Page 19 of Revere
Pressing my palms to the asphalt, I push to stand.
“You’re bleeding.” Violet’s eyes drop to the red stains blooming at my knees.
I brush my hands on my thighs. “It’s a small cut. I’ll be fine.”
Violet glances up at Kole, who looks like he believes me less than she does.
“I fell wrong. That’s all. I’m okay. See?” I take a step and smile, hoping I mask the sharp pain that shoots up my side. “I barely slept last night, and I’m a little clumsy. Let’s go, and I’ll clean up at the apartment.”
“If you say so.” Violet frowns, following Kole back to the car.
He doesn’t let go of her hand as they cross traffic this time. And he doesn’t leave her side until he shuts the car door behind her.
I climb into the backseat, thankful the music overtakes any conversation. And I don’t know what hurts more, that my knees still throb, or that after everything, my brother and I aren’t any closer to escaping our family than we were back then. I might be here for the summer, but I’ll be back in Bristal soon enough. And Alex is back with Sigma Sin.
No matter how far we run, we can never really hide.
In the shadows, the cross of my family will always loom over me.
7
IF THAT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPY
PATIENCE
My irritation levelis at its peak when I step into Professor Gray’s class. I didn’t sleep well last night, and every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was a giant cross looming over me. My knees still ache from hitting the pavement, and no amount of bandaging or pain medication has helped. All these years later, and I’m still an open wound.
That realization festers. Eats at my nerves.
No amount of defenses is enough. I’m still so breakable.
Shoving through a group of people crowding the door to the classroom, I get more than one frown and a nasty glare aimed in my direction.
“Excuse us.” Violet’s voice is sweet as she attempts to smooth over the attitude I’m leaving in my wake.
I used to be much better at pretending I’m sweet. Pretending I’m okay. This past year, I’ve been slipping.
As I break through the mass of people near the door, I spot Professor Gray at the front of the room. He’s as relaxed as ever, leaning back in his chair with one ankle resting on his opposite knee. An open book sits on the desk in front of him, but he’s focusing on a conversation with his teaching assistant, Sophia.She’s sitting on his desk, tracing her long, red nail over the lines in the wood while she smiles at him.
Something she says makes Professor Gray grin, and it’s blinding. Perfect.Irritating.
He rakes his dark hair back, and his gaze drifts, catching me staring at him.
Crap.
I divert my eyes in time to hear Sophia giggle, and I avoid looking at them as I make my way to my seat. Still, from the corner of my eye, I spot her stretching out her long, tan legs so he can get a good view of them, and for some ridiculous reason, I hate that she’s flaunting herself in front of him.
Even more than that, I hate that shecan.
Unlike me, her skin is smooth. Not one scar or mark. Nothing to explain or be ashamed of.
Violet and I opt for seats in the middle of the classroom. I learned from the first session that the front row won’t be an option during this program. Having Professor Gray close enough to smell his cologne every time he paces in front of the class is distracting. And it makes it too easy for me to start thinking of him as the stranger I met on the plane instead of someone who is off-limits.
My teacher.
Twice my age.
In the past few days, I’ve recited the list of reasons to keep my distance a hundred times. At some point, I’m bound to start believing it.
