those readings, so I thought maybe you could break them down for me?” she asked hopefully.

I hadn’t made many friends yet and wasn’t about to skip out on having a new study partner. There were so many styles of learning that I liked to see how other people worked. It made it easier for me to pick up new study tactics that I then used for my own higher learning.

I shuddered as the feeling of being watched intensified. I turned around to look for the culprit and saw a table of my professors nearby. My eyes stopped on Professor Holt. The hair on the back of my neck rose in warning as his eyes slid over my body.

Oh yeah, it was definitely that fucker. Could he be my stalker?

“Oh no, you caught Professor Holt’s eye, huh?” My new friend Ashley shot me a sympathetic glance. “Ick.”

A commotion from the professor’s table drew my attention. It looked like Professor Caputo had spilled his coffee all over Professor Holt.

I relaxed a little because the accident took Holt’s eyes off me, and I felt like I could breathe again. “Let’s head out while you tell me what you know about Professor Holt,” I suggested as we grabbed our coffees.

“There have been rumors about him telling some of the female students he can fix their grades if they do favors for him,” she whispered.

I had to lean down to hear her and kept quiet as I considered all she said.

“I always believe there is a little grain of truth to every rumor,” I said finally. “Which is probably why my gut tells me to never get caught alone with him.”

Ashley nodded her agreement. “Professor Caputo, though…” She giggled. “I wouldn’t mind being bent over his desk any day. He’s the hottest professor on campus.”

My imagination had a visceral reaction to her words. Like starring in my own porn, I could see myself laid flat over his desk with my skirt lifted, and his hands smacking my ass.

But then I remembered Professor Smith with her hands all over his body, and I wanted to vomit.

Ashley yanked on my arm to grab my attention. “OMG! You have a crush on him!” she squealed.

I shushed her and dragged her to a quieter place on the quad. I didn’t want to be overheard lest someone take it the wrong way and make a complaint. I needed everything to be perfect here. I couldn’t squander my opportunity.

“I don’t have a crush on him,” I assured. “He’s nice to look at, but probably ten years older than us, if not more. Besides, it’s against the code of conduct.” I argued.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Ashley giggled into her hand.

Ugh, really mature.

I smiled tightly. “Are you available Tuesdays and Thursdays? That’s when I’m in the library. Not for work-study, but just regular study.” I changed the subject quickly because I did not want to talk about Professor Caputo.

Ashley nodded and took out her phone. “Let’s exchange numbers and share calendars. Best to stay organized, right?”

I grinned. “Organization is my middle name.”

With that, I think I made a new friend.

???

I had a smile on my face the rest of the day. Not even my mother’s incessant calls or the random hang-ups from unknown numbers could keep me down.

The days flew by, and before I knew it, I was back in Silas’ Italian class again, but for once, I was on time. I took my seat and put my phone on “do not disturb”. I was sick and tired of hearing it buzz from my backpack anyway.

The number of times it rang with a call was overwhelming, so I stopped answering days ago. The last time I answered, the person on the other end was panting, and there was a squelchy sound that made me think they were touching themselves. It weirded me out enough that I upchucked my dinner.

---