Chapter 6
Melody
Sweat dripsdown the back of my neck as I sit there, waiting for my doom. What was I thinking? If I didn't cheat, I still might have had an opportunity to get at least some sort of grade. Now, there's no hope. I've never known a teacher to let you retake a test if you've cheated. Ugh. Now I really wished I called in sick instead of recording the answers
Hell, it wouldn’t have been hard at all to complain of an upset stomach. If I didn’t have an ulcer already, I’m getting one now. Blood drains from my face as I look up at the clock. I've also missed my English midterm. Slumping down in my chair, I gnaw on my bottom lip. It's not like it matters now. I'm expelled for sure. The only thing that might save me is if I throw Professor Richards under the bus. He was too overbearing!
But would that really make a difference? How can I prove it? As far as I know, no one else cheated, just me. Shelaine sits over at her desk, fingers flying across the keyboard with no thought to my plight. She didn't even look surprised when she came to collect me. Maybe she's just a detached kind of person.
"May I have some water?"
She spears me with a withering glare. Nope, not detached. Now I have no clue what's going on, but either way, she's not going to be an ally. After clicking away for a few more moments, she slides her chair back and steps around the desk. With lithe, graceful steps, she eases her way over to the nearby corner and grabs one of the paper cups, fills it up, and heads back over to me. How did I miss that being there? No wonder she's pissed. I'd be too, if someone acted so inept.
"Sorry." I give her a sheepish grin and shrug, hoping to win her back to my side. Or, at least, make her not so hostile. "I didn't realize that was over there."
"Obviously."
As she hands me the cup, I take a moment to really look at her. She seems too young to work for a dean. In fact, she looks closer to my age than not. Bright, intelligent, brown eyes, fringed with long, thick lashes stare down at me, her gaze shuttered and indiscernible. But at least she doesn't look ready to kill me. Maybe that's progress? I'll take any ally I can get at this point. She hands me my cup and keeps her gaze trained on me, studying me as much as I study her.
Taking a quick gulp, I try to break the ice a little bit. "Are you a student hire?" That finally surprises a reaction out of her. Shelaine shakes her head and barks out a laugh.
"That's sweet of you, but no. I can afford to go here. I don't have to work for my tuition."
Is it my imagination, or do her eyes hold a bit of contempt and condescension? "But you are a student?" I press. I'm not trying to alienate her; I just want someone to talk to. Something to occupy my mind that doesn't include all the worst-case scenarios flowing through it.
With a sigh, she sits down at the chair across from me, casting furtive glances over at the dean's office door every few moments. "Look, there's a lot you don't know about this school, but one thing you need to learn now is that you don't ask questions. Not of me, not of the professors, no one. You keep your questions to academics and nothing else. Do not try to make friends here. Trust me, you'll be much better off for it."
"Now, now Shelaine, is that any way to make our fellow students feel warm and welcome here?" Professor Richards’ deep baritone crashes in, effectively cutting off the conversation.
Shelaine jumps out of her seat and stands next to it, head down, hands clasped behind her back. "Forgive me, Professor. I was just trying to make things easier for her. I meant no disrespect."
"Hmmm. I think I'll let the dean decide what he considers disrespectful from his secretaries. Now then, back to your desk. Let John know I'm here."
My eyes widen as she scuttles over. What, no comeback? No retort? Is Professor Richards somehow her boss, too? So many questions swirl around my head, making it ache. Reaching up, I rub at my temples, trying to rid myself of this headache and bring my world back into some sort of balance. His warm fingers encircle mine and bring our hands down to my lap.
"I would ask if you've been doing any introspection, but as it seems, you've been chatting up someone who has much better things to do than give you an escape from your thoughts." Our fingers separate and, oddly, I miss his warmth and strength. It's stupid, really. He's the one I wronged. Why would I seek comfort from him?
Possibly because you didn't actually intend to wrong him. You just wanted to save yourself. Yeah. I'll keep telling myself that lie. I knew the potential consequences of my actions, and yet I did it anyway.
"I'm sorry." My voice is barely a whisper. I'm fairly sure he didn't hear me. His chuckle belies that notion.
"No, you're not. You're sorry you got caught. Admit it."
His expression is placid, but his body language is anything but. His broad shoulders are rigid, the same as his arms. In fact, when I look closely enough, I can see the veins popping up just a touch. He clears his throat, bringing my mind back to his statement. Is he actually looking for the truth? Would it even help? His eyebrow raises, making my stomach flip. Gritting my teeth, I glare at him as hard as I can. It's his fault I'm in this mess. The longer I glare, the wider his grin becomes. "Oh, just get it over with already!"
"Get what over with?" In one smooth motion, he brings one leg up to rest on the other, nonchalance just pouring out of him. The calmer he becomes, the more anger pumps through me. Without saying a word, he extends his hand, palm up. Shelaine jumps out of her seat and races over to the water cooler, and fills up a cup. With a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, she hands him the cup and goes back to her desk. He tilts it back and drinks it down, his eyes never leaving mine.
I squirm under his gaze. How can he affect me like this? I've had crushes before, but this feels more than that. It feels dark and dangerous. But it has to be all on my side. No way a guy like him would let himself get into an affair with a student. Especially one that has to cheat.
Whoa. Where did that thought come from? There's no way neither he nor I would want to actually explore something sexual – hot fantasies aside. Besides, he's given me no indication that he's even open to an arrangement like that. This is how those teacher crush movies start. The ones where the students become obsessed and end up killing someone in order to be with their "true love."
There is no way in hell that will ever be me. Shaking my head, I look up again at Professor Richards. His expression is neutral. Nothing about him even hints at having any sort of licentious thoughts. Yep. It's all on me. All of this. This stupid infatuation, this belief that I'd even make it in a school like this, belief that I could escape my parents. All of it. Maybe when I go back home, I can sneak away to visit a shrink. That's what I need. A few visits with a head doctor and I'll be right as rain.
"Well then?" He takes another sip, and I forcibly turn away. "If you have anything to say in your defense, now is the time to say it. Once we go behind those doors, your fate at this school will be sealed."
"What can I say?"
"You can start with the truth." He lowers his leg and spreads his knees before planting both elbows into his thighs and leaning down.
Unable to help myself, I steal a glance over at his crotch before he leans over. Shock zips through me. He has a prominent bulge. Oh hell. Moisture drains away from my throat, and I cough for a moment, trying to clear my throat. Wetness gathers at the juncture of my thighs, making me squirm a bit more. Maybe this isn't all one-sided? Has he been actively flirting with me? My mind races through any memory I can find. He's exacting and sometimes harsh, but he's never been inappropriate, at least not in a way that I can tell. His tongue slides out to lick his bottom lip before quirking up into a smirk. Dear God. Did he catch me looking? Heat gathers at my throat and races up my face.
"Cat got your tongue?" He looks back down at his wristwatch and frowns. "You had about ten minutes to plead your case, and you're now down to eight. Or is it that you have no defense? You cheated because it's the thing to do?" Professor Richards leans back in his chair. "I must say, though, it was pure genius. I've never once had a student pull that off. You almost got away with it, too."
"What gave me away?" I glance back down at his crotch. Definitely a bulge. And unless he's just huge, he's definitely hard. I look up in time to see his lopsided grin. Again, my insides flip. After locking his gaze with mine for a few moments, he looks down at what captured my attention. The grin turns into a full, bared smile. At that moment, he looks every inch a predator set to devour me. Instead of trying to conceal anything, he spreads his legs even wider, slides his hips forward just a touch. But he remains silent, drawing no attention to the situation brewing between us.
Tension crackles as we enter a staredown. Who is going to move first? Unfortunately, it's me. His gaze is just too hard, too unflinching for me to stay under his scrutiny. Looking to the side, I lick my lips and mentally prepare my defense. Should I try to be seductive and hope that he's actually trying to entice me? No. That would be too dangerous. If I hope to plead my case, I don't need him telling the dean that I'm trying to convince him to break school rules. But what else can I do? I have no real defense.