I'm faring unwell since my last conversation with Harlan just a day before – if I can even call it a conversation. I spent Friday night and Saturday afternoon in bed, cuddled up in my blankets, watching Netflix with my laptop on my chest and my headphones in, icing out my roommate, Rose.
I don't mean to push her away. I don't want to. But I can hardly tell her about what is going on with me. Why I'm such a complete wreck. And as much as I want to unload on Rose, that would mean Harlan's termination.
I've caught feelings for the professor I never should have been sleeping with in the first place, the man who hasn't told me that whatever is going on between us is to remain devoid of feelings because he doesn't have to. He says it with the iciness in his gaze when he looks at me. He says it
