19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Megan
T he blurry, grainy image on my phone screen feels like a loaded gun pointed straight at my best friend. The photo, sent by Cole, supposedly shows Ana wrapped up with someone who could very well be Professor Ackerman.
Since getting back to the dorm last night, Elijah and I haven’t looked away from it.
"Call her again," I snap, my fingers tightening around my phone.
Elijah exhales, frustrated.
"Oh, I’m sure after the twelfth fucking time, she’ll answer." He throws his arms up. "Here’s an idea: maybe next time, don’t blow up on her because you had unresolved feelings you lied about. Newsflash-" He leans forward. "You willingly spoke to Cole. You know what he did to Ana. Now he and Walker are all buddy-buddy. That’s probably why Walker even talked to her in the first place-"
"I understand all of that, Elijah!" I cut him off, my voice rising.
I hold up my damn phone, shaking it in his face.
"But this, do you have any idea how fucked Professor Ackerman is if this photo is real? Ana is vulnerable as hell right now. He’s taking advantage of her."
Elijah rolls his eyes, unimpressed.
"If it’s a real photo." He gestures at the screen. "That could be any guy. It’s too fucking blurry to tell. I only knew it was Ana because of those hideous plaid shorts she insists on wearing."
I glare at him.
Now’s not the time.
He exhales, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "What did Cole even want you to do with the photo?"
Shame claws at my chest.
Even entertaining a conversation with Cole last night kept me up. It was spiteful, reckless, and now? I regret every second of it.
"He wanted me to show it to Professor Ackerman." My voice is barely above a whisper, "He said Ana doesn’t know her mind well enough to realize when she’s getting taken advantage of."
Elijah’s lip curls in disgust.
"Sounds like he’s speaking from experience."
I look back down at the photo, my mind racing.
"What if it is Mr. Ackerman?" I press. "Do you honestly think Ana wouldn’t do something reckless just to get back at Walker?"
Elijah’s brows furrow.
"You must think so little of Mr. Ackerman if you assume he’d just throw his career away to fuck a student."
"And if he isn’t a stand-up guy? You may only have dick on your mind, but I know you can at least appreciate Ana’s looks. You don’t think a man as young as him would take advantage of her if given the chance?" I scoff.
Silence.
For once, Elijah doesn’t have an immediate comeback.
He ponders the question, his jaw tightening slightly. "I suppose it’s possible," he finally admits. "But Ana is old enough to make her own decisions. She makes her grades just fine. She wouldn’t need to fuck him to get an A. So, tell me, why the hell would she be doing it if it were true?"
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Why would she?
Grades? Some twisted kink? Maybe he has something over her?
The thought turns my stomach.
A creak at the door snaps both our heads up.
Ana stands there, eyes shadowed, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, but my gaze immediately falls to the red marks on her wrists, deep and raw, like someone grabbed her too hard.
She’s shaking.
Elijah and I stare at her, caught between relief and horror.
"Ana," I hiss, standing up, "What the fuck?"
She tilts her head, eyes flicking between us.
Casually, she tosses her bag onto her bed, her expression unreadable.
"I should be asking you the same thing," she fires back. "Care to explain why you’re accusing me of sleeping with a teacher-"
"Not just any teacher, Ana." Elijah’s voice is sharp, "Professor Ackerman."
Her mouth snaps shut.
Her eyes flicker with something sharp. Anger maybe.
"And where the hell did you get that idea from?"
Ana’s piercing stare locks onto me.
Without hesitation, I grab my phone.
I don’t say anything, I just toss it toward her.
The screen lights up, illuminating her face with the blurry image that has kept Elijah and me awake all night.
"That’s you, Ana," I whisper, my voice tight. "And the other guy-"
"Who sent you this?" Ana’s voice cuts like a blade, laced with immediate anger.
I hesitate.
Elijah and I exchange glances, both of us at a loss for words.
After a beat of silence, Elijah speaks first.
"Cole," he mutters. "Cole sent it to her."
Ana’s grip tightens around my phone. The second the name leaves Elijah’s mouth, something shifts in her expression.
She drops the phone onto the bed, her eyes lowering.
"Why the fuck is Cole sending you blurry photos of me?" Her voice is sharp, accusatory. "How the fuck does he even have your number, Megan-"
"I was pissed at you last night!" The words burst out of me, louder than I intended.
Her jaw tightens.
I inhale, trying to steady myself. "Cole said he knew whose apartment you were in last night. He made it sound like you were in trouble, and honestly? I was angry enough to hear him out. If it is Professor Ackerman, Ana, we can go to the dean-"
"Mr. Ackerman is not the guy in that photo!" Ana’s voice echoes through the dorm, her frustration breaking through.
Her fingers curl into fists, her entire body tense with barely contained rage.
"Perhaps you two didn’t get the fucking memo, Cole hates my ass. And clearly, Walker is no better. Anything he tells you is absolute bullshit."
Elijah and I say nothing.
"I tried to explain things to you last night," she continues, her voice shaking slightly. "But after you walked away, I needed a place to land, to give you space. Whoever I choose to spend my time with outside of this campus is nobody’s fucking business."
I open my mouth, but she cuts me off before I can even try to argue.
"Last time I checked, I’m still an adult." She exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. "One who isn’t fucking one of her teachers. Can you hear how fucking crazy that sounds out loud?"
Elijah, still seated, leans forward.
"Ana, if you’re being taken advantage of, we can help," he says, his voice softer than mine.
Ana lets out a bitter laugh, her arms crossing over her chest.
"The only people taking advantage of me are the ones trying to make that photo become something it’s not."
Her eyes flicker between both of us, as if daring us to say otherwise.
"The least you two can do is not feed into their delusions."
Snatching up her things, she turns on her heel, already marching toward the bathroom.
"I’m taking a shower before class." Her voice is flat, final, "When I get back out, this conversation better be over."
The bathroom door slams shut behind her.
Silence.
Taking a deep breath, Elijah and I finally lock eyes.
Neither of us says a word.
But the tension in the room?
It’s suffocating.
"You shouldn’t have trusted anything that little weasel gave you."
Elijah’s voice is firm, unwavering. His arms are crossed, his expression filled with exasperation.
"Ana would never get with someone that fucking old. No matter how yummy Mr. Ackerman looks, Ana isn’t gonna do anything to compromise her spot here."
I open my mouth, but he keeps going.
"You know about her dad. The last thing she wants to do is disappoint him."
His words land heavier than I expect, sinking into my chest like lead.
"Fuck," I murmur, rubbing my temples. "I didn’t even think about her dad."
Ana’s father is sicker than she lets on. He’s the entire reason she pushed herself to get into Spokehaven in the first place. Before his illness, he was a celebrated professor with a reputation that carried weight.
When he got sick, his students watched his rapid decline, and rather than letting them see him waste away, he left Spokehaven behind.
Now Ana is here, bearing the weight of his name like a cross on her back.
If she did something as reckless as sleeping with a professor, her father’s legacy would crumble.
She wouldn’t do that to him.
The thought grounds me, until the soft creak of the bathroom door pulls both Elijah and me from our thoughts.
Turning, we see Ana slip out, wrapped in a towel.
My stomach twists.
Scratches trail down her back like faint battle scars.
Bruises, deep and angry in blues and purples, paint her upper thighs.
Elijah and I exchange a wide-eyed glance, too stunned to say a word.
She must see the horror on our faces because her voice comes out quiet, almost defeated.
"You're right."
Our eyes snap to hers.
"My dad would be disappointed," she whispers, her grip tightening on the brush she snatched from her bed.
She shakes it in her hand absently.
"Forgot this."
I finally find my voice, but it's soft, uncertain.
"Ana, your skin-"
"I think you’ve pointed out enough for today," she cuts in sharply. "However I choose to distract myself from Cole, my dad, and all the other bullshit is my choice."
Without another word, she turns back toward the bathroom, slamming the door so hard the walls shake.
The room is thick with silence.
Elijah exhales slowly, arms still crossed, his expression unreadable.
"So what do we do?" he finally asks.
I don't have an answer.
I wish I did.
"We let her go through whatever it is she’s going through… and we keep our distance from Cole and Walker."
Elijah nods, but his eyes narrow slightly. "And Mr. Ackerman?"
I hesitate.
If Professor Ackerman is taking advantage of Ana, would she even realize it?
She’s vulnerable. She’s looking for an escape, for release.
And he’s young, successful, powerful. The kind of man who knows exactly the effect he has on people.
How could she resist something that feels like control when everything else in her life is slipping through her fingers?
I swallow hard.
"No," I whisper, my grip tightening around my phone. "I don’t think I will."
Elijah watches me, silent for a long moment.
"At the end of the day, I love Ana." The words feel heavy in my mouth. "And I care for her deeply. Call me delusional, but at least there’s someone in her corner thinking with something other than their hormones."
Elijah heaves a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.
"We are not letting this go, are we?"
I smirk. "We?"
He gives me a look, rolling his eyes.
"You’re not the only one who loves Ana, bitch."
His words catch me off guard, but they make something warm bloom in my chest.
He pats my shoulder, offering a small but determined smile.
"Let’s keep our girl safe."
For the first time all night, a smile tugs at my lips too.