Chapter 4
ANTHONY
“Any questions?” Professor Morris asks and taps the end of his telescopic pointer stick against the smartboard.
“Any questions at all, because this is the last time I’m going to mention any of this until the exam review.
” He pauses and glances around the classroom, then snaps the pointer closed when no one raises their hand.
“I was going to get started on the next unit,” he continues.
“But based on the zombie stares you’re all giving me, you’ve already checked out and won’t hear a word of whatever I say. ”
A few people shift uncomfortably in their seats at being called out, but he’s not wrong. We’re only a few days away from the start of spring break, and for most of us, this is our last class of the day. I’ve barely absorbed anything he’s said since I sat down, and I actually like him as a teacher.
He’s one of the few educators at Silvercrest who seems to enjoy teaching, and he’s good at it. Our professors are world-renowned experts in their fields, but they can’t teach for shit, and sitting through their lectures is like watching paint dry or trying to see grass grow.
It probably helps that Professor Morris is half the age of most of his colleagues, so he understands things like pop culture and integrates them into his lessons.
And he’s hot as fuck, so sitting through his class definitely isn’t a hardship.
“Okay,” he says, resigned. “Change of plans. Instead of starting the next unit, I’ll cut you guys loose early.”
Several students burst out into cheers, and almost everyone starts gathering their things.
“But first,” Professor Morris continues, his voice loud enough to cut through the noise and make everyone stop what they’re doing. “We have to go over one more piece of class business. Then you’re free.”
Groans and a few boos ring out as everyone sits back down.
“Now that I’ve got your full attention, it’s time for everyone’s favorite activity!” he says with fake enthusiasm and taps on the screen of the smart board.
Two words appear on it. Group Project.
The collective groan from the class is loud, but Professor Morris just grins maniacally and leans against the side of his desk.
“That never gets old,” he says, still grinning like a horror movie villain.
“I know how much everyone loves group projects, but they’re a school requirement, so I have to assign them even if I don’t want to. ”
I sink lower in my seat and absently spin my pen around my fingers as he taps on the smart board again.
“The project can be found on page two of your syllabus,” he says as a zoomed-in image of the section in question appears on the board.
I only half listen as he drones on about the project and what he expects from us. Like he said, all the information is in the syllabus, and the only thing I care about is finding out who I’ll be working with on it.
“And now the fun part,” Professor Morris says, his voice cutting through my musings.
“Like I said earlier, you’ll be doing this project in pairs, and I’ve already assigned them.
” He taps on the board again, and a screen full of coupled-up names appears on it.
“These are your partners. And yes, this list is final. There will be no switching groups for any reason, so don’t bother asking. ” He gives us a pointed look.
I barely notice my peers moving around and making disgruntled sounds as I scan the list and find my name and my partner’s name about halfway down the list.
Anthony Medici and Westley Parker.
“Now I’m choosing to believe that you’re all going to go off with your group partners and get started on your projects, and I’ll see you after the break,” Professor Morris says, effectively dismissing us.
I don’t bother hiding my grin as I gather up my things.
West isn’t in class today, but that’s fine. I can always share the good news next time I see him.
There aren’t many people out on the paths as I head back to the house, and I can feel that buzz of restless energy that’s been plaguing me for weeks building under my skin.
Maybe I’ll go for a ride later. I’ve been cooped up on campus for too long, and I’ve been so busy with all the drama at the house and with Xave and his shenanigans that I haven’t been out on my bike in the past few weeks.
I just need an hour or so away from these walls where all I have to think about is making the next turn and enjoying the wind moving over me as the world passes by in a blur. That should be enough to get me through the next few days so I don’t lose my shit before the break.
I’m almost at the gate to Romeo House when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Connor: gym?
Anthony: when are you going?
Connor: as soon as my dumbass brother gets his head out of his ass
Anthony: what’s he done now?
Connor: he thought it would be a good idea to try and recreate Xs route through the walls and now he’s stuck
I pause walking and read the text again. What the fuck?
Anthony: he’s stuck in the walls?
Connor: more like lost
Anthony: he’s lost in the walls? That’s not any better
Connor: lost isn’t the right word either
Connor: more like he got turned around and has to backtrack because he wandered into a dead end
Anthony: do I want to ask what the fuck you two are up to?
Connor: probably not
Connor: so, gym?
Anthony: I’ll be back at the house in 5
Connor: meet you there in 30
Connor: I’m gonna block the trapdoor and see how long it takes him to get out
Anthony: have fun
Connor: I definitely will
I wait to see if he has anything else he wants to say, then switch to my text thread with Hazen.
Anthony: are you stuck in the walls?
I’m not expecting an answer and I just want to troll him, but my phone vibrates as I’m slipping it back in my pocket.
Hazen: not stuck and not lost
Hazen: just temporarily detained
Anthony: you’re a dumbass
Hazen: weird way to say thank you for being the only one willing to do the dirty work, but you’re welcome
Anthony: how about you focus on getting out of there and then you can sass me?
Hazen: I would but you texted me so it’s your fault I’m answering
Hazen: now if you’ll excuse me, I have some walls to escape from
I slip my phone into my pocket as I come up on the main gate to the house, but instead of going to the main entrance, I head over to the western side of the building, where there’s an entrance that opens up into the side stairwell.
When I get to it, I tap my card on the ID sensor, then pull the door open.
“Jesus!” a voice cries out as I step into the stairwell.
A smirk slides over my lips when I see West standing on the landing between the stairs and the door that leads into the house. “Not quite.”
The twin bangs of both doors closing one after the other are as loud as gunshots in the echoey space, and I arch my eyebrow questioningly when West jumps at both sounds.
“You good?” I ask, a teasing lilt to my voice.
He lets out a shaky laugh and scrubs one hand through his fluffy blond hair. “Yeah. I was just distracted and forgot this is a public stairwell for a second.” He shoots me a wry grin. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”
I motion toward the stairs. “Going up?”
West looks between me and the steps a few times, like he’s trying to remember why he’s here and where he was going, then nods.
I fall into step beside him, making sure to stand close enough that our arms brush with each step.
“You weren’t in class just now,” I say casually.
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it today,” he says, his eyes on the floor as we climb the stairs together.
“We got a new assignment.”
He shoots me a surprised look. “We did?”
“Yup.”
“But it’s the last class before the break?” He sounds and looks so confused. “I figured I wouldn’t miss anything important if I skipped today.”
“Don’t worry, you didn’t,” I assure him. “He just told us about the group project we have due after the break.”
He screws up his face like he’s thinking hard about something. “Is that the interview-style one in the syllabus?”
“It is.”
“Aren’t we doing that one in partners?”
I nod.
His thoughtful look melts away and is replaced with panic. “Did he assign them, or did we get to choose? Aren’t there an uneven number of people in that class? How can we do partner projects if there’s an odd number of students?” His eyes widen. “Did I not get a partner because I wasn’t there?”
I bump my arm against his. “Relax. He assigned the partners, and I have no idea if there’s an even or odd number of people in our class, but you weren’t left off the list.”
“I wasn’t?” His entire face brightens, and his voice is laced with hope. “Oh, good.”
One thing I’ve always found interesting about West is how emotive he is. His smiles are always big and bright, and he wears his confusion and hurt without giving a shit that everyone can see exactly what he’s thinking and feeling.
The other thing about West that caught my attention, even back before the Hunt, is how everything about him is a contradiction when you first see and meet him.
His fluffy blond hair and wide blue eyes, along with his baby face, give him an innocent and cherubic look, but he’s big and strong and built like an MMA fighter who looks like he could fuck you up without breaking a sweat when he’s actually soft-spoken and a bit weird and silly when he lets his guard down and allows his true personality to shine through.
It makes him interesting, and it shows that there’s more to him than the carefully crafted pretty boy jock persona he’s had since I’ve known him.
“Nope,” I tell him and playfully bump my arm against his again. “And you’ve got nothing to worry about, partner.”
West’s foot slips off the stair rung he just stepped on, and I instinctively grab him around the waist to help steady him as he catches his balance.
A faint crackle of electricity ignites on my skin, and hints of something spicy mixed with musk and cedar surround me as West’s warm body presses against mine.
“You good?” I ask again, holding him a bit closer just because I can.