TESSLYN'S POV
"You're not eating."
Callum's voice pulls me back to reality. I'm sitting across from him at the campus café, fork frozen halfway to my mouth. My pasta is cold. How long have I been staring at nothing?
"Sorry." I force myself to take a bite. It tastes like cardboard. "Just tired."
"First day exhaustion?" He grins, reaching across to squeeze my hand. "How were your classes? Especially that literature one you were excited about?"
My stomach drops. "Fine. It was fine."
"Just fine? Come on, Tess. You've been talking about Advanced Literature for weeks. What's the professor like? Old and boring?"
Young and devastating and I slept with him two weeks ago.
"He's... normal," I manage. "Just a regular professor. Nothing special."
Callum laughs. "You sound disappointed. Were you hoping for some hot young teacher to make class interesting?"
If only he knew. If only he knew that "hot young teacher" is exactly what I got, and it's a nightmare, not a fantasy.
"Yeah, right," I mutter. "Because that's what I need right now. More complications."
He doesn't catch the bitter edge in my voice. Just keeps talking about his business class, his new friends, how great university is going to be for us.
I nod at the right times. Make appropriate sounds. But my mind is miles away.
In a classroom. Watching Professor Murdoch—Thayer—lecture about forbidden love.
The irony was so thick I could choke on it.
"Tess? Hello?" Callum waves a hand in front of my face. "You're doing it again. The zoning out thing."
"Sorry. I'm here."
"Are you?" His expression shifts. Concern mixing with something else. Suspicion? "You've been weird since classes started. Distracted. Is everything okay?"
No. Nothing is okay. My one-night stand is my professor and someone sent him a threatening text and I have office hours with him tomorrow and I don't know how to be in the same room without remembering his hands and—
"Everything's great," I lie smoothly. "Just adjusting. It's a big change, you know?"
He relaxes. "Yeah, I get it. But hey, we're doing this together. That's what matters, right?"
Together. The word feels hollow.
Because I'm sitting here with my boyfriend while thinking about another man. A man I'm supposed to forget. A man who's now in a position of power over my academic future.
"Right," I echo. "Together."
Later, I'm in my dorm room trying to do homework when Rowan bursts in without knocking.
"Okay, spill."
I look up from my laptop. "Spill what?"
"Whatever's going on with you." She flops onto my bed. "You've been acting weird all day. Even weirder than usual post-Callum-cheating weird."
"I'm fine."
"Liar." She narrows her eyes. "Is it Callum? Did he do something already? Because I swear if that boy—"
"It's not Callum."
"Then what?" She sits up suddenly, eyes widening. "Oh my God. Is it a guy? Did you meet someone?"
My face must give something away because she squeals.
"YOU DID! You met someone! Who is it? When? How? Tell me everything!"
"Rowan—"
"Is it someone from class? Please say it's not one of Callum's douchey friends. Oh! Is it that cute TA from orientation? The one with the—"
"It's my literature professor."
The words escape before I can stop them.
Silence. Complete, total silence.
Rowan's mouth falls open. "I'm sorry. Did you just say your PROFESSOR?"
"No! I mean—" I panic. "Not like that. It's just... he's really good at teaching. I'm interested in the subject. That's all."
She studies my face. "Tesslyn Marie Verne. You're blushing."
"I'm not!"
"You are! Your face is red!" She crawls across the bed, getting closer. "Oh my God. Is he hot? He's hot, isn't he?"
"Rowan, stop."
"How hot are we talking? Like normal attractive or like 'I need to fan myself' hot?"
I bury my face in my hands. "Can we please drop this?"
"Not a chance." Her voice changes, getting serious. "Tess. Look at me."
I peek through my fingers.
"Is this really about him being a good teacher?" she asks gently. "Or is there something else going on?"
Everything. There's everything going on.
But I can't tell her. Can't tell anyone.
"He's just... different from what I expected," I say carefully. "Smart. Interesting. Makes literature feel alive."
"And easy on the eyes?" Rowan grins.
I think about storm-gray eyes and the way they looked at me across the classroom today. That flash of recognition before his professional mask slammed down.
"He's fine," I mutter. "Totally normal. I don't even really notice him."
Rowan bursts out laughing. "Girl, you are a TERRIBLE liar. You totally have a crush on your professor."
"I do not!"
"You do! It's written all over your face!" She's practically cackling now. "This is amazing. Boring, loyal Tesslyn has a crush on her hot teacher. Wait until I tell—"
"Don't!" I lunge forward, grabbing her arm. "Don't tell anyone. Please."
She stops laughing, seeing my panic. "Whoa. Okay. I won't. But Tess... you know nothing can happen there, right? He's your professor. That's like, super against the rules."
"I know."
"And you have a boyfriend."
"I know that too."
"So you're just going to... what? Pine from afar? Write in your diary about Professor Hottie?"
If she only knew. If she only knew I already crossed every line. Already slept with him. Already know what his mouth tastes like and how he says my name and—
"I'm going to focus on my studies," I say firmly. "That's why I'm here. Not for guys. Not for drama. Just school."
Rowan looks skeptical but lets it drop. "Fine. But for the record? Totally normal to have a teacher crush. Half the campus probably feels the same way."
That thought makes something ugly twist in my chest. Jealousy. Other girls looking at Thayer the way I do. Other girls wanting him.
But they didn't have him. I did.
And now I have to pretend I didn't.
After Rowan leaves, I open my laptop. Stare at the email I sent Professor Murdoch earlier.
He replied an hour ago: Tomorrow. 4 PM. My office.
Four simple words. Professional. Distant.
So why does reading them make my heart race?
I shouldn't go. Should cancel. Make an excuse.
But I need to talk to him. Need to know what that threatening text means. Need to figure out how we're going to survive this semester without destroying each other's lives.
I type out a reply: I'll be there.
Send it before I can overthink.
My phone immediately buzzes. But it's not from Professor Murdoch's email.
It's a text. Unknown number.
Saw you with him today. In his office. Alone. Does your boyfriend know?
Ice floods my veins.
Someone was watching. Someone saw us.
Another text: Does the university know their professor is sleeping with students?
My hands shake so badly I almost drop the phone.
Another text: Be careful, Tesslyn. Secrets have a way of coming out. And when they do, everyone gets hurt.
I stare at the messages, heart pounding so hard I can hear it.
Who is this? How do they know?
Dr. Frost saw us. But would she text me anonymously? She seemed more like the type to confront directly.
Who else could know?
My mind races through possibilities. Another student? A professor? Someone who saw us at the bar two weeks ago?
The phone buzzes again. I almost scream.
But this time it's from Callum: Movie tonight? Miss you.
I look between the two message threads.
My boyfriend, oblivious and trusting.
My anonymous blackmailer, threatening to expose everything.
And tomorrow at 4 PM, I have to sit alone in an office with the man at the center of it all.
The man I can't stop thinking about.
The man who could destroy my entire future.
I text Callum back: Can't tonight. Too much homework. Rain check?
He sends back a disappointed emoji but doesn't push.
Then I look at the unknown number. Type out a message with shaking fingers.
Who is this? What do you want?
The response is immediate: I want the truth. And I'm going to get it. One way or another.
Then: See you around campus, Tesslyn. I'll be watching.
I drop the phone like it's on fire.
Someone knows. Someone's watching.
And they're not going to stop until everything explodes.
I need to warn Thayer. Need to tell him before our office hours tomorrow.
But how? Email is tracked. Phone calls can be recorded.
Unless...
I grab my jacket. It's 9 PM. Probably too late. Definitely inappropriate.
But I have to try.
I have to find him. Now. Before whoever's threatening us makes their next move.
Because I have a horrible feeling that tomorrow at 4 PM, when I walk into his office for "academic discussion," someone's going to be watching.
And this time, we won't be able to hide.