- Home
- Lucy Covington
Perfectly Protected (Addicted To You, Book Three) Page 2
Perfectly Protected (Addicted To You, Book Three) Read online
Page 2
Well, she was going to be disappointed. She probably thought we’d slept together, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not only didn’t we sleep together, we hadn’t even kissed.
There’d been a moment, in his room last night, when I’d come in wearing a towel where I was sure he was going to kiss me. I’d wanted him too so badly. I wanted him to kiss me and push me down on the bed and let his hands roam all over my body. I wouldn’t have stopped him. But he hadn’t done any of that.
I couldn’t figure it out. Why hadn’t he kissed me? The train shook and bumped down the track, and I felt my face burn. Why had I come into his room like that, wearing just a towel? I’d thought at the time that I was being sexy, but maybe it was just stupid.
The train came to a halt on the tracks. There must have been some sort of back-up, because we stayed stopped for at least five minutes. I felt myself start to break out in a sweat. Beads of perspiration pooled on the back of my neck, and I shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Just when I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, the train shot forward, causing me to slide into the person ahead of me.
A few agonizing minutes later, I got off at my stop.
I ran all the way to the science building, and by the time I got there, I was a sweaty mess. It was ten o’clock on the dot, and I raced up the three stories to the third floor. When I got there, it was two minutes past the hour.
The door to the classroom was closed, and Rachel was nowhere to be found. She must have gone inside already.
I reached out and turned the doorknob. But it was locked. I knocked softly, not wanting to disturb the lecture.
A boy in the back row reached out and opened the door for me.
“Thanks,” I whispered gratefully.
I spotted Rachel sitting all the way over to side around the middle of the room.
She must have been too late to get a seat in front. I started to creep down the side aisle toward her. Dr. Klaxton was writing something on the board, and his back was to me.
When he turned around, he called out, “Excuse me, miss, what do you think you’re doing?”
The whole class turned to look at me. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the fact that I was wearing Justin’s t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
“I’m sorry I was late, sir,” I said. “It won’t happen again.” I started to continue my path to Rachel, but before I could, Dr. Klaxton’s voice ripped through the lecture hall.
“What is your name, please?” He’d been writing with a marker on the white board, and now he capped it and turned around. He moved to his lectern and ate a jellybean from his cup.
“Lindsay Cramer.” My throat was completely dry, and I could feel everyone in the class staring at me, their eyes pricking at my skin.
“Ms. Cramer, did you read the syllabus I handed to you during our first class?”
“Yes.”
“And do you remember my policy when it comes to tardiness?”
“I… I don’t remember seeing anything about that.”
Dr. Klaxton began moving up the steps that led from the front of the room to the back where the door was. He was in the aisle that went through the middle of the room, and I was standing in the aisle by the wall, frozen. “I would hope, Ms. Cramer that when you start taking a class, you would take the time to read the syllabus. If you had, you would know that I do not accept anyone coming into my class late.”
It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I didn’t know what to say. I had never been in trouble in school before. I mean, ever. Not a detention, not a write-up, nothing. I’d never even forgotten my gym clothes.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “But if you just –“
“Miss Cramer,” Dr. Klaxton said. He was at the back of the room now, and he opened the door. “Please leave.”
What else could I do? My face burning, I walked out of the classroom and into the hallway as everyone watched the show.
I felt like I was going to cry. How could this have happened? I wasn’t sure what to do. Suddenly, I felt completely claustrophobic. I needed to get out of the building.
I was almost outside when my cell phone started vibrating.
My mom.
In that moment, I missed her so much I could hardly stand it.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice a little wobbly. I plopped down on the front steps of the science building, not even caring that there were probably millions of disgusting germs on the concrete. I didn’t have the energy to talk and walk at the same time.
“Linds?” my mom asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” I said. As if to prove my point, my purse slouched over and my lip-gloss slid out and went rolling down the steps. A boy stepped on it, and then kept walking.. “Including the fact that some random just wrecked my favorite lip gloss.”
My mom laughed. Not in a mean way, but in the kind of way that let me know she thought that whatever I was about to tell her could be fixed. I could picture her, sitting on the sun porch of our house, curled up in her favorite yellow upholstered chair, a cup of French vanilla coffee in her hand. I missed her so bad it hurt.
“What else?” she asked.
I hesitated. My mom and I were close. But I couldn’t tell her about Justin. What would I say? I met a guy at college who doesn’t go to school with me, but he’s a fighter and I met him while he was getting stitched up and then we went swimming in our underwear, but don’t worry he hasn’t kissed me? No way. But I could tell her, at least, about getting kicked out of class.
“I was two minutes late for a class,” I said. “And the professor kicked me out.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. But that sounds like it was just a misunderstanding.”
“Not really.” I kicked at a rock that was sitting on the steps. “It said on the syllabus that he doesn’t let anyone in late. And I didn’t read it.”
“Well, honey, go and talk to him. I’m sure he’s a reasonable person.” I could hear her sipping her coffee and I wished so badly I was home.
I felt my eyes fill with tears. “I miss you, Mom.”
“Oh, I miss you, too, baby,” she said.
“I’m sorry I’m being so down. I actually really like the city, and my classes are really interesting.”
“That’s great. How’s your roommate?”
I told her about Rachel, and about Adam and the story of how he cut his leg, while conveniently leaving out anything that had to do with Justin.
“Mom,” I said, as I saw Rachel coming down the stairs. “The class is over, can I call you back? I’m going to take your advice and go see the professor.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Good luck.”
I slipped my phone back into my purse and walked up the stairs toward Rachel.
“Oh my God, Lindsay,” she said when she saw me. “I’m so sorry that happened to you! I tried to wait for you outside before class, but he came out and ushered me in.”
“That’s okay. I would have felt even worse if I’d gotten you in trouble.”
She held my paper out to me. “He wouldn’t let me hand it in.”
I took it from her. “Yeah, I figured.” I sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to go and try to talk to him. I’ll see you back at the room?”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Good luck.”
I was going to need it.
***
By the time I found Dr. Klaxton’s office, it was almost eleven. And according to my syllabus, he had office hours from eleven to twelve-thirty. (This information was printed right under the part about how he didn’t let anyone into class late. It said, right there, LATECOMERS WILL NOT BE ALLOWED INTO CLASS.) When I got to the office, the secretary told me that Dr. Klaxton wasn’t in yet. She was kind of snotty about it, but I decided not to take it personally. Even so, I decided to wait on the bench in the hallway, away from her hawk-like stare.
I didn’t have long to wait. A few seconds later, Dr. Klaxton came walking toward me.
“Dr. Klaxton,” I sai
d, and stood up. I didn’t know if it was the best idea to sort of ambush him out here in the hall, but I was too anxious to wait for him to get into his office. “I’m Lindsay Cramer, I’m the one who – ”
“I know who you are, Ms. Cramer,” he said. He was holding a Styrofoam cup, and he slurped from it noisily. His lips were dark, like he’d been eating too many red jellybeans. “I just saw you less than an hour ago.”
“I wanted to apologize again for showing up to class late. I had a, uh, personal situation come up this morning.”
He didn’t say anything, just took another sip of his coffee. His expression was completely blank, and I couldn’t tell if I was getting through to him.
“Anyway, I wanted you to know that I wrote the paper, the one that you were going to use to choose your research assistants?” I pulled it out and showed it to him. “I know you might not want to accept it, but I worked very hard on it, and I’m proud of the work I did. If you would just give me another chance, I’m sure I can make it up to you.”
He didn’t say anything.
“And I’ll never be late again,” I tried.
His lips pursed together and he twisted them to the side. “Let me guess,” he said.
“Valedictorian? East Podunk, New Jersey?”
“Excuse me?”
He took in a big deep breath, like he couldn’t believe he was spending his time with someone so stupid. “You were valedictorian,” he said, enunciating every syllable.
“Probably from a school in a small town?”
“I don’t under –”
“Then let me explain it to you. You think you deserve special treatment because you’re smart. In high school you were a big fish in a small pond. But everyone here is smart, Ms. Cramer. In fact, many of them are smarter than you. They’ve gone to the best boarding schools in the world. I don’t give them special treatment. And I’m definitely not going to give you special treatment.”
And with that, he turned around and walked into his office, shutting the door behind him.
***
“What an asshole,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “I hate people like that, who think they have to be jerks just to be jerks.”
“He was completely jerky.” I sighed. We were sitting outside on a blanket later that day, our books spread out around us, about to settle in for a nice long study session.
It was nice to be sitting amidst the grass and the trees and the beautiful, old buildings of Cambridge University that had so much history. The sunlight was still perfect for reading and it filtered softly through the leaves above our heads.
“You weren’t even that late,” Rachel reassured me. “He just wanted to make an example of you so people would be scared of him. He probably has a small…you know what.”
“A small you know what?” I frowned.
“Yeah, a small, you know, member.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “That is disgusting. You did not just talk about Dr.
Klaxton’s member. And besides, who calls it that?”
“I’m trying to experiment with my vocabulary. Today in English I used the word avarice.”
“I thought you were experimenting with different names.”
“I was,” she said. “But then I realized that maybe I was meant to be a Rachel after all.” She titled her chin up, considering. “Or maybe a Zoe.”
“Hey, stranger,” a voice said.
I looked up, shading my eyes from the late afternoon sun. It was Adam. He was tossing a football back and forth between his hands, and he was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a navy blue Cambridge University t-shirt. He couldn’t have looked more collegiate if he’d tried.
“Hi, Adam.” I smiled and hoped he wouldn’t bring up what had happened the other night, when I’d run out of Frog like a crazy person. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Just tossin’ the ball around.” He tossed it a little higher, this time putting a spin on it.
“Have you met Rachel?” I asked.
“No, he hasn’t,” Rachel said. “I would have remembered.” She gave him a smile and stretched out her hand. “I’m Rachel.”
“I’m Adam.” He took her hand. “Nice to meet you.” He gave her a friendly smile back, but then immediately turned his attention to me. “What are you up to tonight? You wanna grab frozen yogurt? My treat.”
I tried to think of a reason why I couldn’t. But I wasn’t able to come up with one.
“Sure,” I said. “That sounds great.”
“Cool. Pick you up at your room tonight?”
“Sounds good.”
“See you then. Nice meeting you, Rachel.” He took off back toward his friends, and Rachel and I watched him go.
“Wow,” Rachel said. “He’s gorgeous.”
“You think?”
“Um, yeah. I don’t think it’s really a matter of opinion.”
She was right. Adam was gorgeous, in that Abercrombie model kind of way. He had dirty blonde hair and broad shoulders and a perfect smile. But while I could appreciate that he was good-looking, it was more in a detached way, like looking at a beautiful painting that you didn’t quite understand.
Adam was hot, but that was it. And while I could see that, while anyone could see that, it was nothing like it was with Justin.
With Justin, there was… I don’t know… heat. Justin was sexy and dangerous, and every time I was around him, my stomach had butterflies and my heart felt like it was on fire.
I’d been thinking about him all day. Okay, “thinking” wasn’t really the right word. I’d been obsessing about him all day. Ever since I’d met him, I couldn’t get him out of my head. It was frustrating and exciting all at once.
My cell phone was sitting on the blanket next to me, and I glanced at it. No new texts. Not that I’d expected him to text me tonight. Even though he’d said he would.
Hadn’t he? Or had he just said “I’ll text you?” I couldn’t remember if “tonight” had been part of it. I’d replayed our interactions over and over so many times that I was starting to doubt how much was true, and how much I’d added in my head.
“Waiting for a call?” Rachel asked nonchalantly. She was bent over her book, her long blonde hair falling in front of her face.
“No,” I said, turning my cell over to hide the screen. “I’m not.”
“You sure? Because you seem a little preoccupied with your phone.”
“No, I’m not.” As if to prove it, I turned my phone off. “See? Turned it right off.”
“Okay.” She bit her lip, and I could tell she wanted to ask me about what happened last night, about where I was and what I was doing. But we weren’t that close.
We’d only met a couple of days ago, and either she was really good at protecting people’s privacy, or she didn’t feel comfortable asking me such a personal question.
We studied for a while, and I did my best to block everything out and concentrate on my work. I had my o-chem reading to do, and I took copious notes so I could go over them later. We had our first quiz next week, along with our first lab session, and I was determined to do well. If Dr. Klaxton didn’t like me as a person, that was one thing. But when it came to grades, I was going to show him I was just as capable as anyone else.
After a while, Rachel had to leave to meet a study group in the library.
As soon as she was gone, I turned my phone on, holding my breath as it booted up and the little apple appeared on the screen.
Please let me have a text, please let me have a text…
But there was nothing.
Justin hadn’t texted me.
Should I text him?
I wanted to talk to him so badly, but I knew that to text him would seem ridiculously eager. He was the type of guy that I’m sure had girls texting him and calling him all the time. Did I really want to just be another?
No. I shook my head and put my phone down, and then returned to my reading.
But fifteen minutes later, I was back to staring at
my phone.
I couldn’t stop myself.
What’s up? I typed. How’s your day going?
As soon as I hit send, fear and excitement ran through my body.
It was just a text, but it felt like so much more.
And even though there was a second of relief, what I hadn’t realized was that now I was going to be in even more agony. Because now I had to wait to see if he was going to text me back.
Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t texted me back.
Half an hour later, he still hadn’t texted me back.
Forty minutes later, he still hadn’t texted me back.
Finally, so much time had gone by that it was almost time to have frozen yogurt with Adam, so I packed up the blanket Rachel and I had been sitting on and headed back up to my room.
I put on some music and grabbed my gray and pink hoodie out of my closet. The night had been getting a little chilly, and I wanted to make sure I stayed warm.
I was just about to turn my phone off again, because I couldn’t take the anticipation, when it beeped with a text.
Day is good.
I stared at it.
Day is good?
Day is good?
He’d stripped me almost naked last night, held me in his arms, and now he was saying day is good?
Anger flared through me, and before I could even think about what I was doing, I was texting him back.
Glad to hear it. Off to have frozen yogurt with Adam. Later.
I sent it and then turned my phone off.
Hopefully he would be able to infer that Adam was the guy at the hospital with me. Of course, Justin had obviously thought Adam was kind of a wimp, but whatever.
Adam showed up little while later, which I appreciated. This was how boys were supposed to act. They were supposed to make plans with you in advance, and then come and pick you up at an agreed upon time, not just arrive at your doorstep whenever they felt like it, expecting you to just drop everything to be with them.
Adam was courteous.
He was respectful.
He was nice.
We walked to the yogurt shop. It was one of those places where you pay by the ounce, and so we filled our cups with yogurt and then piled the toppings on nice and high.