The Professor

Chapter Twenty-Eight | Hope

I detangle myself from James's hand and straighten my spine, heart beating at a mile a minute. Jeremy shoots me a tight-lipped smile and shifts his attention to Freddie and Nic.

"I'm really sorry to hear about what's happened," he says. "If there's anything you need..."

"Thanks, Jeremy," replies Nicole, smiling.

Freddie—having no idea who Jeremy is—offers him a seat, to which he declines.

"I was actually just about to do a coffee run. Sloan, I could use your help."

Yep—he knows!

"Okay."

I leave my seat and after taking Freddie and Nicole's order—anything with caffeine in it—I follow Jeremy out into the hall. Mum is tending to a worried Lara who, upon seeing me leave, asks if she can sit with James.

"Of course," I say.

Jeremy shoots her a sympathetic smile and leads me to the coffee bar on the ground floor. We don't say much the entire time and what little conversation we do engage in has nothing to do with inappropriate relationships.

"What the hell happened?" he finally asks once we're seated.

I have no idea what the play is regarding Clarissa, so I simply shrug and say, "The police are still trying to figure that out."

"Is he going to be okay? James?"

I can feel myself tearing up but manage to hold back the urge to full-on sob. "They don't know."

Jeremy lets out a frustrated breath, no doubt feeling the reality of the situation. "This is fucked up. Clarissa was supposed to be our friend."

I nod, unable to offer much in the form of a vocal response.

"I think she regretted it," I eventually say. "Afterwards, she seemed pretty remorseful."

"Yeah? Well, that's no good. You can't un-stab someone."

Despite his seriousness, I find myself cracking a smile.

"What?" he asks.

"You always say it as it is," I explain. "I like that about you, Jeremy."

He returns my smile and takes a sip from his foam cup, creating a natural break in conversation. We're relatively alone, having chosen a table tucked away in a forgotten corner, and I figure now is as good an opening as ever.

"Are you going to tell people?"

He knows without asking exactly what I mean.

"I could," he replies. "But what do I gain from doing that?"

I say nothing and watch as he's hit with a jolt of inspiration.

"Or I could wait until James wakes up and blackmail you both."

I laugh.

"I rather fancy graduating with a first despite having to do any actual work."

"Don't lie. You love the workload."

Jeremy is the only person I know other than me who would rather write an essay that join any social event.

"That's true. I had a wet dream about my dissertation the other day."

"Jesus—Jeremy!"

"Sorry, babe."

I playfully nudge his arm.  "You didn't need to tell me that."

"TMI?"

"Hell yeah!"

"In my defence, you did just say my openness is what you admire most about me."