Changing Tunes (24 page)

I’m running late to my English class, which has my fucking heart pounding. I over slept after staying up late on the phone with Zeke. He didn’t get home until late, so by the time he called, I was already in bed. He sounded off, and when I woke up this morning I decided to have
the
conversation, once and for all. Every time he gets back he seems off. I’ve tried to let it go, but now it’s bothering me to the point I’m questioning our relationship. I don’t want to feel like this, I’d rather ask him straight out, even if it hurts. The insecure part of me thinks maybe he has a girlfriend back home, and he’s two-timing her with me. While I try to brush off my feelings of insecurity, I need to make sure that everything is fine with us. I tell myself that infidelity seems very unlike Zeke, but really, it’s only been a couple of months. How well can you really know a person in that length of time?

I rush as fast as I can to class and slow my descent as I reach the door. I question going in or just skipping. I decide that going in late is probably better than skipping altogether. I can’t help the ‘fuck’ that comes out of my mouth and I take a deep breath before I walk in. I feel everyone turn and stare at me. I avoid eye contact and look straight ahead to my seat. I see Nick glancing worriedly at me then back to the front of the room.

Come on, I’m not the first to be late to one of his classes, surely. Damn, I wish I were invisible.

“Ms. Davis,” Forrester sneers. “It seems you’ve lost track of time. See me after class.”

I sit down quietly and don’t utter a sound; I just nod my head in understanding.

Throughout class, Nick continues to glance between Forrester and me. I never glance at Nick. I don’t need any more ammunition headed my way and now I question my decision to come through the damn door at all.

I should have just skipped.

As soon as class is over, I remain in my seat. Nick quickly whispers, “Good luck.”

I feel frozen in my seat and I wait until every last person has left. I finally look at Forrester and he looks so smug, sitting there in his desk, like he’s God almighty. I realize just being late has provided him ammunition against me.

“Explain to me why you were late.”

Keep it short and sweet.

“I over slept.”

“And why did you over sleep, Ms. Davis?”

Um, creepy much? How is this any of his business?

I look him straight in the eyes and give him the answer he so desperately seeks.

“I was on the phone late with my boyfriend, and I over slept.” 

Smiling smugly and basically ignoring me entirely he asks, “Have you given any consideration to the assistant’s job?”

I catch him staring at my chest and giving me a mental mind fuck. I’m uncomfortable, and he doesn’t hide his lust for me. I’m taken aback by it, not to mention entirely grossed out. He looks like a dog with drool running out of his mouth. It’s sickening. 

One second he’s asking about why I’m late to his class, and the next he’s wondering if I’ve thought about the job. What is this cat up to?

I straighten my back and basically grow a pair on the spot. I don’t care if he’s my professor. He’s acted unprofessional, and I’m tired of letting him think it is okay. Instead of taking it, bowing down to him and just putting up with it, I tell him like I see it. There’s no one here, so what do I have to lose? What can he possibly do to me? I’m acing his class and this is the first time I’ve been tardy. I’ve caught him in nearly every class staring me up and down, and I know for a fact it’s been noticed by several other students.

Bring it on!

“No, I haven’t. I don’t have the time to devote to being your assistant.” I say with bite. My hands begin to shake, so I put them in my lap and hold them with my legs. “Let’s be honest, shall we?”

He looks at me with surprise, but also with intrigue and a slight smirk.

Sick fuck!

“You want me to be your assistant for more than academic reasons. Am I correct?” I don’t wait for a response; I don’t have to. I can see all over his face I’ve hit his intentions right on the money, and he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it.

My voice raises an octave and I hope he can’t sense the slight tremble in my voice. “See, here’s the thing, I’ve got a boyfriend that I love, but that’s neither here nor there. The key is I’m not the kind of person who would jump in the sack with her professor.”

I used to be that kind of person, but no, not anymore
.

He seems amused by my bravery, which kind of pisses me off. “I know your father, Ashley. I know rich girls like you, and you’re all the same.”

I don’t think my heart could have beat any harder, and it resonates in my ears.

I take another stab at it; a different approach. “Look, you’re a decent looking guy, and I have no doubt you can find someone your own age to have sex with, but I’m not interested.”

He visibly bristles at ‘decent’, like it’s a horrific word and degrades him. Interestingly, he never counters the fact I said he wanted to have sex with me. 

“What will your daddy say when he sees you turned down a good opportunity? You think that will go over well with him?” He asks cunningly.

I feel a resolve begin to take over me, along with a strength that I never knew existed. Like a flash of light, I see Mac and Zeke urging me on, telling me I’ll be fine and suddenly, I feel stronger. I pull my hands out from between my legs and begin to stand. I’m not weak and I sure as hell refuse to let him use blackmail with my father. Better yet, let him. I just don’t have it in me to care anymore.

He finds me entertaining and when I stand his eyes once again roam up and down my body giving me the heebies everywhere his eyes land.

“You know what, Professor Forrester? You do what you feel is best; I don’t care. Call my father, I don’t care anymore.” I gather my things, throwing them in my backpack and walk to the door. The moment my hands begin to turn the doorknob, he speaks, stopping me.

“This isn’t over. You could change your mind. We would have a lot of fun together, I know you would enjoy it.”

A disgusting feeling travels through my body, and I know he’s staring at my ass. I turn the knob the rest of the way, but before I open it, I turn back to him. “No, I wouldn’t. You do what you need to do. I’ll go to the school and tell them you’ve propositioned me.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I doubt they’ll believe you. All they have to do is see your record.”

“My record? What are you talking about?”

“We are all aware of your ‘horrific’ experience at the end of your senior year.”

Cold ice sweeps through me. “How do you know about that?”

He laughs a cold, calculating laugh. “Why your father, of course. He wanted to make sure we were aware of your situation prior to you attending. He also said you were very popular with the boys and to let him know if we saw a situation he needed to be aware of. Your own father didn’t even believe you. Whose word do you think he’s going to believe? Yours, or mine?”

I can’t contain my trembling body. I feel betrayed in the worst way, and by my father, no less. I feel like I’m being assaulted all over again. But instead of wandering hands and biting, I’m being bitten and slapped on the inside.

I manage to yank the door open and say three words. “Do your best!”

How I manage that statement, I will never know, but I walk away then I run as soon as I’m no longer in view of him. I run like hell all the way back to my apartment. I don’t even think about my next class, I just run.

I know something is wrong when Ashley doesn’t show up for class. I should have left, but I don’t. I stay and barely listen, feeling guilty for not walking out when I had the chance.

My brain is racked with worry for her. I pull out my phone and text her. I don’t receive a response, which makes me even more concerned. I find myself drumming my fingers on my desk, and receiving looks from fellow classmates.

I finally say, “Fuck it,” throw my things together and I leave. I notice everyone’s eyes on me, but I don’t care. Something’s wrong with Ashley, and I can’t stay and wait for class to end. She means more to me than this damn class. She’s my future, hopefully.

I cry, oh God, do I cry. I cry until I can’t cry anymore. I lay there in the quiet; a messy puddle. I realize I can either face this head on, or I can wait for it to come and bite me in the ass. But really, that’s just not an option for me anymore. With my mind made up, I immediately bounce up and grab a bag, just in case I need it. I rush into my bedroom, haphazardly throwing things in it. I grab my phone and text Mac, letting her know we’ll talk later, that I’m going back home to deal with my father and I may not be back until tomorrow, and ask her to let Zeke know.

I should text Zeke, too, but I don’t. He’d only want to come and he can’t. This is something I need to do on my own.

I rush out of the apartment and lock the door. In my haste to get away quickly, I bump into Austin leaving his room. He’s like lead and I bounce off of him.

“Slow down, little lady.”

He notices my tear streaked face and quickly begins asking questions. “What happened? Did Zeke do this? I’ll fucking kill him.”

I shake my head and finally find my voice. “No, it’s not. I’ve got to go.” I stutter out, “I have to go home. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Austin grabs my arm lightly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sure don’t look it.”

I try to placate him by joking, “Gee thanks, Austin, just what a girl wants to hear.”

“You know what I mean, Ash.”

“I’m fine, really. If you see Mac just tell her okay? I sent her a text already, but just in case, please?”

He runs his hand through his hair, conflicted. “Fine, but you better let me know you got there safely. Just call, or something, when you get to wherever you’re going?”

I lean over and give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks Austin, you’re a good friend.”