Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
That gets my attention.
Karolina flicks her fingers in a familiar gesture—dismissing something that’s actually bothering her as though it isn’t a big deal.
“I can deal with Professor Asshole,” she asserts.
I chuckle.
That’s my fierce Karolina.
I was an asshole that day, but the worst of the pain over her rejection is fading; I’m simply determined now.
Amala giggles. “You can’t call him that to his face.”
“Why not?” Rich challenges, puffing out his chest. “If Lena doesn’t, I will. He really is an arsehole.”
Karolina shakes her head, and her straight, shiny brown hair sways around her delicate face. “Please don’t. The last thing I want is to antagonize our new professor. I’d rather not get a failing grade because I pissed him off.”
“If he tries to fail us, my father will talk to the head of department. Then Professor Arsehole will be out of a job. He thinks he’s so fucking important, but he’s just a poor first-year lecturer. I checked his bio, and he’s barely out of his PhD. My dad could get him blacklisted from all the universities in England if I asked him to.”
“Tempting,” Karolina replies blithely. “But I’d rather make it impossible for him to fail me. The best way to show him that he’s wrong about me is to be so competent that he has to give me a good grade.”
Amala nods in agreement. “Yes, that’s the best way.”
Rich pouts. “I still think you should let me call my father. He’ll take care of it.”
“No, thank you.” Karolina shuts him down, and she doesn’t bother to sound placating about it.
She really isn’t impressed with his threats to run to Daddy to solve his problems.
That’s my girl.
Pride heats my chest, chasing away some of my anger at the boy’s proximity to her.
I keep watching their lame little party as more of their course mates mingle with them. Usually, I’m content to simply watch Karolina doing anything—cooking, writing, masturbating—but I can’t ease my resentment that she’s enjoying the company of others rather than calling me.
Her new friends start to filter out of the party, some of them stumbling slightly as they head for the door. Amala and Rich linger, and my irritation ratchets up a notch.
“Do you want to come out dancing with us?” Amala asks, checking her phone. “Some of the others have gone to the club. No tequila shots, I promise.”
“You go ahead,” Karolina encourages. “I need to get an early start at the library tomorrow.”
“So dedicated.” Rich laughs, as though her tenacity and intellect are amusing. “You’re an inspiration, Lena. Mind if I join you?”
“Sure. I’m planning to be there around eight, after my morning run.”
Rich slaps a hand to his forehead dramatically. “You’re getting up for a run before eight? The morning after a party?”
“I haven’t even finished two ciders,” she replies. “It won’t be a problem.”
“You don’t know how to have fun, Lena. Don’t worry. We’ll show you.”
He slings his arms around Amala and Karolina, and I see red.
Both women instantly tense, and he quickly frees them from his proprietary touch.
“I’m going to dance,” Amala announces. “I’d love to meet you at the library, though. Probably around ten.”
Karolina offers her a genuine smile. “That sounds great. Have fun!”
The last is directed at Rich too, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on the subtle dismissal.
“I’ll help you clean up, at least,” he insists.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
But he’s already bustling around the lounge, picking up empty bottles. “Where’s your recycling?”
“In the kitchen. But seriously, I’ve got it.”
Amala starts to lend a hand, but Karolina stops her.
“Go on,” she urges. “You don’t want to miss out on dancing. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Alright, but I’m hosting next time,” her new friend offers.
“Deal.”
Amala leaves, but Rich is still in the kitchen. I check the feed from the other camera I’ve hidden there. He’s washing dishes, whistling to himself as though he couldn’t be more fucking pleased.
“Leave that,” Karolina insists. “I’ll take care of it in the morning.”
“I’ve already started.” He refuses to acknowledge her request.
“I need to get some sleep.”
Another kind dismissal that he chooses to ignore.
The urge to storm out of my flat above hers, race down the stairs, and drag him out of her space is almost overwhelming.
Rich dries his hands on the dish towel and then steps toward her. His hands brace on the counter, bracketing her hips. He leans in, seeking a sloppy kiss.
She turns her face away before I slip into madness. I’m clinging to my control by my fingernails.
“You need to leave,” she asserts, cold and firm.
“Come on,” he cajoles. “Just one kiss.”
“No. Seriously, Rich. Leave.”
He leans in again, smashing his mouth down on hers. She tries to recoil, but he gasps her skull and holds her in place to steal the disgusting kiss.
She shoves him away sharply. In his drunken state, he stumbles back, barely catching himself on the sink before he falls to the floor.