The Professor

Chapter Sixteen | Control

With Lara and Jasmine away home, I finally sit in front of my laptop and begin aggressively typing. Within the hour, I manage to write over three-thousand words. The world building is captivating, and I already adore the characters I've created. Charlotte—the character based on Lara is already my favourite and I just know she's going to be received so well when this book idea finally makes it to print. I spend the rest of my morning piecing together a detailed outline and by the time afternoon rolls around, I'm shocked to find I'm late for class.

Bolloks!

"Hey, book worm," teases Nicole, applying her makeup at the kitchen table. "You finally decided to resurface, I see."

"I'm fucking late! Your brother is going to rip me a new one."

She laughs.

"I did manage to get a lot of writing done though." My tone increases in pitch the more I talk about it. "I've never felt this excited over a book idea before."

"Who knew Lara was your muse?

Nicole and I stayed up most of last night talking about everything and how important I thought the message was. We discussed potential title ideas and possible plot points. It was nice to chat with someone who isn't a literature nerd like me. It gave me a whole new perspective on things.

"When can I read it?"

"As soon as I'm finished," I promise, grabbing my laptop bag and a bottle of water.

I absolutely want Nicole to read it. As my best friend, I value her opinion greatly. But the first person I want to share it with is surprisingly James. In fact, the more momentum I build with this project, the more I want to run to him and tell him everything. Which is exactly what I need to do. Run to class.

"I'll see you later!" I say, already halfway out the door.

I sprint to class and am a sweaty mess by the time I arrive. I already have my 'sorry I'm late' speech planned, but it's not needed. Everyone is waiting outside the lecture room by the time I get there, and a few police officers are stood guarding the entrance.

"What's happened?" I ask, stomach sinking.

I've yet to see James and the alarming thought of him being hurt comes hurtling to the forefront of my mind.

"Someone has vandalised the lecture room," explains Clarissa, clutching her laptop bag to her chest.

I strain my neck to see what damage has been done but can't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Professor James is in there now. It was targeted at him, apparently."

I long to reach out to him. To comfort him in what is undoubtedly a stressful time. But I can't.

"Who told you that?" I ask, attempting casualness.

"Jeremy."

I quickly scan the crowd for his familiar face and find him near the front.

"Jeremy!"

He turns his head and smiles upon seeing me. "You chose a good day to be late."

I push my way to the front. "What's going on?"

"Someone spray painted 'I know what you did' on the lecture room wall. We're in a real-life horror movie."

Pranavi nudges his arm. "Don't say that. I hate horror movies!"

My vision tunnels as I attempt to grasp the severity of the situation. Some one knows about us. Why else would they go to such lengths? Freddie warned us this would happen, and we didn't listen. We thought we were untouchable in the bubble we've built for ourselves.