GROW UP GINGER

A story about leaving and being followed.

Written by Juliana Resende

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No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN — Office Hours

I waited until the class emptied.

“Anna,” Lucas said, behind me, packing his things. “Hey—”

“See you later,” I said, and was out the door before he could finish.

Ethan’s office was at the end of the corridor. The door was open. He was sitting behind a desk, pretending to read something, and he looked up when I came in with an expression of careful neutrality.

“Close the door,” he said.

I closed it.

I had practiced what I was going to say. None of it came out.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“How did you find me, Ethan?”

He set his pen down. He looked at me with what was, if you didn’t know him, a perfectly reasonable expression. Sad. Apologetic. The expression of a man who had made a small mistake and was about to atone for it.

“I’ve been looking for you. I called more than fifty times. You never answered.”

“I didn’t give you my number.”

“No.” His eyes held mine. “You didn’t.”

What came out was: “Why are you here?”

“I’ve been thinking about you since that night. I thought what we had was—”

“It was one night.”

“Anna.”

“You’re a substitute professor. I’m a student. That’s the only thing we are to each other.”

Something moved in his face. He stood. He came around the desk. I stepped back.

“I prefer we keep this professional, Mr. Barberini.”

“Anna, you can call me Ethan.”

“No. I prefer we keep the formalities.”

"All right." A pause. "Is there anything you want to say to me?"

"No. Why are you here?"

"I thought the night we shared that summer was special. I've been thinking about you since then."

“Why?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. That night—”

"Yeah. That night, it was just The Big Night, nothing more than that."

"No, Anna—"

"Please. I'm a student and you're a teacher. We cannot start doing this."

He reached toward me. He tried to touch my face. I pushed his hand away. I turned to leave. He grabbed my wrist.

"Anna, please. We can make this work."

“I was shocked. The way you go still when you're trying not to make a situation worse.

"Are you out of your mind?" I said, very quietly. "We can't start something where one of us is going to end up hurt. Besides — you're my teacher now."

I pulled my wrist out of his grip. I left.

I didn't look back.

In the corridor, behind the staircase, Lucas was standing.

He was looking at me. Or rather, he was looking past me, at the closed door of Ethan's office. His expression was not curious. He was wary.

He had heard. Or he had seen enough to guess.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

We did not say anything else. He let me walk past him without trying to stop me.

He let me leave.

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