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“Meghan?” Her name slips out before I even think it all the way through, and Ana quickly punches me lightly on the shoulder.
“Meghan would never! She’s stubborn but she’s not cruel.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. This is just…I don’t know. I’ve given up blocking them because I can’t keep up and I just don’t like logging on here to upload pictures and seeing such hateful comments. It’s only on my pictures too, never my clients. That feels targeted.”
“I’m sorry babe.” Ana’s arm wraps around my shoulders and she pulls me into a tight hug. “I hate to say it but a troll storm like this is just something you gotta ride out.”
“You’re right.” I nod firmly. “You’re right. They’re not worth it and I don’t need some stranger on the internet affecting my mood.”
“That’s my girl!” Ana pats my shoulder and slides back into her seat. “I ordered the pizza and got a deal. It’ll be here in thirty minutes, so I say we absolutely knuckle through these last questions, then we can eat until we’re stuffed and take a nap.”
“A nap?” I eye her over the top of my phone and she sticks out her tongue.
“Yes, a nap to absorb good food and all this knowledge.”
“Alright, sounds like a plan. I gotta scoot to the bathroom first though.” My phone slides back into my pocket and I hurry off to the bathroom, following the cry of my bladder. But as I sit there, Ana’s early comment about the pill comes back to me. Taking out my phone, I intend to google just how good the pill is at preventing pregnancy but a notification from Instagram catches my eye.
A pulse of tension shoots down my spine and my heart pounds into my throat.
On my last photo, the most recent comment stares up at me and I can almost taste the venom in the words.
That fat bitch is going to get what’s coming to her and I can’t fucking wait.
What the hell did I do to that person?
23
FINN
Allowing my students time to study in class makes me look like the cool teacher. Being on hand so I can help them is a bonus, of course, but it gives me extra time to sit and mark all of the final assignments. The sooner I complete these, the sooner I can tell which students are going to need a little extra help in the exam department.
Plus, it allows me to look up from my desk and stare up at Emma without anyone being suspicious. Every second she’s in my class is intoxicating. All I can think about is how sweet she tasted on my lips, how perfectly hot she was around my cock, and how addictive her moans were. And then, as I replay the sweet fantasy in my mind, I’m reminded of what else happened at the cabin.
How easily I could have lost her. No amount of apology has eased the confused guilt that sits like a pebble just beneath my ribs, reminding me how close I came to losing the woman I was rapidly falling for.
I watch her now as she leans over and confers with her friend, who looks to be in physical pain. I’ve learned that Ana merely looks like that when she’s utterly stuck on a question, and by the way Ana’s face relaxes, it seems like Emma has helped her through it.
That’s my girl.
I turn back to the assignment on my desk, and wince. It’s a story belonging to one of my students, Mike, but I grow concerned halfway through the story. There’s something dark about it, painfully so and it’s enough that when the bell rings, I call on Mike to stay behind. As Mike walks up to my desk, I daringly wink at Emma who swiftly sticks out her tongue and then dances out of the lecture hall with Ana.
“Is there a problem?” Mike stands at the side of my desk, his gaze down and when he spots his assignment on my desk, his brow furrows deeply. “Am I failing?”
“Failing?” Taking off my glasses, I rub at the bridge of my nose to ease some of the tired tension building behind my eyes. “No, Mike. I just wanted to go over some aspects of your story and check in with you to see how you’re doing.”
A flash of confusion crosses Mike’s face. “How I’m doing?”
“Yes. See—” I pick up his story and flip through a few pages. “I’ve noticed a growing theme in your work where the violence lacks cause.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some of the violence that occurs against your main female character is without cause and seems more gratuitous than anything else. There’s no deeper meaning, no character arc involved. It reads as violence for the sake of violence and not for the sake or purpose of progressing the story.”
“Does all violence need a reason?” Mike asks, adjusting the strap of his backpack against his shoulder. “Some people are just cruel for the sake of it.”
“That is true,” I agree. “But your assignment is to focus on how every little detail can tie into a bigger plot. I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell the reader by having such acts of violence for no reason at all.”
“You’ve said before that writing is about working through frustrations and feelings right?” Mike rapidly licks his lips. “That’s all that is.”
