Page 35 of Bound By Threads
“If the professor weren’t so hot, I’d never attend class,” she whispers to me, a sly grin tugging at her lips, and I roll my eyes at her.
“Not my type,”I sign back. One of the perks of being mute is never being caught talking in class.
“No, your type is in the Marines… or is it the one who follows you around with that lost look in his eyes,” she huffs a laugh at her joke, earning the attention of our professor at the front.
“Shut up,”I reply, shooting her a glare as I try to hide my smile.
“You shut up,” she hisses, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re practically yelling.”
I stare at her for a moment, then a little longer, as we both try to hold in our laughter.“I’ll tell everyone you have a thing for him if you don’t shut up.”I move my hands rapidly in an attempt to confuse her, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“I know what you’re doing, Lottie, and I won’t fall for it.”
“I have no clue what you mean…”I silently mock gasp, clutching my chest in a faux horror.
The professor suddenly appears in front of us, his grey eyes glinting with amusement as he clears his throat. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too… entertaining,” he says, his voice smooth as silk.
Zara straightens in her seat, her cheeks reddening. “Sorry, professor. We weren’t?—”
He cuts her off with a playful grin, leaning slightly toward both of us. “I know better than to believe that.” His eyes shift to me, his smile widening. “And as for you, I can’t say I’m entirely convinced you weren’t encouraging her. You have that look about you.”
I raise an eyebrow, my cheeks warming, but shake my head all the same.“Never.”I sign as Zara translates for me.
“I’m sure you’ll both behave now,” he says, straightening with a playful wink in Zara’s direction. “Now, back to how the Greenland shark survives in the arctic waters and can live for hundreds of years…”
* * *
“I can’t believehe caught us talking,” Zara whines as we leave our class.
I shake my head,“He caught you talking.”I give her a look, shaking my hands as if to make my point.
“No, you don’t get out of this just because you’re mute. You’re a chatterbox, and you know it.”
“Me? I fear you may have the wrong person.”I laugh, the only sound ever to leave my mouth.
I’ve been working on it with my therapist since Archer last left, wanting to give him the perfect final homecoming gift.
The warmth of the sun presses against my skin as Zara and I walk out of the college's front doors, our laughter echoing around us.
We pause at the top of the steps, a crowd gathered at the bottom, phones in hand, and my heart stutters at the familiar scene from years ago when three boys I can no longer bring myself to think about used to torment me.
The weight in my chest that had been there for years, the one I tried to ignore, was somehow heavier.
“Hey, are you okay?” Zara asks, her voice pulling me from my thoughts.
I nod, trying to force a smile. She doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t push. Zara always knows when I’m lying. She says it’s because of a bond we don’t fully ever understand that helps us, but she also knows when to give me space.
We walk a few more steps in silence until I reach the bottom of the steps, the crowd parting.
I freeze.
There, at the bottom of the stairs, is a figure I recognize instantly.
Archer.
Standing in front of me, looking every bit the man who saved me from drowning, yet there’s something different in his eyes. It’s not just the weariness of being away. There’s a shadow, a darkness that lingers in his gaze that I know all too well.
The same one when I look in the mirror.
