Page 85 of Drown Like Heaven
I nodded.
Dr. Killshaw walked a few paces ahead of me out of the study space, through the hallway with the elevators to the other side, then turned down the corridor and pushed open the last door on the left.Micah Killshaw, Ph.D., M.S., Professor of Chemical Engineeringwas on a plaque next to the door. If I’d ever walked back here, I would’ve seen it. But I didn’t really have any reason to be in this hallway.
He stepped back to let me walk past him into the office.
“Just shut the door behind you when you leave. No need to lock it.”
I nodded again.
So strange of him to offer. So stupid of me to accept.
I’ve always been weak, though. Begging for scraps.
He lingered in the doorway for a moment too long, strong fingers flexing on the knob. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at him. His voice was low and steady when he spoke again, cutting through to the heart of me.
“Nobody knows how to take care of you, do they?” he murmured, almost to himself more than to me. “And you’ll never let anyone try.”
Dr. Killshaw pulled the door shut, leaving me inside on my own before I could answer.
I was frozen, all my muscles stiff.
And you’ll never let anyone try.
Why would he say that? How could he see through me so well?
It reminded me so exactly of Mason that I had to force all the thoughts away before they consumed me. It was almost exactlywhat he’d said to me in his car before he suffocated me with his palm.
Dr. Killshaw’s office wasn’t large or especially fancy, but it was nice. There was a couch with the godforsaken polygon-printed fabric on it, but I assumed he hadn’t picked out most of the furniture in the room. A window on the right side of the room was dimmed by a rolldown shade, and his desk was neat, some filing cabinets and shelves sitting behind it.
He had all his diplomas hanging on the wall, and I stepped closer to look at them. Bachelor’s, Master’s, Doctorate. I had zero plans to take my chemical engineering schooling beyond these four years, but it was interesting that some people did.
Looking at the graduation years, I worked out that he must’ve been around thirty-four. He hadn’t taken much of a break between the degrees.
There weren’t any photos on his desk, or any personal items I could see beyond the framed diplomas.
It was soweirdbeing in here, especially after the way he’d ignored me.
I wasn’t sure if him suggesting I come rest in here was inappropriate or not. Maybe he was just being a nice, concerned teacher. Not like I’d be able to tell the difference.
Nobody knows how to take care of you…
It smelled faintly of the scent I’d come to associate with him—the one that reminded me of Mason in a way, because I couldn’t describe it correctly. It was similar to Mason’s, but not thesame.
I set my bag on the ground, then laid down on the couch on my side, my legs tucked up and my head on the stiff pillow, polyester fabric against my cheek. My thumb slid over the cracked screen of my phone, setting an alarm so I’d wake up in time to not miss my next class—and to ensure I’d get out of here before Dr. Killshaw came back.
My eyes were tired, my sore body sinking into the couch as sleep pulled at my mind, pulled me under its soft waves.
?????
I blinked my eyelids open, everything blurry and dim, some unknown noise having just startled me from sleep. Lifting my head from the pillow, I sat up quickly, looking around the clean office. What time was it? The sun seemed to be coming into the room at the wrong angle.
I glanced around until I found my phone sitting on the side table next to the couch, my alarm going off on the screen—completely silently. I grappled for my phone, fingers trembling.Great. My next class was about half-over now. I decided just to miss it altogether.
By the time my mind had become lucid enough to realize the sound that’d woken me up wasthe door handle turning, it was too late.
The door to the office swung open and I heard two voices, one in the hall and one belonging to Dr. Killshaw as he entered. I whipped my head around, tugging at the hem of my shirt and trying to run my fingers through my hair to smooth it. My heart started beating hard and uneven, my body feeling shaky. I hated that I was waking up to this.
“That’s what I was telling him,” the hallway voice said.
