This is getting more interesting by the second.
A sudden, jarring cough from the back of the room makes me jump. That asshole. God for-fucking-bid, I smile at a guy. I won’t look at him; I absolutely will not give him the satisfaction of knowing he caught my attention.
If Dean notices, he doesn’t show it. “Does that mean you would come over anyway?”
“Um, we’re supposed to be talking about the project,” Zoe reminds us. I get the feeling she doesn’t like the way Dean is focused on me. Posey, on the other hand, is in her world, typing notes faster than I’ve ever been able to type anything on my keyboard. She’s not even looking at the keys. If we weren’t the same age, I’d say I want to be her when I grow up.
“Of course we are.” I know better than to promise things I can’t follow through on, and the fact is, I might talk a big game, but I don’t know how much I can get away with. Not yet. “I hate to say it, but if we’re going to get together to talk about our progress, I might have to ask for, like, Zoom calls or a group chat or something. For now, anyway.”
“Right. Frankenstein wouldn’t want you out of his sight, would he?” Dean shoots a look toward the back of the room, where I know Zeke is probably glaring straight back at him. I didn’t know I had this much self-control, enough to keep me from craning my neck to see Zeke’s reaction to me. I can almost feel the rage coming from him, though, all the way across the room. He doesn’t want me for himself, but nobody else can have me, either. It’s disgusting.
But what Dean said is right, even if I don’t like it. “Yeah, things are a little weird. We’re still kind of getting our footing. I don’t think my dad understood what he was asking him to do before he sent us here.”
“Parents never understand,” Posey agrees, nodding slowly. “Mine think college is the way it used to be back when they went. So what if that was, like, all the way back in the 90s.” Dean and Zoe both grunt their agreement.
It occurs to me I don’t know if my dad went to college. I don’t know much about him at all. Not that I haven’t tried to find out what I can, but he’s not exactly Mr. Warm and Fuzzy. If he ever sat down with me for a heart-to-heart the way they do on sitcoms, I’d probably faint.
“Fine. Maybe let’s do a Zoom call in a few days after we think about our era and what we’re researching.” The three of us nod at Dean’s suggestion. What a relief. I was afraid things would start getting weird if any of them insisted on me going out with them. Not that I don’t want to. I’m just not sure I could manage it, and I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.
I don’t think I’ve ever resented Zeke the way I do now. Not even at the party when he made a big scene of dragging me out like he owned me. It was one thing when I was going against his rules, but now he’s dictating my decisions without lifting a finger. He’s in my head.
“No, you know what? If you want to get together tonight or sometime this weekend, I’ll make it work.” I’m not going to be the poor, pitiful girl everybody feels sorry for. And I’m not going to let Zeke rule my decisions.
Dean’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What do you think?” He looks at the girls, both of whom shrug.
“I guess so. I could hang out for an hour or two.” Posey looks at Zoe, who nods and tries to look disinterested. I can tell she’s anything but. She’s barely stopped looking at Dean since he sat down.
“Awesome. Ten o’clock? I’ll send you all my address.” We exchange contact info, and with each passing second, my determination strengthens. I’m not going to spend all my time here talking to people over a computer. I can’t live my whole life locked up.
Once the class is dismissed, Dean winks at me. “Let me know if you need any help getting out tonight. I could always come over and talk to Frankenstein for you.”
“Thanks, but I have it handled.” He is cute, and he’s pretty nice, too. I mean, only a real idiot would think all he wants to do is talk about school stuff, but I don’t care. That’s not all I’m here for. I’m not trying to lose my virginity to this guy or anything, but drinking and flirting is another story.
“What the fuck was that?” Zeke growls over the top of my head when I meet him at the back of the room. I can only imagine he’s looking at Dean. “Who’s that asshole?”
“He’s part of my study group. God, relax.”
“I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“Good for you. I guess you don’t need glasses yet. Your eyes are working just fine.” I make it a point to speed walk away from the desks to the end of the hall and down the steps. He has no choice but to follow me, which means he can’t hang around and start trouble with Dean.
“You know he doesn’t give a shit about sociology, right? That’s not what he wants to study.”
“Would you get over it? We’re doing a group project, the way everybody else is. Jesus, you’d think this was the Middle Ages or some shit. Like I’m not allowed to talk to any males except for you and maybe my professors.” He only growls again, muttering under his breath. There’s no need to ask him to repeat himself, and honestly, I don’t care.
I’m going out tonight. I’m going to live like a normal person.
Now, all I have to do is figure out how to make that happen.