“Then why’d he change his mind?”
“I don’t know.” A swarm of students headed inside—even the smokers were going in. “I have to go to class. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“Because I can’t.”
I started for the door, but turned around to walk backward. “What do you mean?”
“He called me from a disposable phone. It’s not in use anymore.” I could see the wheels start to turn as he spoke. His gaze went to my hands, which were empty, then shifted to my book bag.
“No.” I shook my head, stopping before I hit the door.
“You have his real number. He doesn’t give that out.”
I reached behind me, finding the door handle. “Apparently with good reason.” My hand tightened around the handle. “And no, you can’t use mine.”
“Come on…”
I gave him a look.
He trailed off, his shoulders dropping in a sigh. “Fine. Okay.”
“I have class. If you want, I’ll brainstorm new jobs with you.”
“New jobs?” He lifted a hand to scratch his head.
“You know, so you’ll stop with the gambling stuff. Because you know I hate it.”
“Uh…” He bit his lip and glanced around. “I think you’re going to be late for class.” He gestured behind me. “You should get going. We’ll talk later, maybe this weekend.” He began backing away.
I waited, watching him go. No matter which side he was on—taking the bets or making the bets—it was all the same to me. Same world. A dangerous world. I repressed a sigh. Jason would never stop. He’d just stop being honest with me about it.
But at the moment he was right. I needed to get to class. I was a few minutes late, but I slipped into one of the back chairs unnoticed. Or I thought I was unnoticed. I looked to the front of the room to find Jeremy Fuller, the TA from yesterday’s class, leading this one as well. He had the syllabus projected on the wall and pointed at it as he ran through what was expected of students.
Without interrupting his speech, he grabbed a piece of paper and began walking toward me. He was explaining which textbooks were approved for the class when he placed the sheet of paper on my desk. Glad to see you made it, he’d written. My cheeks warmed, and I glanced up. He’d moved on to the criteria for an A grade, but he winked at me as he headed back to the front of the room. A couple of girls next to me witnessed the exchange, and I could feel their speculative gazes.
But whatever. I didn’t think their attention was academically rooted. I looked over and one girl was still glaring at me. That was definitely not academic jealousy. Jeremy Fuller was good looking. I’d noticed it yesterday too, but he was the TA. I wasn’t one of those girls who signed up to screw the TA for a better grade. Glaring Girl did not have to worry. At all.
I ignored her, and eventually she turned her heated looks back to the TA. When class was over, I grabbed my stuff to make a quick getaway. I felt like Jeremy might try to talk to me afterwards. Maybe I should’ve stayed and apologized for being late, but I didn’t want to draw any more attention.
I was almost in the clear when I heard my name behind me. “Taylor.”
I cringed and turned around, pushing back against the stream of students leaving around me. Jeremy waved me back into the class, and I could see the glaring girl waiting beside him. Of course. Gritting my teeth, I went back inside, but stood next to the wall. I didn’t want to step any closer. I didn’t want to fight. Not with her. Not with anyone. I just wanted to go to school and move on with my life.
“Glad you came today.” Jeremy handed something to another student and spoke to me, reaching for his bag. He began putting his remaining papers and books in there.
The girl cleared her throat, slinking up right next to his table. “Jeremy?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, Sarah. I didn’t see you there.”
She didn’t look amused. Her eyes grew flat, but her smile didn’t slip a notch. “I was hoping to ask about the Honors Study Group. I heard you were leading it this year?”
“Oh.” His eyes shifted to me, then back to her. “You know that’s only open to students in the top two percent of their classes. You…” He faltered, letting out a small sigh. His hand curled around his bag strap. “You know you’re not in that two percent.”
She stepped back as if he’d hit her. Her sultry smile disappeared. I expected her to snap, but all she did was murmur, “Oh, okay.” She hung her head and pulled her hands away from the table. “I’ll just have to get there then.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice cheery. He cleared his throat, glancing to me again. “We can see where you are after midterms. We add new students mid-semester anyway.”
“Okay.” She peeked back at him, a glimmer of a new smile wafting over her face. “Thank you, Jeremy.”
“Uh, sure.” He moved back from the table, holding his bag in front of him like a shield. “If you don’t mind, Sarah…” He nodded in my direction. “I need to talk to the new transfer.”
She looked at me, and the transformation was remarkable. Her eyes chilled. Her smile remained, but it became menacing. And I swear the room grew cold. A shiver moved up my arms, but I refused to cross them over my chest. I lifted my chin as she continued to look at me.
Her eyes narrowed.
So did mine.