Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 28 "I was about to start a candlelight vigil in your honor." Melissa's voice forces my eyes open. Which sucks, because I just, just about to fall asleep. Fuck, who am I kidding? I've been lying here for half an hour trying to forget how it felt to be trapped between Bastian and Kai's bodies. Trying to forget how much I liked it. Trying to just fucking sleep. Exhausted as I was, I didn't want to go to bed when I got to my room. I wanted to tackle some homework, or think about the shit show I'll have to deal with come Monday.

Whether I should even attempt to drag the shattered remains of my life back together and patch them up, or just leave town and try to make a living at a diner three or four towns over. Instead, I showered, changed into dry clothes, crawled into bed, and begged for the numbness of sleep. Which never came. I roll onto my back, throwing a hand onto my forehead to make my groan that much more dramatic. Melissa isn't buying it. She stands in the doorway, still dressed in her pajamas, one fluffy bunny slipper propped against her ankle, her hip leaning against the jamb.

Her hair is half-hidden under a wide velvet headband with bunny ears, a glossy pink face mask coating her skin. She's holding two mugs in her hands, and I have a sneaking suspicion one of them is for me. "Guess I should call off the search party. You owe me like a hundred donuts," she says, closing the door behind her before flopping over to my bed and handing me a mug. "This tea had better scald me." "Tea?" I prop myself up on my elbows so I can peer into the mug. "This is coffee." "Hilarious, Haven. Now give me the fucking tea." She widens her rust-brown eyes.

I hate the fact that she looks perfect and pretty without makeup. "I was on a lot of drugs, but I know I didn't hallucinate our dark daddy whisking you away last night." She gives me a tight, evil little smile that's got nothing to do with not wanting to crack her face mask. "You guys fuck?" "What?" I squeak, pushing the heels of my hands into the mattress so I can get some distance between us. "Melissa, he's my teacher." "And?" She cocks her head like I'm missing the point. "You honestly expect me to believe you had a sleepover, but there wasn't a pillow fight?" "I was completely out of it.

Drugs, remember?" I whisper the last, in case someone has their ear pressed against the door. "I fell asleep in his car." "And then...?" "And nothing!" She could out-stare the fucking sun. "I slept on his couch, okay?" "And then?" Her voice is a low, needy rasp. "God, he made me a smoothie, if you must know!" I chug down some of the coffee, rolling my eyes when she just keeps watching me expectantly. "What?" "You're such a prude," she says dryly.

"I'll stick with my version of events, thanks." She sighs, setting her mug down on the floor, then grabs the back of her knees, leaning back and kicking out her feet. "He took you home, ran you a bath, seduced you with chocolates and wine while Mozart played on the stereo⁠-" She giggles when I slap her arm. My coffee nearly sloshes over the side of the mug, so I set it down on the nightstand before I can stain the sheets. "Then he carried you to his bed and whispered dirty, filthy things in your ear while he⁠-" I hit her upside the head with the pillow, and thankfully that shuts her up.

She pats her face with her fingertips to make sure I haven't messed up her mask. You could fry an egg on my cheeks. "Are you blushing-" She gets another bop with the pillow for that. "Okay, okay! I'll let you get your beauty sleep." She stands, straightening her pajamas, double-checking her headband is still in place. "You must be exhausted after all that anal-" She cuts off with a crow of delight when I toss my pillow at her, and then hurries to the doorway, out of reach of further duck-down missiles. "Your phone's charging in the kitchen," she calls from the hallway.

"It was off when I took it out of your purse last night, and I have no idea if it's ever coming back from the dead." "Thanks," I mutter, although a part of me feels snippy about her going through my things. I guess she was just looking out for me, but still. I slip onto my back again. It's not as comfortable as it was before, sans pillow. I roll my head, staring at the carpet where my pillow lies. "We're doing nails and stuff in the den if you want to come down," she says, peeking into the doorway.

"I'm sure you'll want to look pretty tonight in case dark daddy shows up." "Tonight?" I stare longingly at my pillow, willing it back to my bed with the power of my mind, but it just lies there, enticingly fluffy, frustratingly out of reach. "Mixer at the G's house later." "Fuck, no," I groan. "I'm still recovering from last night." I reach for the pillow, but I'd have to get out of bed to grab it. I make grabby hands for it, and Melissa walks closer and picks it up, holding it by one corner and swaying it from side to side, just out of reach. "Say you'll come." I gape at her.

"You're holding my pillow ransom? You monster." "Come on. A party will take your mind off...things." Her eyes lock onto my throat. I clap a hand over the marks. Not all of them were from that collar. The bruises Kai's fingers left are only now fading to yellow. There are so many more marks under my clothes. Kai's...and Bastian's. Layers of cruelty, new over old. Her mouth slants, and unless it's just the play of light in her irises, I swear I see sympathy there. Could be pity, too. What would she think if she saw the other marks? The bruises on my thighs and hips?

If she could feel the tenderness between my legs? If she knew my puffy bottom lip wasn't just from my own teeth? That I witnessed Kai damage Bastian's mouth almost exactly the same way last night? My clit tingles at the thought. ...Haven is a fuckn whore... The physical evidence of what happened last night is fading fast, but the memories-those hot, fucked up memories-are only getting sharper. "Take my mind off what?" I force out, my voice too uneven to pull off the light tone. "Last night was rough, Haven.

But as our Lord and Savior, Taylor Swift, once decreed, you just gotta shake it off." I laugh. Bitterly. She frowns. "I'm being serious." "Pillow!" I hold my hand open, fingers stiff. "Please!" "You're no fun," she mutters, tossing the pillow at me. It does a good job of muffling my scream, but I wait until my roommate is out of earshot first, just in case. As much as I'd love just to roll over and go to sleep, my brain is fucking wide awake now. Melissa was just joking around, but how long before someone does find out what happened between me and Bastian last night?

I might have jeopardized my only chance at a new life by sleeping with my professor. Sure, I could argue I didn't consent. But...I did. I fucking did, and I don't think I'll ever stop hating myself for it. That can never happen again. Not with him, definitely not with Kai. The decision slams into me with the force of a train. It won't happen again. My life is messy enough as it is. Hell, I don't even know what I'm going to do next week. Nora keeps trying to get hold of my dad. When she can't, someone's going to figure out I forged his signature and social security number on that form.

Then what? It would take an Immaculate Conception-level miracle for me to survive that unscathed. Best case scenario? I'm kicked out of school, forced to live in my car, working at the diner after I crawled in there to beg for my job back. Worst case? I get charged with fraud, which goes on my permanent record, and wind up hooking so I can buy more drugs. Should have seen this coming. I blame the media. Maybe I missed them all, but I've never seen a movie where parents were involved in a kid's college life after they're dropped off during orientation week.

After all, I was planning on perfect attendance. Grades just good enough to graduate without drawing attention. I was going to be the invisible student no one would remember after graduation, who'd go on to live a calm, stress-free life with just enough money never to have to worry about money ever again. Is that too much to fucking ask? Of course it is. Apparently, I owe Kai a ginormous karmic debt because teenage Haven was a needy little bitch. And somehow that karmic debt bled through to Ezra, because he suddenly has it out for me too.

How can I go back to my already fucked-up level of normal after this? Punching my pillow doesn't make me feel any better, and it honestly doesn't deserve the abuse. But I do it anyway, because it's that or scream again. Or heading to Lookout Point in Bastian's Land Rover. Possibly for the last time ever. No. Fuck that. I get up and go fetch my phone from the kitchen, sneaking past the den so no one spots me. I hear girls talking and giggling inside. A rom-com playing on the television. For a moment, I wish I was inside that room, doing my nails and pretending I was just a normal college girl.

That my biggest problem was deciding which color polish would go best with my outfit, which boy to kiss tonight, how drunk to get. Can't even remember when I last wore nail polish. Can't remember when I last considered myself a normal girl. Maybe never. I kept to myself, because that was easier than pretending I had a stable home, clothes that weren't trash, and a house I could invite my non-existent friends over to. No one wants to hang out with trailer trash while their dad hits a meth pipe in the other room. Moments later, I'm back in my bed, under the sheets, with the bedroom door closed.

My phone goes haywire with missed calls and texts when I turn it back on. Melissa, wanting to know where the hell I am, if I'm safe, please just call her. A text that I've been approved for a $10,000 student loan with a super low interest rate, which I'm pretty sure is some kind of scam. And a message from the same unknown number that messaged me last night at the gala. UNKNOWN Call me. We need to talk. It's Kai. The last was sent minutes later, as if he'd realized I don't have his number and might not know who the hell wanted to talk to me. I stare at the screen as if it might bite me.

Like he might. Part of me wants to type back something nasty. Something to remind him that last night wasn't romantic. It wasn't sweet. It was a collision-one I should never have survived, and definitely shouldn't want to repeat. My thumbs hover over the keyboard. @lee.haven DON'T FUCKING CONTACT ME I type it. Read it back. Erase it. Too tame. Too careful. He doesn't get careful from me anymore. @lee.haven BURN IN HELL I hit send before I can second-guess it, then hold down the power button until the screen goes black, swallowing him with it.

Original content can be found at Find_Novel(.)net The silence afterward is so loud it almost hurts. I drop the phone on the nightstand like it's something dirty, yank the covers over my head, and pretend, for just a second, I'm a normal college girl. But I can't, because normal's never been in my fucking vocabulary. So I rip away the sheets and stomp downstairs, and grab the first bottle of nail polish I see. Melissa gives me a diabolical smile when I sit down cross-legged beside her on the carpet, but I show her my palm. "Don't wanna talk about it," I mutter.

"...haters gonna hate, hate, hate..." she sings under her breath. Somehow, despite myself, I smile.