I touch the side of my nose and then let my hand fall to my lap.
Cecily:I’m not searching for you. I just want to see you so I can avoid you.
As soon as I send the text, I contemplate unsending it. No idea why.
It’s true. All I ever wanted was to avoid Jeremy, so why am I plagued with these types of thoughts?
The moment he reads it, a stupid sensation of regret courses through me.
He doesn’t reply right away, and when he does, my spine jerks upright.
Jeremy:You still search for me.
Cecily:Did you miss the part where I want to avoid you?
Jeremy:I only read the part where you want to see me.
Cecily:I don’t want to see you.
Jeremy:Does that mean the DM from last night wasn’t meant for me?
I pause and clench my fingers around the phone. That’s a good question. Was that message meant for him? I was so sure I clicked on Landon’s IG profile, but I didn’t.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Lan wasn’t the one I wanted. Messaging Jeremy wasn’t a drunken mistake. It was what I was secretly yearning for since that night at the Heathens’ mansion.
I just needed liquid courage so I could act on it.
Cecily:Can you forget about that?
He takes a few moments to reply, and when he does, the tone reads final. Clipped.
Jeremy:Be there tonight, and remember the word that can end it all. Smoke, was it? That’s the only courtesy I will give you. If you hide, we’ll do it my way.
My fingers shake so badly that I nearly drop the phone.
There’s no need for him to voice it so I’ll understand what will happen tonight.
Jeremy will pick up where he left off that night in the forest.
He’s going to chase me.
My heartbeat escalates at the prospect, and I drop the bottle of water in my attempt to grab it.
I reach down for it, but a masculine hand picks it up and offers it to me. “Here.”
My gaze meets with that of one of my classmates, Zayn. He’s quiet, like me, definitely studious, and has a peaceful aura like a Buddhist monk’s.
He dresses in designer jeans and shoes and has a prim hairstyle.
We’ve been in the same classes for the past four years, since secondary school, and we’ve barely spoken to each other. But I’ve always appreciated his low-key presence.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
He beams. “The professor has been looking at you, so you might want to hide your phone for a bit.”
“Oh.” I tuck it on my lap. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“My pleasure. I’m Zayn.”