Shame (Ruin 3)

“Lisa, a moment of your time.”

Funny how some sentences can sound so innocent, right? A moment? Is a moment — some time with your professor after being late — totally normal? But that one sentence wasn’t normal. Had I known how abnormal it was, I would have never turned around.

That was my first mistake.

Turning around and meeting his steely gaze.

Taking that first step in his direction, not knowing that in a few short months, I’d be helpless against his pull. Defenseless.

I stopped in front of the table in the front of the class and sighed. “Yes?”

Up close, he was prettier than he’d been from far away. I almost lost my nerve but met his gaze straightforward as if I didn’t realize he was beautiful, as if I wasn’t terrified of that same beauty and the intensity behind it.

“Sit,” he ordered.

I would have plopped on the floor had a chair not been right beside me. He demanded obedience, and, for some reason, I felt like I owed it to him.

I had no idea how true it was.

How I owed him more than obedience. My very soul.

“I expect students to be on time.” He folded his hands in front of his chest and leaned against the desk, his head cocked to the side, his grin friendly yet… distant. “Is that going to be a problem in the future?” His smile dropped briefly as his eyes darted away almost in disgust. “For someone like you?” His gaze returned, heated, then went completely cold.

Stunned, I could only stare in response. Was he serious? Someone like me? What did that even mean? Finding my voice, I answered, “You mean a sophomore like me?”

“No…” His jaw clenched. “…I meant it exactly how it sounded.”

“Well.” I cleared my throat and found a shred of confidence, probably the last bit I had for the day before I broke down and cried. “It sounded like you were implying that I was different than any other student here, and, I can assure you, I’m as normal as they come.”

“I’m sorry to be the only person willing to tell you the truth,” he said slowly. His full lips bared another smile, but it wasn’t kind. It was mocking. You know that feeling you get when someone stares at you, and it’s almost like you have no clothes on at all? But instead of it being out of lust, it’s total disgust? That was the look he was giving me, like I had no business being in school, like I had no business breathing the same air.

I’d never felt more cheap than I did in that moment, and I was fully clothed, a rarity for someone of my old profession. Designers had made me feel beautiful, my friends had made me feel flawless, and this man had stripped every bit of confidence with one mocking grin.

“You’re a bit of a celebrity around here, Lisa.”

I looked down.

“So…” His right foot tapped against the ground. “…I know it must be difficult to fit in, but the later you are, the more attention you command. Do you understand what I’m saying? If you truly desired to blend in…” His voice trailed off.

“I’d be on time.” My voice wavered as I blinked back tears. “I swear it won’t happen again. I lifted my head. “I had an issue with my mailbox again, and then the girl wasn’t being very helpful, and I forgot breakfast and—”

He held up his hand. “I don’t need your excuses or justifications. I just need your attendance and focus for the next semester. Think you can handle that?”

I took a step back and nodded.

“Good.” He stood, towering over me. His shoulders relaxed but only slightly. A piece of copper hair fell across his eyebrow, giving him a boyish look, though he exuded nothing but anger and sensuality. I was loath to admit that last part because he was such a jackass. “You may leave now.”

Had Gabe been there, he probably would have been up in the professor’s face. Even Wes wouldn’t have stood for it, and Wes didn’t even like killing spiders. Respect was huge for them, and this guy was using his authority in all the wrong ways, throwing his weight around like I was nothing more than an annoyance.

“Lisa?” Professor Blake’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“Right.” I clamped my mouth shut even though I wanted to talk back The last thing I needed was to get in trouble or not pass my classes; they were all I had. If I didn’t focus on school, I’d focus on the stalker or even my past. Both of those were out. I couldn’t go there, refused to even dwell on it. “Thanks, Professor, for your… um, advice.”

He seemed surprised; his face scrunched up a bit before he coughed into his hand and turned away.

Somehow my response had made him uncomfortable. I just didn’t know why.