Teacher's Pet (The Shadows of Darkness Universe #2)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Anastasia

S pokehaven University.

My one shot at doing something right in my life.

College is my last opportunity to reshape everything, to make something of myself.

To be better than the person I was just a few months ago.

For most people, Spokehaven is nothing more than an overpriced ticket away from home, a golden pass to escape the watchful eyes of parents with deep pockets, a path straight into endless parties and cheap thrills.

But there was once a time when college was a ticket for me too.

A chance at a full-ride scholarship in nursing, the dream of becoming someone I could be proud of, alongside Cole, my high school sweetheart. He had his athletic scholarship, and I had my academic one. Together, we were supposed to make our parents proud, to live the perfect college life.

The reality of how it all fell apart still haunts me. Finding an excuse to explain why Cole and I split up was torturous. My parents loved him, probably more than they cared to admit.

And for a while, I thought I loved him too.

If it weren’t for the shit he had on me and my dad’s cancer diagnosis, I would’ve gladly told them how on the night of prom Cole dumped a gallon of cum in my best friend, completely shattering any vision I had for that evening.

That night was never supposed to go the way it did.

But now Cole and Erica strut around this campus like royalty. You wouldn’t even guess I once confided in both of them, shared my deepest secrets. The way they look through me now, it’s like I don’t even exist to them.

"You're glaring," Elijah remarks, his voice light but knowing.

I tug my hoodie down, shifting to get a better look at him. It’s obvious he put more effort into getting dressed this morning than I did. He’s rocking bright baby blue overalls and a Nirvana tee, though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t actually listen to them. His chest is covered in an array of pins, each one a little louder than the last. His wild, red curls are tamed under a bright blue beanie, and the whole look screams his carefree, eclectic style.

"It’s like fifty degrees out," I scoff, taking my time to really study his outfit.

He grins, not missing a beat. "I forgot that gives everyone the perfect excuse to dress like they raided Goodwill’s dumpster," he mocks, giving me a playful nudge.

"I have clothes on under the hoodie," I snap, the annoyance creeping in.

Elijah doesn’t seem to notice as he casually plops down next to me on the bench, closing the gap between us until there’s barely any room left.

"Do you know why I started talking to you, Ana?" he asks, his voice softer now, though he deliberately avoids using my full name.

God, I absolutely hate it when people call me Anastasia. It feels like a name reserved for someone who’s got their shit together, someone who isn’t a complete screw-up.

I tug at my hair, irritated, and swat Elijah’s hand away.

"Gingers gotta stick together," he jokes, and finally, a smile cracks through.

Despite the drama and his over-the-top fashion choices, Elijah is one of the few people I can call a real friend, someone who never judges me, even when he probably should. I remember on my first day here, Elijah picked me out in the back of the classroom and launched into a lecture about who the hottest guys were in our classes. I played along, mostly because my mind was still tangled up in thoughts of Cole. But over the past few days, something shifted. I found myself seeking out Elijah more and more, eventually inviting him back to my dorm to meet Megan.

Other than Elijah, she’s really the only person I can tolerate here. Megan has dark olive skin, short black hair, and a quiet confidence. She moved here from Taiwan when she was three, meeting her stepdad soon after.

Calling her a genius feels like an understatement.

Sometimes, when I catch her glancing over my homework, I wonder if she questions why I’m even in college.

"Who are we glaring at?" Megan asks as she joins us, settling into our usual spot under the willow tree outside the creative wing of campus.

Spokehaven is a true architectural marvel. Years older than most universities, the campus is one massive structure, split into wings, with large glass windows and a gothic aesthetic that gives it a haunting yet majestic charm. It’s the kind of place you can’t help but marvel at, even if you don’t want to.

With its small student population, Spokehaven is as exclusive as they come, reserved mostly for the rich and the future neurosurgeons, the ones with the kind of ambition that doesn’t bother with morals.

My dad used to work here before he got sick, teaching physics. He helped me get my foot in the door, but the deal was clear; I had to stay out of trouble.

If the administration at Spokehaven ever found out what Cole knows, I’d be out on my ass faster than I could blink. Or worse, I'd end up behind bars.

That’s Cole’s only leverage over me.

And it's my only leverage over him.

What really happened the night I found out about him and Erica?

As much as I want to blame everything on a messy breakup, I know the truth.

It’s not just about that.

Deep down, I’m terrified of what will happen if Cole decides he’s done protecting my secret.

No one will believe me.

No one will believe he was there.

No one will believe he was the one behind the wheel.

It’s his word against mine.

And he knows how much power that gives him.

"No one," I shrug, trying to act casual as if I wasn’t staring at Cole from a distance.

Megan follows the path of my eyes, quickly piecing together who I was really looking for.

"I don’t know why you bother," she mutters, her voice tinged with annoyance. "He’s a cheating bastard."

Elijah, always the one to add his two cents, chimes in, "He’s not exactly someone I’d call fuckable."

If only I were so observant because of jealousy.

I know he saw the same headline I did in Spokehaven’s paper last week. He may act like it doesn’t bother him, but it’s only a matter of time before the cops start sniffing around this campus.

The question is, who will they come for first? Cole? Or me?

"Trust me," I snap, sliding off the top of the table. "What Cole considers sex is far from fucking."

Cole has tan skin, bright brown eyes, and curly hair that rests on his shoulders. To some, he might look like a perfect candidate for a Nike ad.

But as gorgeous as he is on the outside, the way he treats women in bed is borderline criminal.

His idea of a good time? Head pushing and a hell of a lot of blowjobs. The second he’s done with you, kiss your orgasm goodbye.

"Do you even know what fucking is?" Elijah asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Of course she does," Megan replies, swatting Elijah’s arm with a grin. "Not everyone is an encyclopedia on who has the best dick on campus."

I point at Megan, nodding in agreement. "What that lovely woman over there said."

Elijah laughs and grins, wrapping his arms around both of us as we make our way toward the art wing. "Don’t be mad because I get more than both of you."

We bump into each other as we laugh, a rare moment of lightness in the middle of all the chaos.

"Are we doing movies at your dorm tonight?" Elijah asks, grinning like a kid with a secret.

Every Friday night, without fail, Elijah shows up at mine and Megan's dorm with an armful of old movies, ready to "educate" us on what real cinema looks like. Last week, he made us sit through Mean Girls , insisting that Regina George was basically Erica, as if comparing the two would somehow make me feel better about her and Cole.

Unlike Regina, running Erica over with a bus would not be considered a socially acceptable solution to my problems.

I almost wonder if Erica somehow makes Regina look like a decent human being.

"It is Friday," I sigh, reluctantly conceding. "But I swear to God, if you try to make me sit through another one of those bitchy teen comedies-"

Suddenly, someone collides with my shoulder, cutting me off mid-sentence. The jolt makes Megan and Elijah stumble, and Elijah spins around, ready to snap at the person who just crashed into us.

"Hey, you dipshit-"

But then I see who it is.

Cole.

Elijah’s words die in his throat, his mouth snapping shut as Cole’s gaze sweeps over me. He smirks, clearly amused by how flustered I am. He looks down at me with that all-too-familiar air of authority. I rub my arm, instinctively keeping a safe distance from him.

"Anastasia," he says, his voice dripping with acknowledgment.

I tense up. Fuck, I hate when he calls me by my full name.

Maybe that’s why I’m so adamant about people calling me Ana.

"Cole," I mutter, avoiding his gaze as I look around for Erica. He catches my distraction and smirks knowingly.

"She’s already in class. I just walked her there," he says, his tone almost accusing. "I think you have a class with her this semester. But I’m sure you already knew that."

"Is there something you want, Cole?" Elijah asks, his voice laced with sass. "Or can you move on and learn how to walk without bumping into people?" He stands with his hand propped on his hip, exuding an air of challenge.

Cole smirks at the nasty glances Megan and Elijah throw his way, then leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. The proximity sends chills down my spine, and I can't stop myself from trembling as he lingers too close.

"You think they’d still be defending you if they knew your secrets like I do, Anastasia?" His voice is a low taunt, and my heart stutters in my chest.

Now I know he’s seen the article.

Fighting every urge to walk away, my body betrays me the second his lips touch my ear. I feel the burn of his presence, the weight of his words. I want to scream at him… maybe even push him away, but instead, I act on instinct.

With a sharp motion, I slap my hand across his face.

Cole stumbles back, clutching his reddened cheek, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and anger.

"I told you to stay the hell away from me," I hiss, my voice cold. "Let that be a warning."

I grab Megan and Elijah, pulling them with me as we continue walking, leaving Cole to stew in his own self-pity.

"I’ll remember that, Anastasia," he calls after us, but I don’t turn around.

"What the hell was that about?" Elijah whispers, his concern evident.

"Nothing," I say with a smile, trying to reassure them both.

But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

Anything involving Cole is never just "nothing." And deep down, I know he knows that.

If his focus wasn’t on me before, it sure as hell is now.