A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(69)

“Not until March.” She shakes her head. “That’s kind of an issue.”

Kind of? It’s a total issue. He had sex with a minor.

The disappointment that fills me about this is almost overwhelming. I thought he was a good teacher. Kind and looking out for us. Now I feel like he’s just on the hunt for a new girlfriend every semester and this one happened to screw up in a major way by getting pregnant.

Did he really think he could’ve taken advantage of me like that?

“It’s a major issue,” I murmur, and I spot the irritation flickering in her gaze.

“Look, when you fall in love, age doesn’t matter. Not that you would understand,” she bites out.

Ouch. “I’m trying to understand. I know you’re in love with him. I can see it in your eyes.”

Her expression softens. She’s just on the defensive, which I can’t blame her for. “I am. I’m pretty sure he loves me too, but he’s been so weird lately. Until I talked to him today.” She’s beaming and I swear she seems downright radiant. “We’re meeting tonight, and we’re going to talk.”

“Where are you meeting him?”

“I’m leaving with him later. He’s still working, but I’m sneaking off with him in his car back to his house.” Her expression turns solemn. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? If we get caught…”

She doesn’t even need to finish the sentence. They will both be in so much trouble. Especially Fig.

“I won’t tell,” I promise. “Just—be careful, okay, Maggie? Are you sure he’s okay with you being pregnant? If anyone finds out about this, his career is over.”

“It’s all going to work out, I just know it. He loves me. He promised he would take care of me.” She grimaces, running her hand over the front of her stomach.

I’m immediately concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Sometimes I get a weird cramp. I’m fine.” Her smile is faint as if she’s having to force it. “How are you? What’s up with you and Crew?”

I frown. “What do you mean? Nothing’s going on with me and Crew.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “He sits behind you now in English. And he’s always watching you. As if he’s imagining you naked.”

My cheeks go hot. “I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, I do. I know that look. I think he likes you.”

“We’ve been getting along, for the sake of our project.”

I’m such a liar. It’s more than that, I just can’t admit it. Even after Maggie shared her deepest secret, I don’t know if I can trust her.

Or myself.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Maggie’s smile is knowing. “Want to know my prediction?”

“No.”

She ignores my answer. “I have a feeling you’re going to have a boyfriend by the beginning of the new year. And his name is Crew Lancaster.”





TWENTY-SEVEN





WREN





Don’t go.

Those two words whisper in my mind when I go to the dining hall early to eat dinner. I sit with Lara and Brooke, not really listening as they gossip about everyone in our class.

Once I’m done with dinner, I head back to my room, those same two words pounding a rhythm in my brain as I walk, the sidewalk slushy and wet from the melting snow. The sky is already dark, and soon, it’ll freeze over.

Hopefully I won’t break my neck when I head over to Crew’s.

No. Don’t go.

I take a shower and wash my hair. Shave my legs and every other area I can think of. Slather my favorite body lotion all over my skin. Blow dry my hair, curling the ends with my rounded brush. Put a thin layer of mascara on my lashes and rub my favorite lip balm across my lips. The one that makes them pinker.

I put on the prettiest underwear I own—a pair of pink cotton panties with a lacy waistband and a bralette I somehow convinced my mother to let me purchase a few years ago when we went shopping together. It’s white and lacy and I’ve never worn it.

Until now.

My intent is clear. I’m going to Crew’s and I’m wearing the sexiest underwear I own, which isn’t that sexy, but whatever.

I’m trying.

Once I slip on a black hoodie and my favorite pair of black leggings, I pull on an old pair of black UGG boots, I don’t mind getting wet in the snow, and then throw on my puffer coat, going to the mirror so I can check out my outfit.

Boring. Normal. I don’t look any different. I definitely don’t look like a girl who’s hoping a boy will slip his hand in her panties again.

An aggravated noise leaves me and I grab my phone and my dorm building pass, locking my door before I leave.

No one notices me walk out. Not even the RA who sits at the front desk. She’s too busy fielding questions from a group of girls surrounding her desk, and I didn’t care enough to stand around and listen to what they were complaining about.

It’s cold and dark, and I walk carefully along the sidewalk, noting how slippery it is. No one else is out, and there’s mist in the air, making me grateful I wore my hat. I pull up the hood on my sweatshirt, giving my freshly dried hair double protection.