I swallow thickly, fighting the urge to run, never look back, and bury myself in a hole deep in the woods beyond campus.
Here I am, chasing after my professor at night when he likely has no desire to see me again. That much, he has made clear.
I saw him Wednesday and earlier today for class. The way he acts – or doesn't act, rather – is like the whole thing never happened. The way he so poignantly ignores my presence indicates that he must have seriously regretted what happened between us.
"Yeah, sorry," I breathe. "Not to be difficult, but you said you'd have our formalism essays back today, and I'm having trouble studying without feedback."
"Perhaps you should take more thorough notes then, Ms. Shaw." His eyes don't lift from his paper.
My jaw sets. "Perhaps you should turn in our g
