Chapter Thirty Eight

Wednesday;

Lea and I sat by the stone fountain, its soft trickling the only sound breaking the stillness between us. We hadn't spoken for what felt like ages, each lost in our own thoughts. The cool breeze tugged gently at the ends of my hair as I watched the shimmering water dance in the basin, trying to gather my courage.

I can't keep avoiding this. I have to talk to her.

With a deep breath, I pushed myself off the bench, the worn leather of my bag creaking as I slung it over my shoulder. Turning toward Lea, I tried to mask my unease. "I'm going back in," I said, my voice steady despite the flutter in my stomach.

Lea looked up at me, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, her eyebrows lifting. "You're brave," she murmured, shaking her head slowly, her blonde hair swaying with the motion. "Good luck."

I managed a small grin, giving her a thumbs up before turning on my heel. The fountain's gentle splashing faded behind me as I walked away. A flicker of nerves crept in, but I straightened my back. I may be scared, but it's time I stopped letting it control me. Time to face Montgomery and put my foot down.

Her office door was shut, but I didn't bother knocking. My hand gripped the cool brass handle as I pushed it open, stepping into the dimly lit room. The heavy scent of old books mixed with faint traces of her perfume hung in the air, and there she was—Professor Montgomery, seated at her desk, red pen in hand, eyes scanning over a stack of quizzes.

"Professor," I said, my voice firm but measured, "we need to talk."

Nothing. She didn't even lift her head, her pen continuing its slow glide across the paper. Was she seriously going to ignore me?

I felt my irritation rise, each second of silence making it worse. Without thinking, I strode over to her desk, the echo of my footsteps loud in the quiet room. "Excuse me?" I snapped, my palm meeting the wood of her desk with a soft thud. "I'm talking to you."

Montgomery exhaled, a long, deliberate sigh, as if I had just interrupted her from the most important task in the world. Finally, she placed the pen down, her fingers lingering on it for a moment before she leaned back in her chair. Her dark eyes met mine, a flicker of amusement dancing in them as her lips curved into the smallest smirk. She looked bored, as if marking papers was somehow more interesting than this conversation.

"We need to talk," I repeated, dropping into the chair in front of her desk, trying to keep my voice steady despite the frustration bubbling up inside me.

Montgomery tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening. "Why talk when we can... do other things?" she drawled, her voice low and teasing, the kind that made me clench my fists in my lap.

Montgomery's smirk widened, and before I could say anything, she leaned in just enough for me to feel her presence looming closer, her gaze zeroing in on my neck. Her eyes darkened slightly, focused on the jagged red scratches that lined my skin—the ones she had left behind earlier.

"Fuck, those look so good on you," she murmured, her voice like a purr, each word slow and deliberate.

Heat surged up my neck, burning my cheeks as the memory flooded back—the cold wall at my back, the way her fingers had wrapped around my throat with possessive force, nails digging deep into my skin, leaving those marks behind. Her breath had been hot on my ear, her grip firm, as if she wanted to own me in that moment. I blinked rapidly, trying to push the memory away before it clouded my thoughts completely.

I needed to stay focused.

Shaking my head to clear the haze, I inhaled deeply, steadying my voice. "Do you get turned on when you hurt me?" I asked, meeting her gaze head-on, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

Montgomery's lips twitched upward, an almost imperceptible smile, before she leaned back leisurely in her chair. She crossed one leg over the other, her posture exuding confidence and control. Her eyes, however, never left the marks on my neck, lingering as if she were admiring her handiwork.

"Do you get turned on when you get hurt... by me?" she asked smoothly, her voice a seductive whisper, her gaze still fixed on my skin.

I shot up from the chair, palms slamming against her desk with a sharp crack that echoed in the small office. My heart raced, the anger bubbling over before I could stop myself. Leaning in, I glared at her, my voice trembling with frustration. "Enough games!" I shouted. "Do you actually like me, or do you just enjoy messing with me?"

Before I could even catch my breath, Montgomery moved with startling speed. She rose from her chair and, in one fluid motion, grabbed my chin, yanking me forward. The sudden force nearly made me topple over the desk, her grip firm and commanding. Her face was inches from mine, her breath warm against my skin.

"Yell at me again," she said, her voice a dangerous murmur, eyes flashing with a dark intensity, "and I might just give you a better reason to scream."

Her fingers dug into my chin, holding me in place, the power in her touch undeniable. I could feel my pulse racing under her grip, my body tense from the raw proximity. For a moment, the tension hung thick between us, her control over the moment palpable.

I forced her hand away, stepping back from the desk, needing distance from her. "I'm so done with you," I scoffed, my voice sharper than I intended as I shook my head. "I'm done with your hot-and-cold attitude, done with your mind games, and just... done with you."

Montgomery didn't flinch. Instead, she chuckled—a dry, dismissive sound that grated against my nerves. She sank back into her chair, crossing her legs with an infuriating calmness, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Please, Ms. Wilson," she said, her tone mocking as she leaned back, completely at ease. "We both know that's not true."

I sank back into the chair, the weight of the conversation pulling me down. With a heavy sigh, I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to calm the frustration simmering beneath the surface. My gaze flicked to Montgomery, who was watching me with that ever-present smirk, as if she already knew what I was about to say.

"That woman, Octavia," I began, my voice softer now, almost weary. "She's good to me. She doesn't play games or mess with my head. She's straightforward, and for once, I don't feel like I'm being torn apart."

Montgomery's eyes narrowed ever so slightly before she rolled them with a dismissive wave, her lips curling in amusement. "She's temporary," she said, her voice dripping with confidence. "You and I? We're inevitable. You'll see."

"Inevitable?" I scoffed, disbelief bubbling up inside me. I motioned between us, my hand cutting through the air. "There's no 'you and I,' Professor. You're nothing but—" I hesitated for a second, but the words came out in a rush, fueled by anger. "You're nothing but a mean woman. Hell, I'm surprised Vargas hasn't broken up with you yet."

For a brief moment, something flashed in Montgomery's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She opened her mouth to respond, but I wasn't finished. I shook my head sharply, cutting her off before she could get a word in.

"No," I snapped, pointing a finger at her. "You shut up. I'm talking here."

The room felt charged with tension, my voice hanging in the air. I half expected her to lash out, to scold me or push back, but she didn't. Instead, she did something worse. She stayed silent, her expression calm as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the desk. Her fingers interlocked beneath her chin, her eyes never leaving mine. That damn smirk remained firmly in place, as if she was enjoying every second of this.

She didn't need to say anything. The silence between us was thick, her steady gaze boring into me, making my pulse quicken with a confusing mix of frustration and something deeper, something I didn't want to acknowledge.

I inhaled slowly, trying to steady myself, before finally breaking the tension. "I think we should end this... friendship, or whatever the hell this was." My voice wavered slightly, but I forced it to stay firm. Standing up, I grabbed my bag, the leather strap cool in my hand. "I'll still be your TA, I'll come in and do every task you give me. But that's it. From now on, we're going to act like we did when I first started—when you hated me, and I hated you."

The words felt final, like a weight being lifted off my chest. Without waiting for her response, I turned on my heel, my movements sharp, determined. My shoes echoed against the floor as I headed for the door, refusing to look back. I could feel her eyes on me, watching, that unshakable presence lingering even as I reached the hallway.

I didn't care. She had pushed me too far, and I was done letting her mess with me. I had to be done.

Unfortunately, I had no choice but to drag myself to my next lecture, so I headed toward Prof. Vargas' class. Halfway there, I spotted her struggling under the weight of multiple books again, her arms stacked with volumes that threatened to topple with every step.

A small chuckle escaped me, and I quickened my pace, jogging over to fall in step beside her. "Do you need any help?" I asked, glancing sideways at her.

Vargas turned her head and gave me a warm, grateful smile. "Yes, please. That would be wonderful."

I reached over and relieved her of a few books, cradling them in my arms. But the moment she caught sight of my neck, her expression shifted. Her eyes widened, and her brows knitted together with concern. "My goodness!" she gasped, nearly dropping the remaining books. "What happened to you?"

Damn it. Panic flickered through me as I realized how bad the marks must look. How was I supposed to explain this? For a split second, my mind raced, grasping for a believable excuse. Then, Lea's suggestion popped into my head.

"I got into a fight," I blurted out, forcing a sheepish smile. "The girl scratched me."

It sounded weak even to my own ears, and Vargas' skeptical expression said as much. But I stuck to the story, praying she'd buy it. I could see her eyes lingering on the marks, her worry palpable, but I hoped that was enough to keep her from asking too many more questions.

Prof. Vargas' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I never pegged you for the fighting type," she said, giving me a curious sideways glance.

I shrugged casually, trying to play it off. "I'm not, usually. But I couldn't just stand there and let her get the best of me."

She chuckled softly as we reached the lecture hall. "Did you win?" she asked, pushing open the door, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

I placed the stack of books down on her desk and turned back to her, offering a half-smile. "I believe so." In reality, the argument with Montgomery didn't feel like much of a victory, but in my eyes, standing up for myself was a win, regardless of how the outcome looked.

"Good," she said, her voice light and teasing, as if she approved of my response. "Thank you for helping me, once again."

"Any time," I replied with a smile, before walking toward my usual seat. As I sat down, I couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Maybe I didn't beat Montgomery in the way that mattered to her, but I finally stood my ground—and for now, that was enough.

Throughout the lecture, I focused intently, scribbling notes and highlighting anything that seemed important. Prof. Vargas' voice became a steady hum in the background, but my mind was racing ahead. The moment she dismissed the class, I packed up my things in record time, eager to leave. I slipped out of the lecture hall, heading straight for the fountain.

I hoped Lea would be waiting there, like she always was, but when I reached the familiar spot, the bench was empty, the sound of trickling water the only company. With a sigh, I turned on my heel and made my way toward Montgomery's office. If Lea wasn't around, I might as well get some work done.

When I arrived, her office door was ajar. I walked in without hesitation and dropped into the chair opposite her desk. Montgomery didn't even glance up, her focus glued to her computer screen. With a swift motion, she slid a stack of quizzes across the desk toward me.

"Mark them," she ordered, her voice clipped, already immersed back in whatever she was working on.

I eyed the pile and rolled my eyes, pulling the quizzes closer. "I already know the drill," I muttered under my breath.

"Watch your attitude," she warned, her tone icy, though her eyes never left her screen.

I sighed softly and began marking the quizzes, the silence in the room pressing down on me like a weight. Every tick of the clock seemed louder than usual. I glanced up at Montgomery, wondering if the quiet bothered her as much as it did me. But, of course, she sat there, completely unfazed, her focus never wavering from her computer screen. Not a trace of discomfort.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the stack of papers. The rhythm of marking was almost meditative, but thoughts swirled in the back of my mind. Why did I feel this small flicker of regret about telling her we should go back to the way things were when I first started?

I had stood up for myself, hadn't I? She needed to be put in her place. I couldn't let her keep messing with my head, confusing me with every mixed signal.

Still... the unease lingered. Maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was the way she had let me walk out without a fight.

Time blurred as I worked, and I was so engrossed in the quizzes that I didn't notice Montgomery get up. The first thing I felt was the weight of her hand on my shoulder, and I jumped slightly in my seat, my heart skipping a beat.

I whipped my head around, startled, to find her standing behind me, her eyes fixed on mine as her hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"You have a lecture with me," she said, her voice low and calm, as if the touch wasn't out of the ordinary.

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out of the office, leaving me sitting there, still trying to shake off the sudden shock of her presence.

I dropped everything I was doing, grabbing my bag in a hurry as I walked out of her office, shutting the door behind me. My footsteps quickened to a jog, trying to catch up with her long strides down the hallway. When I finally fell into step beside her, she abruptly stopped and turned, her eyes flashing with irritation.

"Can you not walk so close?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

I scoffed, unable to hold back. "Can you not be such a bitch?"

Her hand shot up instinctively, as if to grab me, but she stopped herself just in time. Her eyes darted around the hallway, checking if anyone had seen the outburst. Clearing her throat, she composed herself, her expression hardening as she stared straight ahead and resumed walking, pretending as though nothing had happened.

I rolled my eyes and trailed after her, keeping a careful distance now. Well, if I wasn't already on her bad side, I was definitely there now.

✿

Friday;

I found myself sitting in Montgomery's office yet again, finishing up the last of the quizzes. With a small sigh of relief, I stacked them neatly and slid them across the desk to her side.

She barely acknowledged me, her eyes flicking from me to the stack of papers before grabbing them and placing them aside. Without so much as a glance, she handed me another pile, and I sighed softly, the weight of the next round settling in. I pulled the papers closer and got to work, the sound of pen scratching against paper filling the silence.

But my thoughts were far from the quizzes. Ever since that argument on Wednesday, a question had been gnawing at me, refusing to let go. When I asked her if she had feelings for me or if she just liked messing with my head, she never really gave me an answer.

Or maybe she did, in her own twisted way. Yesterday, I messed up something trivial, and she yelled at me like I'd committed some unforgivable crime. I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed clarity, that I needed to ask her again.

I set the pen down, my fingers lingering over the pile of quizzes before I looked up at her. Montgomery sat across from me, her head bent down, scribbling intently on some paper, completely absorbed in her work.

"You know," I exhaled softly, trying to keep my voice steady, "You never really gave me an answer."

Her hand paused briefly, but she didn't look up. "Answer to what?" she snapped, her tone sharp and dismissive. "You ask so many stupid questions, I forget them all."

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to push past her attitude. "Were you just toying with me?" I asked, my voice more vulnerable than I intended.

At last, she lifted her head, her eyes locking with mine. There was an edge in her gaze. "Why does it matter?" she asked, her words cold. "I thought we were over this whole situation."

I felt a pang of frustration rise, but I wasn't going to let her brush me off this time. "Just tell me," I urged, needing something more than her usual evasions.

She sighed heavily, her head nodding slightly as if the admission was no big deal. "Yes, I was."

My heart sank at the confirmation, even though deep down I already knew the answer. I had known all along, but hearing it out loud still stung, like reopening an old wound. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "Thank you for being honest."

Montgomery's eyes narrowed, searching my face for a reaction. "It doesn't bother you?" she asked, her tone sharp, testing me.

I grabbed the pen, twirling it between my fingers, trying to keep my voice steady. "Like I said before, in the hospital restroom—I'm young and stupid. Thinking you'd ever like me was just that... stupid."

A humorless chuckle escaped her lips, sharp and cold. "Yeah, it kinda is." She gave me a quick glance before checking her watch, standing up with her handbag and a few books in hand. "Those quizzes better be done by the time I get back from my lecture," she said, her voice detached as she walked out without another word.

I sighed, the weight of her dismissal pressing down on me as I returned to marking. Her words had cut deep, but at least now I had the truth. The truth stung, but it also gave me something I hadn't had before—closure. And maybe, I could finally start moving on.