Chapter Forty

Tuesday;

The crisp morning air nipped at my skin as I stepped out of Octavia's car, clutching the warm cappuccino in my hands. It wasn't my usual iced coffee, but with the chill in the air, it felt like the right choice. I waved as she drove off, her smile fading into the distance as I made my way across campus toward the fountain.

The sky was still soft with the early morning light, and the campus seemed almost serene. Lea wasn't there yet, but I wasn't surprised. Either she was on her way, or more likely, she was still wrapped in blankets, snoozing through her alarm. I took a seat on the bench, my fingers warming around the paper cup as I waited. The sound of water splashing from the fountain was soothing, but as the clock neared seven, I decided to get up. If she wasn't here by now, then yeah—Lea was definitely still in bed.

With a sigh, I headed to Montgomery's office. The hallway was quiet, save for the soft thud of my shoes against the floor. When I reached her door, I knocked gently before slipping inside.

She was sitting at her desk, reading something, and I had to pause for a second. Today, she looked absolutely stunning. Her black suit was tailored perfectly, sharp against the crisp white blouse she wore underneath. Two buttons were undone, revealing just enough skin to draw attention but remain professional. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, stray tendrils falling around her face, giving her an effortlessly captivating look.

For a moment, I just stood there, struck by the sight of her. Then, I cleared my throat, breaking the spell. "Morning, Professor," I said, stepping further into the room.

She looked up, her sharp eyes meeting mine, and for just a second, there was something unreadable in her gaze before she returned to her usual, cool demeanor. "You're early," she noted, her voice smooth and even.

I nodded as I took a seat, setting my cappuccino on her desk. "Yeah, Lea's a no-show," I shrugged, hoping she'd get my casual tone. Montgomery's lips curled into a faint smile, a subtle gesture that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I need you to draft a lesson plan for me," she said, her voice calm but with the underlying authority I'd grown used to.

"Sure thing," I gave her a thumbs up and bent down to grab my laptop from my bag—only to find it wasn't there. My hand swept through the empty space where it should have been, and panic surged through me. Where the hell is it? And then it hit me. I must have left it in Octavia's car.

Without wasting a second, I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Octavia's number. The phone rang four times before she finally answered.

"Hey, what's up?" Her cheerful voice filtered through the line.

"I left my bag in your car," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying not to sound too frantic.

Octavia chuckled softly, like it was no big deal. "No worries, I'll swing back. Meet me in the parking lot."

"Thanks, Octavia," I said, a smile of relief forming on my face. The moment I mentioned her name, Montgomery's head snapped up from her desk, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, but I pretended not to notice the sudden shift in her demeanor.

"I'll be right back," I told her, standing from my chair and heading toward the door. I could feel Montgomery's gaze following me as I walked out.

After retrieving my bag from Octavia, I hurried back to Montgomery's office. I barely had a moment to sit down when she cleared her throat, her tone laced with an edge of frustration.

"You're still with her?" she asked, her voice tight, eyes locked on me.

I glanced up, my expression flat. "Yes," I replied curtly, bending down to unzip my bag, retrieving my laptop. I could feel her gaze boring into me, but I refused to meet it.

"I don't like seeing you with her," she said, her words measured, though the tension behind them was unmistakable. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I could sense her displeasure radiating across the room.

I snapped my head up, irritation flickering in my eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't like the fact that you're still smoking, but here I am, not complaining about it," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended.

Her expression faltered, her steely gaze softening ever so slightly. "I haven't picked up a cigarette since you told me you didn't like it," she said quietly.

I furrowed my brows, caught off guard by her admission. "Wait...," I scoffed, disbelief creeping into my voice. "You quit? After that picnic with your mother?"

Montgomery nodded, and for a moment, my heart skipped a beat. She quit smoking because I don't like it? The thought swirled in my mind, leaving me speechless. But then again, this was Montgomery—was she being sincere, or just toying with me like usual?

"Well, good," I finally managed, nodding my head. "At least now you won't die from lung cancer," I added with a shrug, trying to sound casual. I set my laptop on my side of her desk, ready to start working.

I glanced at her briefly, catching the flicker of something in her eyes. "Just don't expect me to stop seeing Octavia because you don't like it," I said pointedly, my focus returning to my laptop as I booted it up.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her jaw clench, her gaze hardening as she stared at me for a few tense seconds. The air felt thick, her displeasure palpable. Without a word, she slid the book I needed for the lesson plan across the desk, her movements stiff. Then, she turned her attention to her computer, her fingers tapping harshly on the keys, as if trying to regain control of the situation.

I worked through the lesson plan quickly, my fingers gliding over the keyboard with practiced ease. I'd done so many of these by now, it was almost second nature. The room was quiet, except for the soft rustle of Montgomery gathering a few books from her shelves. I glanced up and saw her rifling through them with purpose, her movements quick and searching.

She patted down her pockets, a small frown forming on her face, and I realized she was probably looking for her phone. My eyes drifted to a stack of books on the corner of the desk, and I spotted it—her phone, peeking out from beneath the pile. I reached over and grabbed it, intending to hand it to her.

But just as I did, the screen lit up, and I saw the wallpaper. Tuna, sitting in a field of sunflowers, wearing a little sky-blue tie around his neck like a collar. I blinked, a wave of surprise hitting me.

I quickly schooled my expression, pretending not to notice as I handed it over. "Here," I said, my voice steady.

Montgomery muttered a quick thanks before disappearing out of the office, her focus elsewhere, but I just sat there, slightly stunned. She had two of my favorite things on her wallpaper. And then there was Tuna—looking as cute as ever.

A smile tugged at my lips, though I tried to shake it off. But I couldn't help it—this cold, distant professor had chosen something so... personal. Something that spoke directly to me without saying a word.

Maybe I should give her another chance? As friends, of course. Nothing more. I repeated it in my head, trying to convince myself. But there was no denying it—sometimes, the little things she did made my heart race in ways that caught me off guard. Moments like now, the memory of her quitting smoking just because I didn't like it, or seeing Tuna and those sunflowers on her phone, gave me pause. Almost enough to make up for everything she's put me through. Almost.

I sighed, pushing the thought aside as I refocused on the lesson plan in front of me. My fingers moved across the keyboard, but my mind wandered. I just wanted to get this done quickly, but it was hard to concentrate, especially with Octavia texting me throughout.

Her latest message popped up: 'Want to head to the park after you're done today?' I smiled to myself and replied without hesitation: 'Of course!'

Hanging out with Octavia had become something I actually looked forward to. She was easy to be around, and though we hadn't kissed yet, that didn't bother me. We were taking things slow, and it felt... right. There was no rush, no pressure. Just us, enjoying each other's company, and for now, that was more than enough.

About an hour later, the door creaked open, and though I didn't look up immediately, I recognized the soft, familiar scent of Montgomery's perfume. She was back.

Without a word, she placed a small takeout box beside my laptop and made her way to her chair. I blinked in confusion and reached for the box, flipping it open. Inside was a slice of cheesecake, perfectly golden and tempting.

I glanced up at her, my brows furrowing. "How did you know I love cheesecake?"

She settled into her seat, casual as ever. "I saw you eating it once," she replied with a shrug, opening her own box as though this was just another ordinary moment.

Surprised, I stared at the dessert for a beat before smiling softly. "Thank you."

She waved it off with a dismissive gesture, as if it didn't matter. But to me, it did. It was such a small thing, yet so thoughtful. Her way of showing she noticed me, even when she pretended not to care.

We ate in a comfortable silence, each of us focused on our own work. But my mind wasn't on the lesson plan. It kept drifting back to the cheesecake she'd brought me, an unexpected kindness. These little gestures—these small, thoughtful moments—made it hard to hate her. She didn't have to bring me a slice of cake, but she did. And it was making me rethink everything.

The quiet was too heavy on my mind, so I broke it. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?" I asked, glancing up at her.

Montgomery paused, as if giving it actual thought, before answering, "Black cherry."

That was unexpected. I'd never even tried it before. "What about you?" she asked, taking another bite of her cheesecake.

"Vanilla," I admitted, and I didn't miss the way her lips curled up in disgust.

"You've got to be kidding me," she scoffed, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Out of all the flavors in existence, and you pick the most basic one."

"At least it's not mint chocolate chip," I shrugged, shooting her a smug glance.

She raised her eyebrows, then chuckled. "Touché. You're forgiven for having such a terrible taste in ice cream."

I smirked, unable to let her win. "Well, dogs can eat vanilla ice cream. Pretty sure they can't eat black cherry or whatever weird flavor you like."

Montgomery scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "Even Tuna prefers strawberry ice cream over vanilla. So that says something about your taste."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. We may have been trading insults, but these moments—the banter, the playful jabs—made it harder to ignore the pull I felt towards her, the way she somehow managed to burrow under my skin.

I finished the last bite of my cheesecake and tossed the empty box into the trashcan with a satisfied sigh. Glancing over, I noticed Montgomery was still working her way through hers, taking small, deliberate bites. It was oddly amusing, given how quickly I'd devoured mine.

"How are you eating so slow?" I asked, genuinely confused. Her eyebrow shot up as she fixed me with a look.

"Don't judge me," she scoffed, the faintest hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You practically inhaled the slice I gave you."

I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. "It was good. I make no apologies for how fast I ate it." I chuckled, watching her smirk slightly before she continued her methodical eating.

Shaking my head, I pulled my laptop closer and resumed working on the lesson plan. The room was filled with the soft clicking of my keys, while Montgomery finally finished her cake and tossed the box into the trash.

A few minutes passed in silence before she clasped her hands together, her voice breaking the stillness. "What are you doing later today?"

Without looking up, I replied, "Going out with Octavia."

She didn't say anything right away, just hummed in response. Her fingers shuffled through some papers, and I couldn't help but glance up, half-expecting a snide remark or one of her usual cutting comments about Octavia. But nothing.

No remark? No snotty comeback? What's going on?

I studied her for a second, trying to read her expression, but she seemed completely absorbed in whatever she was organizing. There was something unsettling about the calm, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing beneath the surface.

✿

Wednesday;

Lea and I were sitting by the fountain, the early morning chill clinging to the air. She was sipping on an energy drink, the sharp crackle of the can mixing with the faint hiss of her cigarette. The smoke curled lazily in the cool air, swirling around us. It was just before seven, the campus still waking up, with only a few students milling about.

"Are things okay between you and Montgomery?" Lea asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifted between us. I glanced at her briefly, then turned my eyes forward, watching the rippling water of the fountain.

"It's... in between," I shrugged, my fingers tapping idly on my knee. "I never know which Montgomery I'm going to get. Some days she's decent, even kind, and other days it's like she's ready to kill me over the smallest things."

Lea scoffed, leaning back against the bench as if the weight of her own memories suddenly pressed down on her. She took a long sip from her can, her eyes distant. "You know, my girlfriend was exactly like that," she said with a hint of amusement. She took another drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing bright before fading again.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at her more intently. "What do you mean?"

Lea hesitated for a moment, her lips pursing as if she was debating how much to share. She finally exhaled, meeting my gaze with a wry smile. "She was my Geography teacher in high school. Not as intense as Montgomery, but she had her moments."

My eyes widened slightly. "Wait, what? Your teacher?"

Lea nodded, her expression softening as she recalled the past. "Yeah. She could be sweet one moment, and the next, she'd be ice cold. Kept me on edge all the time. I guess... I kind of see why you're drawn to Montgomery. It's that unpredictability. Makes things interesting, right?"

I bit my lip, processing what she said, my thoughts drifting back to Montgomery. She was right—Montgomery's unpredictability was part of what kept me coming back, despite everything.

I glanced at the time on my phone and sighed, the weight of the morning starting to sink in. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I stood up from the bench, brushing off invisible dust. "Catch you later, Lea," I said, giving her a quick nod. She waved me off lazily, cigarette dangling between her fingers as she stared off into the distance.

With a deep breath, I made my way to Montgomery's office, my footsteps echoing softly in the quiet halls. When I reached her door, I knocked gently before stepping inside and closing it behind me. The scent of old books and faint perfume greeted me as I entered, the familiar atmosphere both comforting and suffocating.

Montgomery was by the bookshelf, her fingers lightly tracing the spines of various volumes as she searched for something. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard me, her lips curling into a small, polite smile. "Morning, Valentina," she greeted, her voice warm but distant.

I gave her a half-hearted wave as I slumped into the chair, my eyes heavy with the weight of too many thoughts.

She furrowed her brows, her gaze sharpening as she turned to face me fully. "What's the matter?" she asked, her tone softening as she walked toward me, her eyes searching mine for an answer.

"Nothing," I shrugged, brushing it off, though the tightness in my chest said otherwise. I looked away, trying to avoid her piercing gaze.

Montgomery rolled her eyes and leaned against the edge of her desk, crossing her arms in front of her, the fabric of her suit rustling softly. "Sweetheart," she sighed, her voice taking on a tone that made it clear she wasn't buying my act. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes locked on mine. "I can see something's bothering you."

Should I tell her what's been eating at me? The tight knot in my chest that hasn't loosened since yesterday? How Octavia never showed up at the park, how she vanished from my life without a single explanation? And the worst part—how she blocked me on all socials. What did I do wrong? Did I say something to push her away?

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my fingers twisting in my lap as I considered whether to confide in Montgomery. Her gaze was still fixed on me, patient but sharp, waiting for me to speak.

"It's just..." I hesitated, feeling the words catch in my throat. Would she even care? Finally, I sighed, letting it all out. "Octavia blocked me. She didn't show up at the park yesterday, and... I don't know what I did wrong."

Montgomery's expression remained unreadable for a moment, but then, as if the words had triggered something, a small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. It was quick, but I caught it. My heart sank a little.

"That's quite... unfortunate," she said, her tone laced with something that didn't match her words.

I looked at her, confusion flickering in my eyes as my brows furrowed. There was something unsettling about the way she was staring at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, my voice quiet but wary, suspicion creeping in.

Her smirk widened, more deliberate this time, and she shrugged with an air of nonchalance that set my nerves on edge. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.

A cold realization began to dawn on me. My mind scrambled for answers, and a possibility I didn't want to consider started forming. "Did you scare her away?" I asked slowly, each word trembling with the hope that she'd deny it, that this feeling in the pit of my stomach was just paranoia.

The silence between us stretched on, thick and suffocating. Montgomery didn't flinch, didn't even blink—just stared at me with that infuriatingly calm expression, as if this entire situation was beneath her. My chest tightened with every second that passed, each one feeling like a confirmation of my worst fears.

"You scared her away, didn't you?" My voice cracked, rising in volume as the lump in my throat swelled. The tears I had been desperately trying to keep at bay started to blur my vision. I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor, the sound sharp and jarring.

Montgomery sighed, her shoulders slumping just a little as she finally spoke, "Valentina, she would've left anyway—"

"I don't want to hear it!" I shouted, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. The tears were falling freely now, hot and heavy down my cheeks. "She was good to me!" My voice shook as I choked out the words, the pain twisting in my chest. "She never made me feel less of a person!"

"Val—" she tried again, her voice softening, but I wasn't going to let her finish.

"Shut up!" I cut her off, my voice raw, my hands trembling with anger and hurt. She took a step forward, her expression shifting from that infuriating pride to something almost like regret. She reached out, her hand moving toward me, fingers outstretched in an attempt to console—or maybe to control.

But before she could touch me, I slapped her hand away with all the force I could muster. The sharp crack of the impact echoed through the room, louder than anything I'd said. Her eyes widened in surprise, the mask of calm she wore finally breaking. For the first time, I saw real emotion in her gaze—shock, maybe even guilt—but it didn't matter.

I stumbled back a step, my breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts as my body trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief. My heart raced, pounding in my ears, and all I could see was her, standing there with that indifferent look as if nothing mattered. As if I didn't matter.

"I can't believe you'd stoop this low!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the office. "Are you that jealous?"

"Sweetheart—" she started, her voice calm, almost too calm for the storm raging inside me.

"No!" I snapped, cutting her off before she could finish. My voice cracked under the strain. "You don't get to call me that!" I grabbed my bag, the weight of it heavy on my shoulder as I slung it on. "Fuck you, Montgomery. I've tried so hard to be nice, to ignore all your cruelty, your manipulative games, but this—" I gestured wildly, my hand shaking. "This is unforgivable."

She stood frozen, gripping the edge of her desk so tightly her knuckles had turned bone-white, her jaw clenched. But she didn't say anything. She didn't deny it. She didn't even fight back.

I sneered, the rage bubbling up again. "Go fuck yourself." The words came out bitter, more venomous than I expected, but I didn't care. It felt good to hurt her, even just a little, like she'd hurt me.

I turned to leave, my heart still pounding in my chest, my fingers shaking as I reached for the door handle. But before I walked out, I hesitated. Just for a second, I glanced back over my shoulder. She hadn't moved, her expression unreadable now, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"I quit this stupid fucking job," I said, my voice cold and final. "Go find someone else to fuck with."

Without waiting for her response, I pulled the door open and stepped out, letting it slam shut behind me, sealing the end of whatever this twisted thing between us had been.

Fuck her.