“Emily, it’s not like that. I didn’t—”
She steps toward me and gets in my face. “I didn’t tell you that to use against him. I can’t fucking believe you think you have the right to level a guy like Carter. Because that’s what you did. You flatlined him. He was withdrawn before, always with his guard up since that shit with Josh. This was the first time in a long time he seemed like the old Carter, and then you went and stabbed him in the back.” She turns, clutching her books against her chest in one hand, and pointing at her back with the other. “Is there anything there? Because it feels like someone shoved a knife in my back the other night. Oh, right. That was you.”
That’s it. I drop my books on a nearby table and walk over to her. I’m not taking shit from anyone anymore. I poke her chest, which is probably a death wish. Her icy blue eyes widen in shock, but I don’t remove my finger. “What’s your problem? You don’t know shit about what’s going on between Carter and me. Don’t pretend you do! You were pissed at me before that happened.”
“You are so stupid!” She fists her hands at her sides and lets out a rush of air from between her teeth. “He likes you! Carter is so totally into you, and you’re blind.”
I blink and step back, staring at my finger as it falls through the air. “What? No, he doesn’t”
“You’re an idiot. The guy is into you and you treat him like shit stuck to y
our shoe. You don’t deserve him.” Her nostrils flare and as I look at her, I can see it.
I step back and feel horrible. My defenses come crashing down because I finally get it. “You like him.”
She sneers at me, and jerks back like I slapped her. “Me? No?” She stutters, fumbling her words and then goes on the offensive again. “I’m just watching out for a guy that’s been bitchslapped by life one too many times. He didn’t deserve it!” She’s breathing rapidly when the professor walks out the room and stops.
“Is everything all right here?” He’s an older guy with snowy hair and a round body. The skin on his face hangs in long flaps and forms dangly jowls. His arms are full, and his briefcase is about to fall out of the crook of his arm. A half empty coffee cup tilts too far to the side, threatening to spill. Professor Dade is a great lecturer, but he’s always dropping things.
Emily rearranges some of the items perched on top of his briefcase. “There, that should stay until you get to your office. We’re fine. Just girl stuff. Kerry has her period, and cramps made her bitchy, so she—“
Prof Dade shakes his head and steps back like Emily doused him with acid. “All right then. As long as you two have it handled.” He walks away in a hurry without looking back.
Emily smiles as he leaves. She likes Dade and is protective of him. I’ve heard her defending him when other students are ridiculing him. Emily is good like that.
“You’re right. I was a bitch. I’m trying to figure out how much shit to take from people, new and old, and I went too far with Carter. But I don’t understand why you got mad.”
She tenses. “It was a dumb move, modeling like that.”
“Emily, it’s part of the world we live in. I’ve never had an issue with it, so why should I be all prude with it now?”
She shakes her head and works her jaw for a moment. She glances down the hallway and sees Quinn slip into a lecture hall. “Not here, okay. I’ll tell you later.” She blinks rapidly, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think those were tears.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I can handle anything, remember? Just fix things with Carter, okay?”
“I will. I promise.”
She smirks. “Yeah, how are you going to do it?”
“I have no idea.”
Chapter 7
I text Carter, but he doesn’t reply. I’m going to have to go to his dorm room, and I need more than a simple apology. On my way across campus, after my classes are over for the day, Josh falls in step with me and drapes an arm over my shoulder. “Hey, babe! How’s the rebound sex coming?” He laughs at his pun.
I shake him off. “None of your business.”
“You didn’t hook up with anyone yet? That’s absurd. You’re gorgeous.”
I stop and glare at him. “That just turns me on more.” Josh offers a sexy smile and winks at me. He’s wearing a light blue button-down shirt with perfectly-pressed light-colored khakis.
Ignoring him, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“Do I look good?”
“Do you always need your ego stroked?”