005

Elena Carson

I don’t wait for him to say anything else before I walk out of his office.

The door clicks shut behind me, and I keep walking, fast and angry. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. My cheeks are burning too and my hands won’t stop shaking. I just need to get the fuck away from him.

Who the hell does he think he is?

Drop his class? Just like that? No explanation, no real reason, just “I don’t need complications” like I’m some kind of problem he can erase with a few cold words. I shove open the main doors of the building and step outside, the fresh air hitting my face. It doesn’t help. My mind is spiraling.

I need this class. It’s extra credits, and every other elective I wanted is already closed for registration. If I drop Psychology now, I’ll fall behind. It’ll mess up my entire schedule and delay graduation. I can’t afford that. Not after everything I’ve worked for.

And the worst part? He knows it. Or at least he should. He’s supposed to be this brilliant professor, right? So why is he acting like my presence alone is a complication he can’t handle?

I’m so lost in my head that I don’t see Josh until I almost crash into him.

“Whoa…” He steadies me with a light touch on my arm, blue eyes wide with surprise before they crinkle in amusement. “Either you’re having a terrible morning… or I’ve missed a memo about emotional disasters being contagious.”

I pull back, flustered. “I’m fine.”

Josh Bennett, final-year performance arts major who always looks like he’s halfway through a joke.

Josh raises an eyebrow. “That sounded convincing in a ‘please don’t ask again’ kind of way.”

I don’t smile back. I can’t. My chest feels too tight.

“Okay… rough morning then,” he says, more gently this time. He studies me for a second. “Is there a problem?”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “I’m used to problems.”

I start walking away before he can say anything else. His voice follows me.

“That’s usually what people say before things get worse.”

I don’t respond. I just keep walking toward Nora’s usual parking spot, my mind still replaying Killian’s cold expression. The way he looked at me like I was something he needed to get rid of. It stings.

Nora is already waiting in the car, scrolling on her phone. The second I open the door and drop into the passenger seat, she clocks me.

“Spill,” she says immediately. “You look like you want to murder someone.”

I slam the door harder than necessary and lean my head back against the seat. “Your brother is teaching my Psychology class.”

Nora blinks. “Wait… what?”

“Yeah. Professor Davenport. In the flesh.” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. “And he pulled me aside after class and told me to drop it. Just like that. No real explanation. Said he doesn’t need ‘complications’ in his class.”

Nora’s mouth falls open. “He said what? Why would he care if you’re in his class or not?”

“I don’t know!” I snap, frustration bubbling over. I’m embarrassed, angry, and way too unsettled for my own good. “I barely said two words to him and he’s already trying to kick me out. Who does he think he is?”

Nora starts the car, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like Killian. He’s usually… distant, but not petty. Want me to talk to him?”

“No.” The word comes out fast. I cross my arms tighter over my chest. “I can handle it myself. I’m not dropping the class. I need those credits, and every other elective is full. He doesn’t get to decide that for me just because he’s… him.”

Nora glances at me, eyebrows raised. “You sound really worked up about this.”

“I’m not worked up,” I lie. “I’m just… irritated.”

The car falls quiet for a moment. I stare out the window, trying to calm the chaotic mix of emotions swirling inside me. Anger. Embarrassment. And that stupid, traitorous flutter I felt when he looked at me too long in his office.

I hate it.

I hate that after seven years, one conversation with him can still throw me off balance. I’m supposed to be over him. I am over him. Or at least I was, until he came back and decided to ruin my perfectly fine semester.

Nora finally speaks, softer this time. “You sure you don’t want me to say something? He listens to me sometimes.”

“I’m sure.” I straighten in my seat, trying to regain some control. “I’m staying in that class. I’m not intimidated by Professor Davenport.”

Even as I say the words, my stomach twists.

Because deep down, I know the truth.

I’m not just intimidated.

Because something about him makes me feel like I’m already losing control. And that scares me more than anything he actually said.