Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) (173 page)

I stand on the edge of the throng and wait. After a few empty minutes in which my mind tries to backtrack and think about the things the doctor said, I decide I’m long overdue for a distraction.

So I take my phone out and text James.

Me:
Fifty of us outside, where the fuck are you?

I wait for an answer. Wait and wait, and then wait some more. It never comes.

Instead, the doors open. And, in a moment eerily similar to what happened last week, a girl comes out.

But not just any girl. It’s
Summer.

She looks like a cat who has just swallowed the canary.

She walks out swaying her hips, with her head high and her shoulders held back. The crowd parts for her. Every step is followed by a chorus of whispers.

She sees me and gives the most triumphant smile. Then, before I can say anything, she flips her hair over one shoulder, shows me the finger again, and sashays the opposite way.

I start after her when a voice stops me in my tracks.

“Ms. Adams,” James calls from the doorway. “How good of you to join us.” He smiles at me in an almost mocking way. “Come in.”

I take one last look at Summer, who’s taking her sweet time walking away, then enter the office last in line.

“Good girl,” James says under his breath as I pass. He says it so quietly I’m not sure I was meant to hear.

***

James—ahem, Professor
Landon
—actually put some effort into this session. It’s not a simple meet-and-greet like last time.

After he wraps things up, the fan girls
immediately
jump their prey. They surround him like bees, while I’m left waiting on the fringes.

The whole session, I’ve been trying to get a read on him. What was Summer doing here with him alone? Why did she look so happy when she left?

My thoughts turn to the worst scenarios. She came here to seduce him. She succeeded. Why else would she look so elated?

I
hope
it was all an act. A ploy to wheedle a reaction out of me. She probably just
wants
me to think something happened between them.

But I’ve seen James’ appetite for women. Why would he turn Summer down? Lord knows she has a better figure than I do, and those thick, luscious curls put my straw-like, raven hair to shame.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t mind. Hell, I’d tell her to go for it. My hookup with James, back when it still resided in the realm of my own rules, would have actually made that preferable. She’d get what she wanted. I’d be following my instructions for myself. I wouldn’t be stuck in my current position: in danger of developing things that begin with the letter
F
.

Feelings.

But I’m a sucker for James. I mean, fuck, it’s been weeks since I’ve looked at another guy.

They all pale in comparison to him.

So yes, the thought of Summer having come here to hook up with James has me uneasy. There might even be a small hint—just a sapling!—of jealousy in my gut.

I can’t help it.

What makes it worse is that I
know
Summer would try to hook up with James to spite me.

I would never have done that. When I slept with James, I was blissfully ignorant that my bestie had eyes on the same man.

So I wait on the fringes as James entertains the horde’s ceaseless personal questions. I take my phone out to check for news from Summer. None.

As expected.

Maybe Summer and I are only compatible on the surface level. We
used
to be best friends. But if I had met her in grad school for the first time, would I ever keep her around?

No. No, I don’t think I would. The worst thing is that I’m sure she feels exactly the same way about me.

She can be sweet at times, of course. Like when she stumbled in on me crying. But how quickly her emotions changed when she saw James calling.

I text her anyway:

Me:
Talk when I get home?

I doubt I’ll get an answer. But I made my peace offering.

I wait as the crowd around James thins out. He makes eye contact with me, for the first time since I’ve been here, not as Professor Landon, but as James. A slight tilt of his head is all the acknowledgment I get.

Then he steps back from the groupies and holds both hands up. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have,” he announces. “I’ll be seeing you at the next lecture. Thanks for coming.”

The flow of students starts out the door. I wait on the sidelines. I want to be alone with him before I say what I have to say.

Just as the last straggler leaves, my phone buzzes with a text.

Summer:
Don’t bother.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m about to reply but James calls my name.

“Celeste,” he says. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“Are you?” I ask. “You were the one who threatened to fail me if I didn’t show up.”

“That requirement was fulfilled.” He sits behind his desk and stretches out. “I’m surprised you’re here after everybody else left.”

“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be. You and I need to talk.”

“Oh, that we surely do,” he agrees. He reaches into his desk and takes out a liquor bottle and two glasses. They clink together when he sets them on the table.

“Do you always drink on the job?” I ask him. “I haven’t seen you once without a bottle in hand.”

He
tsks
and pours himself a drink. “I take it you disapprove,” he murmurs, looking up at me with one eyebrow raised. “A pity. I was going to offer you some.”

“And is that what you offered Summer when she showed up?” I snap. My hands fly over my mouth. That is
not
what I intended to say.

His eyes shine. “You and Summer… have quite an interesting relationship, don’t you?” he asks. He leans back.

I stalk towards the desk. “You’re egging me on,” I accuse. “What did Summer want? Why did she leave here so happy?”

“Oh, this and that,” James says. He swirls the liquor. He’s playing with me, and right now, I want to hate him for it.

“This and that,” I say dryly. I cross my arms. “I assure you, she wants a hell of a lot more than ‘this and that’ from you.”

“And what if she does?” James asks. “Am I supposed to refuse her? What if she came in here, ready and willing? Am I supposed to turn her down?” He tilts his chair forward so that he’s closer to me. “You and I aren’t exclusive, you know.”

“So what, you just go whoring it up with all of your students?” I spit. My shitty mood is made no better by his casual nonchalance. “Or did Summer come here and demand to be fucked, just like I did the other day, and you gave way to temptation, with no regard for the consequences?”

“Why Celeste,” he murmurs, that stupid amused smirk still plastered on his face. “If I didn’t know any better, I‘d say you’re jealous.”

I scoff. “As if. Like I give two shits about where you stick you dick.”

He tilts his head to the side. “You make it sound so crude.” He snaps to attention. “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well you fucking should!” I yell across the table.

I catch myself. I’m breathing hard, blood is pounding in my ears, and I have absolutely no right to be pissed at him. Like
he
said, we’re not exclusive. And like
I
know, I have to stick to my rules.

Or at least, get back to them.

He taps his lips. “Temper, temper,” he mutters.

“Oh, fuck off!” I spit, and surge out of my seat and out the room.

31.

I’m fuming. I walk all over campus, no destination in mind, no goal at all.

I just need to be
away
. To forget everything and everyone. To not worry—or even think—about my health.

I put up a good front. Summer wouldn’t know anything’s wrong with me. Neither would James. I’ll brush both of them off, and everybody-fucking-else, if it means I retain some normalcy in my life.

I walk and walk and walk, shooting evil glares at anybody who dares make eye contact with me.

A guy smiles at me from across the way. I scowl back, and he shies away.

I walk until it gets late. I don’t like being out alone at night. I check my phone one last time for any messages from Summer or James—there are none—and turn toward home.

But as I’m climbing up the stairs to our apartment, I get the distinct feeling something is wrong. I can’t pinpoint why. All I know is that there’s a strange, negative energy in the air.

I reach our floor. I walk down the hallway, my apprehension building. Why? I don’t know.

I stick my key in the lock. I pull the door open…

And am greeted by a solid wall.

Shit.

Summer’s made a barricade in the doorway. My mattress and bedframe block the bottom half. The top is taken up by our living room shelves and a bunch of boxes.

I push against it, but it doesn’t budge. It’s reinforced. I look through a gap and see the stove. The goddamn stove!

I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so ticked off.

“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter.

I bang against the rubbish. “Summer! Summer, let me in!”

She doesn’t answer.

“Summer, oh my God, I know you can hear me, let me in! This isn’t funny.”

Still, no answer.

“Summer!” I keep slamming my hand. “Summer! Fuck, let me in! This is my apartment too!”

There’s no response.

I groan and try to push through it again. I put my shoulder against the bed, really dig my feet in, and give it all I’ve got. I push and heave and push…

It doesn’t budge. The structure might as well be welded in place for all the give it grants.

I grit my teeth in frustration. “Summer!” I scream. “Goddammit, Summer!”

My foot slips, and I go sliding back. I catch myself before hitting the floor. Angrily, I swipe the hair out of my face.

“Summer, I can’t believe this. Summer. Ugh!” I kick at the damned blockade. It shakes a little, but that’s all. I know there’s no getting through.

How much shit she must have piled up on the other side, I cannot even fathom.

“You’re really not going to let me in?” I cry out, frustrated, annoyed, and beyond exasperated. “You know how childish this is, don’t you? It’s fucking infantile! You know what?
Fine
. If you want to be like that,
fine
. You’re the one who’s going to have to get out tomorrow. You’re the one who’s going to have to take apart this entire structure. Not me. You’re the one who’s going to be late for class tomorrow. Not me.”

Though where I’m going to spend the night, I have no idea.

“You’re the one who’s going to have to apologize for this shit,” I continue, “because it’s way past being a joke, Summer. This isn’t funny. You hear me?” I kick the barricade again. “This…”
kick
, “isn’t…”
kick
, “fucking…”
kick, kick
, “—funny!”

And then I turn away and slam the door on her so hard the entire hallway shakes.

Just then, the elevator doors open. My disgruntled-looking downstairs neighbor emerges.

She sees me and pounces. “I warned you before,” she says, waggling her finger at me. “I warned you. I told you that you couldn’t make this much noise. I’d report you. And guess what, sweetheart? I called the building supervisor up this time. He’s coming right now. He’s going to have a good long
chat
with you and your reckless roommate. Maybe,” Her features come together in a superior gloat. “Maybe he’ll even give you an eviction warning. Wouldn’t that be something? Oh, the other residents are going to be so pleased with me when they find out I was the one who got you busted.”

“Oh, for the love of…” I stride toward her. She braces herself, the tiny old lady, as if readying for a physical attack.

But her steely expression turns to one of surprise when I bustle right past her, ignoring her completely, and take the fire exit stairs down.

32.

It’s dark and it’s cold on the street, and I
hate
being outside at night. I can’t go home. Where do I turn?

I consider the library. It’s open 24/7 for everyone studying. But it’s all the way on the other side of campus. I wouldn’t feel safe making the trek out there now.

There is one other option.

James.

I take out my phone and scroll to his name. Really, right now, what choice do I have?

I hit call.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hello, Celeste.”

“I need your help,” I say.

“Really.”

“Yes. You have to pick me up.”

“Do I? After the stunt you pulled running out on me,
again
?”

“Look, James, I’ve had a really long day, and trust me, I wouldn’t be calling you if I had any alternative. But I don’t. So here I am, completely at your mercy. So shoot me for asking for help.”

“You don’t sound particularly distressed.”

“That’s because I’m fucking pissed off, James! Look…” I take a deep breath. “I’m asking you for one favor. This one time. My roommate locked me out, and I have nowhere to go. I’m standing in front of my building freezing my ass off. The damn entrance light is flickering. It’s going to go out at any moment. Are you going to help me, or not?”

“What exactly are you asking me, Celeste?” He’s toying with me, the asshole. “What would you like me to do? Should I call Summer, perhaps, and try to smooth things out?”

“I’m asking you to pick me the fuck up!” I explode. I pause, close my eyes, and rub the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m really fucking angry! You know? And I wouldn’t be calling you now if I wasn’t desperate. Are you going to help me, James, or are you going to leave me out here on my own? Do you want me to beg? Because honestly, after the day I’ve had? I’m willing to do anything just to get it over with.”

“Celeste, relax.” His voice is calm and certain. “I grabbed my car keys as soon as I figured out what you needed. I’ll be there soon.”

***

James’ sleek, black Porsche pulls up to the curb. I walk around the front and get in.

“I had a feeling you would call,” he says when I close the door.