Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next week before class, Professor Gene sends me an email asking me to stay after.
I’m buzzing with adrenaline all through the lecture, mostly from excitement, but also because Banks is sitting next to me again.
He smells like cinnamon from the little red disks he keeps popping into his mouth, and, every once in a while, his arm brushes mine.
More often than could be a coincidence, I think.
When class is over, he takes longer than last time to collect his things. He looks at me once. “Hey, I’ll see you around, Opal, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I bounce up on my toes, holding my books close to my chest. “See you.”
“See you.” Will’s sing-song voice is too high, apparently meant to sound like mine.
I turn around to find him perched on the end of his table, chin resting in his palms. “Jesus, Opie, you’re drooling.
And I don’t mean from your mouth.” His eyes travel down my body, and he looks back up, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Hey, it’s all natural, baby. Don’t be ashamed of what your body does.”
“Stop thinking about my body, Will.”
He hops off the table, following me as I march toward the front of the classroom. “You don’t think blondie’s thinking about your body?”
“Banks?”
“Banks.” He says the name with disgust, his lips pursed. “What kind of name is that? Might as well’ve called him Money Bags.”
“Better than Fitzwilliam.”
He chuckles. “My name’s regal. I could lead countries one day.”
“And yet you can’t even find your way out of the classroom.” I gesture toward the door as I stop at the professor’s desk, waiting.
Will nods toward the door himself, cocky as ever. “Do you need me to lead you? I’m meeting Professor Gene.”
“No. I’m meeting…” I trail off. My blood goes cold. No. “What are you talking about?”
“Ahh, I see you’ve met your new partner,” Professor Gene says, drawing our attention his way.
The word tears from both our lips at once, equally disgusted. “Partner?”