Page 35 of Until We Meet Again

Heading back down the stairs, I find a quiet spot in a corner. I lean against the wall, taking a moment to collect my thoughts, feeling a little more drunk as the time passes.

Looking around, I see a group of half-naked people playing beer pong and a couple heavily making out in another corner of the room. I can't help but wish I were back in my bedroom as my mind becomes consumed by a single thought—Zane—except now I'm mad.

Mad that he ever messaged me on that dumb app.

Mad that he took me for coffee.

Mad that he ever kissed me and set my soul on fire.

Mad that he's my teacher and as distant as a star in the night sky.

And now I'm just a mad, semi-drunk girl who shouldn't be allowed a phone.

I take out my phone from my back pocket and begin typing him a text. Even though I deleted his number, I couldn't bring myself to delete his messages, which I'll kick myself for tomorrow because it's given me this opportunity to reach out and tell him exactly what's on my mind.

T: If you had a problem with my work today, Professor, maybe you should've dealt with it instead of kicking everyone out of class. Do you know how rude that was? I spent hours trying to write that, just for you to act like an ass about it. P.S. Screw you and your dumb assignment.

Chapter 16

Zane

The poem Tessa wrote started a fire within me that quickly grew into a raging inferno, and I lost all ability to teach. Something that's never happened in my entire career and something I don't feel particularly proud of. She's screwed me up, I feel completely mind-fucked, and I have no idea what to do about it.

I'll never allow myself to fall in love, but damn, this girl is doing something to me that I can't stop. It's not love, I know that, but this attraction issomethingentirely different. Maybe it's because I want her so much, paired with the fact that I can't have her, that sends my hunger into overdrive.

Then explain that first kiss, dumbass, the one before she became your student.

The only thing I do understand right now is that she holds power over me, and I want to fight it just as much as I want to surrender to it.

I'm in bed wearing nothing but sweatpants after taking a long shower. I've got a glass of bourbon in one hand and Tessa's poem in the other. I find myself obsessively pouring over her words, consumed by the depth of raw, unfiltered emotion that hits me with each new line.

P.S. Do you still miss me?

That final line hit a nerve inside me in ways I can't explain.

After subjecting myself to some self-inflicted suffering, I set the poem on the nightstand and switch it for my book, but before I can open it, my phone buzzes with a notification.

Tessa.

T: If you had a problem with my work today, Professor, maybe you should've dealt with it instead of kicking everyone out of class. Do you know how rude that was? I spent hours trying to write that, just for you to act like an ass about it. P.S. Screw you and your stupid assignment.

Fuck that.

I immediately hit call without giving it a second thought. She lets the call ring out, but I don't care how long it takes because she will talk to me tonight.

Z: Answer the phone, Tessa.

I give her just ten seconds before I press the call button again. The rings seem to go on forever when finally she picks up.

"What do you want, Zane?"

You. Just you.

"You said no more messages, Tessa."

"That also includes phone calls."

"You reached out to me, sweetheart, not the other way around. I've left you alone." All I can really hear is music, shouting, and laughter in the background.

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