NINE: ROYALLY SCREWED
JANUARY 5
WIL DIAMOND
TUESDAY MORNING, WIL WAS IN the North Hall's kitchen with Phoebe Domingo—who was making them each a cup of coffee to go. Unlike most of their peers who opted for the breakfast buffet in the Dining Hall, the girls preferred a little extra sleep over French toast.
"So I saw Liam at the gym yesterday," Phoebe said while they stood at the counter, sipping their coffees. "Actually, I saw him changing."
Wil pursed her lips eagerly. Liam Heart was one of the most attractive seniors, after all. "Lucky you."
Phoebe rolled her violet eyes. "What I meant was when he was changing, I saw his arm. He has a tattoo—a rope with eight knots. That can't be a coincidence, can it?"
"No Fi, it's definitely no coincidence," Wil replied while she thought. "Did he see yours? Did you ask him about his?"
Fi shook her head and then added a few (dozen) spoons full of sugar to her coffee.
"I couldn't ask him. We don't know what it's about and what if it's something bad?"
"Do you remember the pain?" Wil asked because it was only yesterday morning when they woke up with some of the worst pain imaginable. "Of course it's something bad. In what Realm does that much pain mean something good?"
"But it's Liam," Phoebe urged. "He's never done a bad thing in his life."
"Doesn't mean someone didn't do something bad to him."
"I think we should tell someone. Someone in the Infirmary or Dr. K or your mom. I don't think we should be keeping this a secret."
"Well, one of us was just cleared of a double murder charge so I don't think we should be announcing this from the rooftops either."
Phoebe tugged the hood of her red Academy sweatshirt over her messy waves and then swung her Nike backpack over her shoulder. Wil grabbed her bag as well and together, the girls started walking to the Main Hall for class.
"Okay, so we don't tell anyone," Phoebe agreed while they walked. "But I think we should at least look into it. Do you think there's anything in your mom's office about this? That's where they keep all the restricted stuff, right?"
Wil nodded while they walked through the cold, clutching her hot coffee to warm her fingers. "Call me crazy but I don't think I'll be able to waltz in and check out a restricted book again."
"What about the comet?" Phoebe asked while they walked and Wil made a face. "Cupid's Comet, remember? In a few weeks, the comet will pass and there's going to be a dance. Your mom never misses the dances. She'll be in the ballroom all night. We could sneak in her office then."
Wil thought for a moment before she ultimately agreed, shivering as they walked through the wintery outdoors. Due to yesterday's bright sun,, most of the snow melted and left a slushy mess on the cobblestone. Wil was careful where she stepped but every few feet, the soles of her Tory Burch boots slipped and she nearly fell on her butt.
When the girls reached the Main Hall, they entered it quickly. The artificial heat blasted them with warmth and Wil undid her coat, swiping a finger through the air and making it disappear like she'd never worn it in the first place. The girls reached the staircase and as they started up it, they were joined by two friends—Drew Briggs and Xavier Fallon.
"Well look who finally got out of bed!" Drew joked and threw an arm around either girl while they conquered the staircase. Xavier, Drew's roommate, smiled 'hey' at both the girls and Wil rolled her eyes at Drew.
"Don't you have a freshman to harass or something?" she quipped but wrapped an arm around him in return to assure him she was only teasing.
Drew stuck his tongue out at her. He was stiff when he climbed the stairs, like yesterday's workout was harder than usual, and every few steps he grabbed his left shoulder while grunting through the pain.
"So," he said while they walked. "Have you guys met the new Potions teacher yet?"
Wil made a face.
"Didn't you hear about Mrs. Layweave? She retired after last semester. They brought in a new guy from the Mortal World. His name is Mr. Donovan."
Wil nodded slowly. Before the holidays, all Academy Potions classes were taught by Mrs. Layweave. Mrs. Layweave was a sixty-something-year-old woman and the smartest person Wil had ever met—second only to her godfather, Dr. K. She was kind and funny and lenient with deadlines—something Wil always appreciated. She couldn't help but wonder if her sudden retirement had anything to do with the Incident last year.
Drew escorted Wil the rest of the way upstairs while Phoebe took off with Xavier, pushing through the crowd as they raced each other up. Luckily, yesterday's shock over Wil's return seemed to die down because people walked around her like she wasn't even there. Nonetheless, Drew still kept a protective arm around his best friend, all the way up to the classroom.
When they entered, Wil spotted a man who must have been the new teacher, Mr. Donovan, at the front of the room where he was writing on the board. All she could see was his tall, muscular back and she found herself fantasizing about what his front half looked like. Probably hot. He had the shoulders of a hot guy.
Suddenly, Mr. Donovan dropped his chalk and he bent down to pick it up. As he did, his gray slacks tightened around his butt where Wil's eyes (and those of every other girl, for that matter) glued.
"Easy there, Diamond," Drew whispered from over her shoulder, snaking around to his seat. "You're drooling."
The teacher stood up and that time, he faced his students as they filed into the room. He looked back at the door where Wil was standing and his dark eyes widened.
A lump formed in Wil's throat and it grew more painful each second. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her ears. Her face turned a sickly shade of green and sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She opened her mouth but only one word came out.
"Shit."
Because Mr. Donovan was the stranger from the bar.
MR. DONOVAN TRIED TO STOP Wil and talk to her several times over the next few days but she had become an expert in avoiding him. For twelve days, she showed up to her Potions class at the last possible second and left for Mr. Flannery's Runes and Archaic Symbols class as soon as the period was over. She never lingered around the Main Hall and she spent almost every second of her free time in her dorm (something Phoebe hardly noticed since she spent almost every second of her free time in the Athletic Hall). In fact, as the days passed without incident, Wil was beginning to believe that she could actually make it to graduation without ever speaking to her hookup-turned-teacher.
And then day thirteen came.
On day thirteen, Wil was in the Dining Hall for dinner with Phoebe, Drew, Xavier and the rest of their friends when she saw him. He'd already started walking towards their table and she looked up, panicked. Drew was in the middle of telling the table how Xavier struck out with Kate Diamond and Wil tried to appear engaged, in hopes Damon would be discouraged to talk to her.
"What did you expect would happen?" Wil asked Xavier, laughing for extra effect. "Kate has been in a relationship with Cam since they were both in the womb!"
He scoffed and swatted the air playfully. "The guy hasn't been here for weeks. I thought he was a goner."
"He's back now," Phoebe announced and then stole a chicken nugget off of Drew's plate before popping it in her mouth. "I saw him and Logan with bags earlier today. Kate was there too."
"Well I know that now," Xavier chuckled and then rolled his gray-blue eyes. Then he looked at Wil and raised a perverted eyebrow. "But in all seriousness, Diamond. Your sister is hot."
"Of course she is," Wil beamed with pride as though it were her appearance he'd just complimented. "We're twins."
Just then, Wil felt a soft touch on the small of her back and without turning around, she knew Damon was there. Drew, who sat across from Wil, smiled coolly and then said,
"Hey, Mr. Donovan. What are you doing here?"
"I came to steal Miss Diamond away," Damon replied, saying her name so smoothly that it was almost like he'd never seen her naked. He turned to Wil and then said, "Your father asked me to grab you."
"Uh—um, yeah," she stuttered, shoving her unfinished plate over to Drew and then grabbing her backpack off the floor. "I'll be right there."
She moved quickly when she followed Mr. Donovan out of the Dining Hall, twisting her bracelet around her wrist. Only once they found the privacy of an empty hallway did they speak again.
"Your dad doesn't want to see you. I lied."
"No shit," she cursed under her breath though it was loud enough for him to hear. "My dad is at a conference with the Council until Friday."
Damon's hand found its way back to the small of her back again and then he gestured for her to follow him up the stairs hastily.
"I'm sorry," he apologized though she wasn't entirely sure what for. "But I've been trying to talk to you for two weeks."
"Weird," said Wil, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and plant her lips on his. "I've been avoiding you for two weeks."
"Avoiding me, huh?" asked Damon and he stepped out of the staircase. She looked around. They were in the Faculty's Residence--where most teachers stayed during the school year. Damon led her down the hall to one door and quickly unlocked it. Then, he ushered her inside. Once the door was shut, he let out that heavy sigh he'd been holding in since the Dining Hall.
He started pacing the floor between his desk and his bed and she looked around the room curiously. She'd never been in the Faculty's Residence before, much less inside one of her teachers' dorms. The room was the same size as hers but felt larger without a roommate to share it with. There was a door at the back of the room which led to a private bathroom and she was slightly envious of the spacious accommodations.
"So, let me get this straight," said Damon when he stopped pacing long enough to give her a long, hard look. "Your name is not Grace. You are not an art student. And you're not twenty-three. Was anything you told me that night true?"
Wil smirked and bit her lip seductively.
"Remember when I told you that I really liked when you did that thing with your tongue? That part was true."
Damon cracked a smile—just a small one—and she spotted a tiny scar on his right cheek, shaped like a dimple. His smile quickly straightened when he cleared his throat again.
"You're seventeen," he said because out of all of her offenses, that was probably the worst. "You told me you were twenty-three."
"I tell a lot of people that," she said with her lips pursed. "Particularly when I meet cute guys in bars."
That time, Damon let out an audible chuckle and she relaxed. His eyes lingered on hers a little too long and she found herself thinking some very inappropriate thoughts about him. Things she shouldn't have been thinking about her teacher.
Like about the buttery feel of his lips.
Or the way his hands found every curve in her body like he'd studied them all his life.
"Careful Damon," she said when a new minute began and his eyes had yet to leave hers. "You're staring."
His cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat once more, returning to that stoic state from before.
"You're Princess Wilmarie," he said like it meant something and she bit her lip again. "Do you realize the position that puts me in?"
"No. I've been a little too busy thinking about all the positions that you put me in."
He didn't seem amused so her smile quickly faded.
"Okay," she huffed like she was surrendering. "You're right. I lied. And normally, it wouldn't have been a big deal. A few weeks later, you would've picked up a copy of WoMWeekly and realized who I was but by then, I'd be gone and it wouldn't matter. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. So I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied."
"No. You shouldn't have."
Damon's hands lingered awkwardly at his sides like he was debating whether or not he could grab hers. Something sparkled like gold in his mocha brown eyes and she drove herself crazy wondering what he was thinking about.
"So... I should go then," she said in a breathy voice when the intimacy of the moment set in. She didn't remember moving towards him but when she blinked, her chest was practically pressed against his.
He didn't respond right away. He didn't nod in agreement. He didn't shake his head. He didn't tell her to stay. He didn't tell her to go. Instead, he took another step closer and their chests brushed against each other. When he exhaled, she felt his peppermint breath on her cheek.
"Something like this could cost me my job and you your reputation," he said in a voice that was practically a whisper. He reached for her hand. She let him. His fingers twisted with hers and electricity shot through her arms.
"I know you're new around here but my reputation is sort of shit at the moment."
He tucked one of her curls out of her face and he smiled at her.
"I had it all planned out," he said with a light laugh. "What I was going to say to you, I mean. I was going to hold you after class and I was going to tell you that what happened between us was a mistake and we can't see each other anymore. I was going to tell you that I refused to take advantage of you."
She stepped forward and the toes of her boots bumped against those of his oxfords.
"You never took advantage of me," she assured him a sultry whisper, wrapping her fingers tighter around his. "I knew exactly what I was doing from the moment I met you."
He shook his head like he was finally coming to his senses but out of all the things he'd done, move away from her was not among them.
"This is insane," he said of his inability to push her away. "We can't."
He sounded like he was trying to convince himself and it was in that moment that Wil felt that fire burning within her. She should have walked away. She should have left his room. She should have forgotten everything that happened between them because it never should have happened in the first place. But when she looked at him again, she couldn't do any of those things.
Instead, she knotted her fists in his shirt and narrowed her emerald green eyes on his. Their lips were just shy of touching and a sexy smile tugged on her lips. When she blinked, her lashes brushed against his cheeks and he pressed his forehead against hers in defeat. He exhaled again.
"I'm your teacher."
His voice was breathy, desperate even. She could tell he wanted it just as badly as she did and that fire within her burned brighter. His fingers caressed her back and she inhaled sharply. Then she lowered her voice so it matched his.
"So teach me."
And he did.
He cupped her face with his hands and smashed his lips against hers. He kissed her passionately and she melted into him. Wrapping his large arms around her, Damon's hands roamed her body and she did the same. She had almost forgotten how intoxicating he was and when she was reminded, she never wanted to let go.
The kiss was powerful and he backed her against a wall, pressing his body into hers. His hands slipped under her shirt and clawed at her bra though he didn't undo the clasp just yet. He scooped under her butt and lifted her off the ground. She hooked her legs around him and her heart raced as their kiss intensified.
His touch was electrifying. Every inch of her tingled.
He carried her over to the bed and slowly lowered her onto it. She tugged his shirt up and he pulled it over his head, exposing his chest. She caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his bicep—something patterned, she didn't get a good look. She kissed him harder and he didn't stop her.
It was wrong. She knew that. But for the first time in a long time, she felt alive. Truly alive. She didn't care what she had to do if it meant that feeling wouldn't fade.
His lips were addictive and his body locked around hers. He stirred her in ways she longed for and when he broke the kiss to remove her shirt, his nose brushed against hers and he stopped to catch her breath.
"Damn," he said in that husky voiceof his. "I missed you."