15

I wake with a start when I hear a crashing sound. My heart is hammering in my chest, and my body is on high alert when Zoey pokes her head out of our bathroom with a guilty smile. “Sorry about that; I dropped my curling iron.”

Taking a deep breath and nodding, I reply, “It's okay, just a little jumpy. I guess that's to be expected.”

She takes a step into our living space with a sad smile on her face. “Are you sure you're up for this? You know you can always take a week off or switch to online classes for a semester.”

My eyebrows draw together, and I become immediately defensive, “I am not switching to online classes. I'm fine, and you know how badly I just want a normal college experience. Can’t we just pretend none of it ever happened?”

“Do you think you can do that?” she asks me, slightly tilting her head to the side.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I offer only a strong nod and eye contact, hoping I relay how determined I am to really do this. She seems to accept it and shrugs her way back into the bathroom to finish getting ready for classes.

I growl a little and drag myself out of bed when there's a knock at the door. My body decides to lock up, and I just stare at the door.

You're supposed to choose fight or flight, not freeze, I scold myself.

“Zoey, can you get that?”

She comes bouncing out of the bathroom, and when she takes in the state of me and offers another sad smile. She checks the peep hole, shrugs, and opens the door.

She leans out the doorway, holding the door open with her leg, and returns with a coffee in each hand. There’s also a bouquet of flowers tucked between her body and her elbow. The flowers are powder pink and look like they're climbing up the stem. I immediately melt because I know exactly who left these.

“At least he remembered my coffee order,” Zoey mumbles with an ornery grin.

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face at this sweet man of mine.

Mine? Hmm. That's the first time I've thought that to myself, and I can't argue with how right it feels. I take a sip of my coffee, snatch the note from the flowers and swoon.

I take the flowers and set them on the table by the window, raising the blinds so they can get plenty of sunshine for the day. At that moment, someone walks by our ground-floor window, causing me to screech and jump back.

Zoey comes barreling right back out of the bathroom. “What? What? What?!” she gasps.

“I'm sorry. Someone walked by the window when I opened the blinds. It startled me is all. I’m okay.”

She crosses the space between us and hugs me, not letting go until I do, then looks me straight in the eye. “You're not accepting defeat or something crazy if you need to take online classes to get through the semester, Lee. Shit happens. Okay? I know you want to be strong, but it doesn't make you weak not to torture yourself. Just…just think about it, okay?” she finishes with a soft smile.

I just nod.

Maybe this will be harder than I thought.

This is definitely harder than I thought it would be. I'm only in my second class of the day, with two more to go, and I've already had fifty miniature heart attacks for no reason whatsoever. Every unexpected sound is making me jump. The guy behind me sneezed a minute ago, and I thought I was going to pee my pants. It also doesn't help that word spread like wildfire that I'd been kidnapped, and everyone has been pointing and whispering at me all day. It's kind of hard to blend in with the silver hair and all. I can't decide if the attention or the fear is worse, but they're both so suffocating.

I guess sometimes, no matter how hard you want something, you also have to admit that you might not be able to do it, and it looks like I likely won’t be able to handle the normal college experience that I wanted so badly. At least not right now.

Trying to focus on the rest of the lecture while also coming to terms with that realization is hard.

Okay, so I might need to take classes online, then what?

Do I live on campus and stay in my room by myself while Zoey goes to class like a normal person? Or do I take the next step towards crazy and move in with Roman and the guys? Like recently finding out I was a freaking werewolf wasn't enough, let's see what else she can handle. UGH, this is all just too much.

Apparently raging and ranting at myself is exactly what I needed, because before I realize it, class is over. I've got forty-five minutes before my Photojournalism class with Professor Sinclair. I'll go talk to her and get her opinion on my situation.

I do my best to slink through the halls to her classroom, trying to attract the least amount of attention. When I finally reach the right room, I open the door just enough to squeeze through and collapse against it once it clicks shut.

Professor Sinclair looks up from her papers; she seems to be grading. She obviously wasn't expecting it to be me as she lurches from her seat and moves unnaturally fast across the large room to meet me.

“Oh my gosh, Leera, I'm so glad you're alright!” She seems to almost choke up. “Can I touch you?”

All I can do is take deep breaths and nod.

Her hands come down on my arms, moving up and down in a reassuring way, but it doesn't feel anywhere near the relief I get from Roman's touch.

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asks, turning back to her calm and kind self.

“Kind of...to both,” I say quietly, trying to keep the tears in.

She just nods, causing her tightly-coiled natural hair to bob a little, then gently walks me to a chair.

“Is it okay with you if I just get it all out as quickly as I can?” I ask her. “I'm afraid if I stop, I'll break down and won't be able to get it all out.”

“Of course, whatever you need.”

I start from the very beginning and tell her about everything with me and Roman, filling in more human-related issues where the werewolf details would be. Her eyes continue to grow as I carry on, and the rich ebony skin on her forehead wrinkles as she takes in all the information that I'm throwing at her.

“And now I'm here, blabbing my life story to my professor because I don't have anyone, and I don't know what to do.” And with that, the dam breaks and the sobs escape me.

“Oh, honey, shhhh.” She wraps me in a small hug and pats my back. “Why don't we go back to my office, so we're not in a public room, and we can talk through this, and I can just give my next class direction? Everything is going to be okay.”

I nod slightly as she stands and heads to her desk to gather her things while I try to gather myself to make it back out in that hallway.

When Professor Sinclair is ready to go, she seems to mumble something under her breath before she opens the door, and goosebumps prick at my arms.

I brace myself for all the attention I've been getting today as we join the masses and walk towards her office. I have my arms wrapped around myself, watching my feet hit the floor as I try to avoid the curious glances and whispers, but I don't feel the intensity of attention on my skin like I had the rest of the day.

I sneak a peek around, and I'm just moving through the crowd unnoticed. It's not that I'm not grateful, but I wasn't even able to go to the bathroom earlier without some girls trying to ask me questions. I'm thankful for whatever is happening, but it's also kind of weird. I quickly lower my head to keep watching my shoes and enjoy the brief lapse in everyone's curiosity and scuttle along next to Professor.

My mind cannot even process the fact that we made it all the way to her office without a single incident, but I'm not about to start complaining.

I pile all the stuff beside the seat in front of her large, walnut desk before allowing myself to plop into the chair, resting my elbows on my knees, and hanging my head in defeat.

The sounds of Professor Sinclair moving around the room before taking a seat at her desk help to calm my frayed nerves. She allows me a few more moments of silence, and then she breaks it, jumping right back into the fire and saying, “Leera, let's start with what do you want?” she asks, emphasizing the word you.

I open my mouth to offer my immediate answer, but close it and allow myself to really consider the question.

After a few moments of thought, I reply, “I want to be a photojournalist like my parents. I want to be with Roman without complications. I just want to be a normal college kid, and I really couldn't be farther from it at this point.” Another small whimper threatens to escape, but I manage to hold it in.

Her chin rests on her steepled fingers while she considers my response. The gold rings she wears on every finger glisten in the harsh lights above us.

She reclines, her back resting against her chair, as she seems to contemplate the best way to move the conversation forward.

“I understand your drive to have the ‘normal college experience,’” she emphasizes with air quotes. “But you could ask fifty kids what they think a normal college experience is, and you could potentially get fifty different answers. Some people can get an entire degree online without ever stepping foot on a campus, while others may never take an online class. For some people, college is about education only, and there is no room for friendships or relationships, while other people make bonds that last a lifetime. There are even people who never wanted to go to college but are forced or feel obligated, so they're just getting through it.”

I nod along as she speaks because she's absolutely right. I hadn't thought about it that way. But where is she going with this?

“I think there might be a little more that you're not telling me, and surprisingly enough, I think I understand what you can't tell me, and I want you to know—she's cut off by a thunderous knock on her office door.

My initial instinct is to cower, but my body relaxes without any instruction from my brain. That doesn't make any sense; why would Roman be here?

Just as the thought crosses my mind, I'm enveloped in the scent of cherries and leather, and for the first time today, I'm at peace…even if it only lasts a moment.