to him?”
“Oh, I’m going to give it to him,” Cassie vows.
I start laughing again.
“Hey, I’m not reading any more of this to you if you keep this up.”
“That’s probably a good thing.” I wheeze. “People are starting to look at me weird. I think they might call the nurse.” I take three deep breaths before asking, “Did you really write that?”
I’m referring to her lethal counterattack—the worst poem I’ve ever heard.
“Hell yes I wrote this! And you know that big, ugly trunk by my bed? It’s full of them. He has no idea who he’s fucking with.”
I can’t help but smile. Cassie’s about to unleash the most horrifying and disturbing thing in her arsenal: the poetry she wrote in high school. “I can just imagine you writing that on the floor of your bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights off.”
“Hey, I lit a candle. There was always a candle. And I didn’t have curtains, babe. Just blinds.” She pauses. “And of course they were drawn.”
“Of course,” I laugh. I’m still laughing when I feel someone tap my shoulder.
I shriek, dropping the phone.
“Laura,” the voice soothes. A second hand comes to my shoulder. I shudder as the unbidden feeling consumes me.
It used to be like this. Every day I’d wait for it. When it didn’t come, I’d feel empty. Dead. I thought I was over it. I thought I could move past it. But I can’t. After feeling you like this, I’ve realized that I’ve waited for you every day—that I’ve felt dead since that day you so cruelly ripped out my heart and walked away.
The arms shake me. “Laura?”
I blink. The voice isn’t right. There’s no accent. It’s not as deep or soft. I gaze up into Professor Cade’s face.
I shake my head and the spell that had temporarily consumed me dissolves. “Sorry…I…”
“No I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, but I’ve been looking all over for you and when you didn’t answer…”
I look down. “It’s alright.” As my eyes are on the floor, I see my phone. “Oh shit! Cassie!” I drop to my knees, snatch the phone and smash it so hard into the side of my head that I wince.
“LAURA? LAURA? WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU OKAY? LAURA?”
“Cass, it’s me,” I yell.
“LAURA? ARE YOU OKAY?”
“I’m fine. I just…” I glance at Professor Cade. “Someone startled me is all.”
“Oh shit, Laura. I was so freaked out. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
I groan as I stand.
“Oh God, did you hurt something?”
“No, I’m just really out of shape,” I admit.
“Are you sure you’re okay, because—”
I glance at Professor Cade. “Cass, I have to talk to someone. I’ll call you back, okay?” After I get her reluctant consent, I hang up the phone.
Professor Cade tilts his head, smiling. “You have a really good friend there.”
“I know.” I drop the phone into my purse. “So, you wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Yeah, it’s good I found you. Can you step into my office for a moment?”
I raise a brow. This is a little strange. “Is something going on with Bruigh na Boinne ?”
“Not exactly.”
He starts walking and I fall into step beside him. “Um…I didn’t miss an assignment or anything, did I?”
He turns the corner and fishes for his keys. “No, nothing bad Laura. It’s good news.”
“Well, that’s good,” I whisper.
He opens the door to his office and I walk in.
Professor Cade’s place is kind of like him—eclectic, sexy and comforting. Three cacti grow on the windowsill. Jars of broken pieces of pottery he picked up in South America are lined up on a woven Indonesian tapestry. On the wall that isn’t taken over by bookshelves, a print of one of Picasso’s famous blue paintings hangs next to that iconic poster of Bob Marley.
I jump as he shuts the door. “Sit down.”
I do, taking my time. “You’re kinda freaking me out Mr. Cade.”
He sits at his desk in front of me and folds his hands. “I don’t mean to
“Oh, I’m going to give it to him,” Cassie vows.
I start laughing again.
“Hey, I’m not reading any more of this to you if you keep this up.”
“That’s probably a good thing.” I wheeze. “People are starting to look at me weird. I think they might call the nurse.” I take three deep breaths before asking, “Did you really write that?”
I’m referring to her lethal counterattack—the worst poem I’ve ever heard.
“Hell yes I wrote this! And you know that big, ugly trunk by my bed? It’s full of them. He has no idea who he’s fucking with.”
I can’t help but smile. Cassie’s about to unleash the most horrifying and disturbing thing in her arsenal: the poetry she wrote in high school. “I can just imagine you writing that on the floor of your bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights off.”
“Hey, I lit a candle. There was always a candle. And I didn’t have curtains, babe. Just blinds.” She pauses. “And of course they were drawn.”
“Of course,” I laugh. I’m still laughing when I feel someone tap my shoulder.
I shriek, dropping the phone.
“Laura,” the voice soothes. A second hand comes to my shoulder. I shudder as the unbidden feeling consumes me.
It used to be like this. Every day I’d wait for it. When it didn’t come, I’d feel empty. Dead. I thought I was over it. I thought I could move past it. But I can’t. After feeling you like this, I’ve realized that I’ve waited for you every day—that I’ve felt dead since that day you so cruelly ripped out my heart and walked away.
The arms shake me. “Laura?”
I blink. The voice isn’t right. There’s no accent. It’s not as deep or soft. I gaze up into Professor Cade’s face.
I shake my head and the spell that had temporarily consumed me dissolves. “Sorry…I…”
“No I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, but I’ve been looking all over for you and when you didn’t answer…”
I look down. “It’s alright.” As my eyes are on the floor, I see my phone. “Oh shit! Cassie!” I drop to my knees, snatch the phone and smash it so hard into the side of my head that I wince.
“LAURA? LAURA? WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU OKAY? LAURA?”
“Cass, it’s me,” I yell.
“LAURA? ARE YOU OKAY?”
“I’m fine. I just…” I glance at Professor Cade. “Someone startled me is all.”
“Oh shit, Laura. I was so freaked out. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
I groan as I stand.
“Oh God, did you hurt something?”
“No, I’m just really out of shape,” I admit.
“Are you sure you’re okay, because—”
I glance at Professor Cade. “Cass, I have to talk to someone. I’ll call you back, okay?” After I get her reluctant consent, I hang up the phone.
Professor Cade tilts his head, smiling. “You have a really good friend there.”
“I know.” I drop the phone into my purse. “So, you wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Yeah, it’s good I found you. Can you step into my office for a moment?”
I raise a brow. This is a little strange. “Is something going on with Bruigh na Boinne ?”
“Not exactly.”
He starts walking and I fall into step beside him. “Um…I didn’t miss an assignment or anything, did I?”
He turns the corner and fishes for his keys. “No, nothing bad Laura. It’s good news.”
“Well, that’s good,” I whisper.
He opens the door to his office and I walk in.
Professor Cade’s place is kind of like him—eclectic, sexy and comforting. Three cacti grow on the windowsill. Jars of broken pieces of pottery he picked up in South America are lined up on a woven Indonesian tapestry. On the wall that isn’t taken over by bookshelves, a print of one of Picasso’s famous blue paintings hangs next to that iconic poster of Bob Marley.
I jump as he shuts the door. “Sit down.”
I do, taking my time. “You’re kinda freaking me out Mr. Cade.”
He sits at his desk in front of me and folds his hands. “I don’t mean to
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