Unloved: A Novel (The Undone)

My stomach is churning as I step down to the bottom level of the lecture hall.

My eyes flick from the gossiping semicircle of TAs, who are actually my age, to the line of freshman students waiting to talk to their new professor. Among the first group, I easily spot my curly haired tutor.

Ro looks over at me and I offer her as much of my usual smile as I can manage. She waves back at me before gathering the rest of her items in her green backpack that’s got a ribbon tied to the zipper pull—a ribbon that I played with to occupy my hands while I focused on her words a few hours before.

She steps toward me, away from the other TAs, and a real smile takes over her face. A little of the anxiety in me fades. Mostly because when Ro looks at me, I don’t feel like she’s judging me.

She might be the least judgmental person I’ve ever met.

“Hey,” she says, her hands wrapping around her spiral-bound planner. “How did it go?”

“You tell me,” I say.

She adjusts her backpack a little, turning to the side. “Got it in here, so I’ll let you know soon. But I’m sure you killed it.”

Pretty sure I bombed the thing, but I’ll take whatever misplaced praise I can get.

“Ro,” a voice calls from the top of the lecture hall where, at the main entrance, Tyler Donaldson and his gang of assholes in boat shoes are now standing. “If you want a ride, you need to come. Now.”

The rough command makes me tighten fists at my sides, especially when Ro’s tawny skin heats in embarrassment, turning rosy gold where I can see along her profile.

“Right,” she calls to him. “Just… wait for me by the car. I’ll catch up, promise.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and stalks out into the hallway. I have to ball my hands to keep from flipping him off and yelling something back at him like, “Do your khakis come like that or do you have to shove the stick up your ass yourself?” But I manage to hold it in when Ro breaks the tension with a little laugh and tucks back a curl.

“Sorry about that,” she says a little awkwardly.

My brow furrows. She’s the one apologizing?

I hate the guy. He’s never had a nice thing to say to me, and I can’t imagine how his need to put others down doesn’t leak into his friendships and relationships. In fact, after the party and my chat with Ro before diving into the pool, I know it does, and I hate him a little more for it.

Tyler says I look like a dumb little kid.

Fucking asshole.

I tighten my grip on my backpack, cracking my knuckles a little with the movement.

“I… I should go. But I’ll see you—”

“I have to ask.” I stop her, my hand grabbing her wrist as she’s started to leave. “Why the hell are you dating that asshole?”

Her cheeks turn darker.

“That’s an inappropriate question to ask me. I’m your tutor. And your TA,” she stammers.

There’s a dangerous thrill zinging up my spine, distracting me from the dwindling crowd around our professor and my actual reason for staying after class. Making Ro blush and stammer might be a new favorite pastime of mine—great for me and my desperate need for distraction; terrible for her and my grades.

I grin a little and shrug, carefully raising my hand to scratch the back of my neck and stretch, watching with glee the nervous dart of her eyes to the exposed sliver of my lower stomach.

“Not that inappropriate for a friend to ask, though.” I lean in to where I’m nearly whispering in her ear. “And aren’t we friends?”

“We aren’t— I mean, Freddy—” Ro huffs and grabs my arm, yanking me toward the wall, as far from the students lingering by the lectern as possible.

“C’mon, Ro. Let’s just agree to be friends.”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I shrug, smirking sardonically. “Just think about it. Might make the whole study partner thing a little more bearable for you.”

“Bearable?” she asks, her brow and nose scrunching as she looks up at me.

God, I hate talking about this. I can almost feel my hackles rising, along with my frustration at the way she’s playing this. I push those feelings down and smile as I pull at the end of one of her braids. “Yeah. Somehow you got stuck with me, the dumbest kid in our entire school. Three-year reigning champion. I’m going for the sweep.”

“Freddy.”

The softness in her voice, the sympathetic gentleness of the chide, makes me sick.

“You should go. Get out of here.” I say it all with a smile, lifting my hands to readjust her backpack. “I’ll see you at tutoring—promise. Now go catch your ride.”

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” she stalls, stumbling over the first two steps of the staircase.

I give her a firm look, arms crossed. “Easy, princess. Watch where you’re walking.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she mimics me lightheartedly, but I see the moment she turns from playful to worrying. “Sorry— I’ll—”

“Last two standing,” a smooth, dark voice announces. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, anxiety reignited in my gut. “Need something?”

Carmen Tinley stands between us now, closer to me—close enough that I can smell the triggering scent of her usual perfume. She flicks her gaze between Ro and me a few times before Ro finally steps back down toward her.

“Sorry, Dr. Tinley,” she says with a glittering smile that sends a fresh wave of nausea plowing through me. “We were just chatting. I’m Freddy’s new tutor, actually.”

Carmen’s striking crystal blue eyes grow wider. I feel the heat of her stare across my face, waiting for a reaction I won’t give her.

My muscles tighten, bracing for impact as she sidesteps me and stops one step closer to Ro.

“You’re applying for my cohort in the spring, right? I think Tyler told me you were planning on it.”

“I am,” Ro says before a brighter, closed-mouth grin spreads across her face.

“I know this is Freddy’s second time in my class, so if you can help him pass this time around, it would really impress me. I would love to see him succeed.”

They both turn to look at me, but I focus only on Ro’s features.noveldrama

“Me, too,” Ro says, and it brings a little warmth to my cold, uneasy body.

“Just stay focused.” This time, Carmen’s words are directed at me. “I don’t want you seducing my best girl.”

She laughs, like she isn’t making jokes about my reputation to my tutor—as my professor. Ro wrinkles her brow and I want to hug her for even realizing how inappropriate this entire thing is.

Ask me, Rosalie. Please. I think I could tell you.

“I should go,” my calm, confused tutor says, ending the awkward silence. “Freddy, do you want to walk with me?”

Something squeezes in my chest. I step toward her, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders—before it slams right back down as Carmen wraps a hand around my bicep.

“I need to speak with him for a moment. Do you want her to wait?”

I shake my head, my shoulders melting in defeat. “No, go ahead, Ro. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“If you’re sure…” She trails off. Ro waits until I’ve assured her before she trips her way up the stairs, enough times that she pauses halfway and turns to make sure I’m not watching—which I am—before she finally makes it to the top, leaving me behind.

“Freddy,” Carmen says. “It’s nice to have you back in my class. Do you want to go over the syllabus? Make sure everything is clear?”

So, we’re playing it like this.

I shake my head a little aggressively. “I want out of the class.”

Her eyes narrow a hair, but she nods and steps back, beckoning me lazily to follow her into the connected hallway and through to her office.

Dr. Tinley’s black high heels click on the linoleum and grate on the already loud space inside my own head. I’m trying to focus on the speech I’ve been mentally preparing the entire lecture, but I find my attention lingering on the length of her legs in that dress and wondering why she wore it. Has she worn it before? Did she do it on purpose?

Stop.

Dr. Tinley unlocks her office door and flicks the light switch, a warm lamp illuminating the darkened room.

It looks the same as it did before.

I wait what feels like a lifetime for her to settle into her desk chair, playing almost tauntingly with her short vibrant hair, painted lips pursed as she furrows her brow and looks at me.

God, I hate the way she looks at me. Like I’m a child, some pathetic little kid she’s been charged with watching over.

“You want out of my class?” she asks.

I nod. My throat feels thick. It’s too hot in here.

“I’m divorced now, Freddy.”

“Good for you.”

She pauses, a flash of pain and sympathy stretching across her pale face before she leans forward and speaks more softly, her voice a caressing whisper.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful with your feelings—”

“Stop it,” I snap, jerking back in the chair when I realize I’d been subconsciously leaning toward her. “I’m not a child. Just let me drop the course.”

Carmen huffs and taps her manicured nails across the desk, the clicking sound grating on my ears enough that my shoulders hike up. My knee continues to bounce restlessly, even as I press a hand down on it to try and stop it.

“Unfortunately, Freddy, I’m teaching the only sections this semester,” she says, her voice back to the polished certainty it usually has. “But my TAs will be mostly in charge of the class, considering how low the classification is, so it’ll be fine. And you’ll have Ro here, and tutoring you. You won’t have to see me much—unless you want to…”

“Great.” I jolt to stand, pulling my backpack strap up on my shoulder. If I stay in here a minute longer, I think I’ll spontaneously combust. Or say something impulsive that I’ll desperately regret later.

I need a fucking drink. And a girl, someone else to bury my head in until I feel normal again.

My mouth opens like I’m going to say something—probably some awful, taunting, cruel thing—but I only let out a shaky, shame-filled breath and turn on my heel toward the door.

I have to unlock it to get out, a fact that makes it hard for me to sleep that night.