16. Frankie

I'm goingto kill them all—each and every one of them.

I crawled—yes, crawled—and shimmied my way out of a bathroom window, and then I had to hightail it back to campus and spend the next twelve hours hiding from anyone and everyone, all while my stomach growled fiercely.

The cherry on top of this shitty cake is that it has only been twenty-four hours since classes started.

Do I feel shame that I completely skipped Bishop's class this morning? Only a little. Maybe a microcosm of regret. Honestly, I'll deal with his meddling ass later. Right now, I have to meet with my fun new academic advisor and his not so fun teaching assistant.

I know how to handle people who don't like me.

What I don't know how to handle are people who want me. I'm not even going to dive into "like" because I don't think any of them really like me. They want me, sure, but like?

I don't think so.

Even though I rushed out on them last night and hid like the coward I'm being right now, I can't deny the fact that I actually didn't hate the attention or the fact that they all focused on me while Matteo strummed me like one of his favorite string instruments.

Just thinking about it sends a shudder through my body.

No. I won't think about men right now.

We are hiding from those kinds of people.

The ones with dicks.

Don't think, just knock. I quickly rap on the door three times, knowing damn well that I will, in fact, have to eventually figure out how I'm feeling. Preferably while no guys, I mean dicks, are near me.

Professor Blackwood opens the door to his office, wearing a lime-green cardigan, a stark contrast to his usual somber attire. "Miss Vale!" He beams, his voice carrying a warmth that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He reaches out a hand, which I tentatively shake, and he clasps it with both of his a little too tightly.

"I've been eager to meet with you one-on-one, Frankie. Your previous advisor mentioned your unique perspective on technology—a rare quality here," he says, holding onto my hand just a moment longer than comfortable. His grip feels calculating, as if trying to subtly assert dominance.

I try to free my hand, but he tightens his grip slightly. "That's wonderful," I reply, pulling my hand away more forcefully this time and crossing my arms protectively. "But I'm curious, Professor, why the sudden interest in me?"

Blackwood's smile falters momentarily, revealing a glimpse of his true intent. "Every student is a puzzle, Ms. Vale, and I pride myself on unlocking their fullest potential."

Right. What potential? In my mind, I'm a C student in everything but tech, where I excel. Could he be referring to that?

"Come in, come in." He waves me into his cluttered office. "It isn't much, but it's what we have to work with this afternoon."

His desk is against one wall, jutting out to allow for a barrier between us. I move toward the chair across from his desk, letting my book bag sag to the floor. Along the right wall and behind his desk in an L pattern are his bookshelves, which are double-stuffed.

"Go ahead, have a seat." He points to the worn, threadbare chair, the black looking as if other students have slowly scratched off the paint. "Your academic record is impressive."

He doesn't move away until I lower down, placing my hands in my lap. Then and only then does he head to his cushy chair behind his desk.

"I suspect you've barely scratched the surface of what you are capable of." He beams at me, his fingertips pressed together. "But right now, I want to talk about how you're fitting in here at Shadow Locke."

I feel my brow rise before I can get control of my face. Clearing my throat, I ask for clarification. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how are you socializing?" He's looking at me with far too much interest. It's almost unsettling. I hate the way he's looking at me, as though I'm a bug under a microscope.

I scoff, a laugh spilling out of my lips before I can bite it back. "Socializing?"

"Yes, socializing." He winks at me, and I can't tell if he is trying too hard or if he just has this strange, slimy vibe to him. I'm betting on the latter. "I saw you with Matteo yesterday."

Who didn't?

Luckily, there is a distinct knock on the door a moment before it opens, and the desk jockey walks in. His cruel eyes flicker to mine a microsecond before he nods to the professor.

"Ah, you've met my teaching assistant, Dorian Gray." He waves at him like the guy is on display. "If it doesn't bother you, I'd like him to sit in on your sessions. I have a feeling you two will be plotting against me before long."

What a strange thing to say.

Dorian doesn't even look at me. Instead, he leans against the bookshelf, somehow making it look like he and he alone is holding up the entire thing. Those cruel eyes of his fall on me and somehow make me feel even more like a bug under a microscope.

Scratch that, he makes me feel like I'm under a magnifying glass.

"I was just asking Ms. Vale how she is socializing." The professor returns right to the topic I hoped he'd forget.

"I'm not great with socializing." I twitch in my seat and resist looking at the clock on the wall.

Dorian doesn't react, but Professor Blackwood leans forward and gives me one of those looks I thought was only reserved for therapists and parents. "Well, Ms. Vale, it is very important that we look into why you aren't into socializing. I don't know if you are aware of this, but the bonds that we make in college can last a lifetime."

I don't know what it is about this conversation, but it feels off. Under my feet, I feel my shadow slowly pull in. Hopefully, I don't look like Peter Pan tossing my shadow all around. "That's fine." I brush off his words. "I don't plan on making lifetime bonds."

He hisses through his teeth, his eyes going wide. I look at Dorian, but his face remains exactly the same.

"Well, the bonds you make now can carry into your adult life." He uses a very informal tone, almost prying. "How will you know that if you befriend one person they can change your life if you don't take the chance to say hello?"

"Do you even know the odds of that happening?" I scoff at him.

His lip twitches subtly. "That's your homework." He claps his hands, startling me. "Socialize."

"I work at a bar," I blurt out. Over my dead body. I won't, under any circumstances, accept socializing as homework. No way, no how.

"Perfect!" He's way too excited about that. "The Grotto?"

I give him a nod and find myself fidgeting. Locking my legs and arms, I go for my very best customer service smile. "Yeah." I try to mimic his smile to make him feel like it's somehow contagious. Whether or not it's working is beyond me. "I work for Andy."

"Amazing woman. I bet she's looking out for you, isn't she?" There's a strange edge to his voice. "She's always looking out for those who don't have anyone."

Excuse me?

"Frankie started a bar fight during her last shift." Dorian's monotone voice breaks through my mask, and I whip my head around to glare at him. He isn't even looking at me, but at his nails. "Someone spilled their beer on her."

If looks could kill, Dorian would be in flames right about now.

"Well, that is quite the show of anger." Professor Blackwood's voice is full of concern, but it's fake. I bet it's the same concern he uses on all his students because he is paid to pretend to care. It's a tone I've heard and known about my entire life. "We may have to work on your self-control."

Color me surprised.

"Yes," Dorian drones on. "She will."

"Oh no, Dorian." Professor Blackwood's furry eyebrows sink low over his eyes. "You are going to shadow her and make sure that Ms. Vale stays out of trouble. With her potential, she needs to stay on track."

"I don't need a babysitter," I blurt out.

"No," Dorian states, but there is a tic in his right cheek. He's pissed over this new development. "Besides, she said she doesn't need a babysitter."

"I'm sure it won't be too much of a hassle. Just check in on her daily. You two can have lunch together in the library," Professor Blackwood presses.

I can feel stress begin to rise inside me, and I have to grit my teeth. "I'm sure Dorian has better things to do."

"I do."

"Is there a problem?" The professor appears concerned. He isn't. I don't know what bullshit he is pulling, but I'm about to snap on him. "Do you have a boyfriend? Maybe two?"

Red rushes to my cheeks, and I avert my eyes, giving myself away. Dammit, work on your poker face, Frankie. "No," I grind out, but this time, Dorian is looking at me.

"Then it's settled." He beams at me all over again. "I have certain expectations for my students, Ms. Vale, and unfortunately, you are already behind all of your peers."

"What?" I sit on the edge of my seat. "That's bullshit. I haven't failed a single class, and while I'm not a straight A honor roll kind of student, I'm not failing."

"But you are, Francesca." The professor says my name as though he's my father. It sends a strange chill up and down my back—a forewarning. Either he is always this creepy, or he is reserving it just for me. "Socializing and networking are just as important to your development as math or science. I'd like you to find a date to the eclipse party."

I rub my temples. This guy is giving me a headache. "I don't do dances."

"You will if you want me to pass you for graduation." The professor's tone changes… darkens. "I have to sign off on your graduation, and from where I'm sitting, it isn't going to happen." He snaps his fingers. "Better yet, join a club or a committee. That is your homework for our next session."

This is my hell. "My other advisor didn't tell me I needed any of this."

"Well, that is up to each advisor," he says with faux seriousness. "Like I said earlier, I expect a lot from my students, Frankie, more than they often expect from themselves. You'll find my methods are... rigorous, but they reveal your true capacity. Are you prepared to be pushed beyond what you thought possible?"

Pushed? No. I'm comfortable right where I am.

Dorian yawns. "She doesn't have it in her."

"I'm sorry, am I boring you?" I snap. Why is he here?

Professor Blackwood tsks under his breath. "Those kinds of outbursts won't be welcome. If you want me to help you grow as a student, I expect you to follow my directions."

Dorian smirks, and I slowly look away from him, digging my nails into my thighs. My shadows squirm below me and lick at my skin, wanting to protect me, but they can't, not in this instance.

"How does me not wanting to socialize lead to me not having it in me?" Whatever "it" means.

"It means grit." Dorian drops his hands to look at me completely. "And you don't have it."

"You—" I bite my tongue until it bleeds. Know nothing about me. Nothing.

"Then it's settled." The professor is far too pleased with himself. "I see a lot of myself in you, Frankie. It's crucial, however, that you rely on the guidance I provide exclusively. External influences can be... distracting, even damaging."

Is he talking about Matteo? Leo? Bishop? There is no way he knows I dated Bishop.

"Aren't you the one telling me to socialize?" I was so close to keeping my mouth shut.

"I am." He winks. "And that is exactly what you will do because I told you to—with Dorian."

Wonderful. "Is that all?" I grind out.

"Of course. You two better get to the library." He stands, dismissing me.

"Right now?" Dorian interjects.

"Right now?" I parrot, grabbing my backpack and clutching it to my chest.

"There is no better time." The professor opens the door. "Off with you two."

Closing my eyes, I try to calm my racing heart, but it's futile. As I dart from the office, a cold voice stops me. "One moment, Ms. Vale," Professor Blackwood calls out, his tone suddenly stern. I turn, my heart sinking further. He blocks the doorway, a thin smile playing on his lips. "Don't forget, Frankie, you're not just any student, and remember, I always have my eye on you."

His words send a shiver down my spine. Two years. That's how long I made it under the radar here. When the hell did my time run out?

How much does he really know about me?