Haven Read Free Page B

every bit the absentminded professor as he fumbled with a stack of papers. He pulled out a pair of glasses—wire-rimmed, of course—and put them on while he studied a small slip of paper. With a nod to himself, he looked up, his eyes quickly scanning the room before settling on me.
    I swallowed hard, nervously fiddling with my pen.
    “We have a new student,” he said, inclining his head toward me. “You must be Violet McKenna.”
    I cleared my throat, my cheeks suddenly hot. “Yes, sir.”
    “It says here your mother was just appointed assistant secretary-general for Legal Affairs at the UN. Hmm, impressive,” he grunted. He eyed me over the top of the page, his bushy brows raised in what looked like disbelief. “And you’ve moved here from . . . ?”
    “From Atlanta,” I answered, wishing a hole would open in the floor and swallow me up.
    “Well, we’re glad to have you, Miss McKenna. I’m Dr. Penworth,” he said, removing his glasses. “Miss Patterson, will you see that Miss McKenna finds her way to her next class?”
    “Sure,” the girl sitting to my immediate right chirped out, startling me. “Hi,” she whispered, leaning across her desk toward me. “I’m Sophie.”
    I mouthed “hi” back and tried to smile.
    Apparently done humiliating me, Dr. Penworth finally got on with business. “Shall we pick up where we left off? I believe we were discussing the laws of primogeniture, were we not?”
    His voice settled into a lecture-mode steady drone, and I opened my notebook, realizing I had a lot of reading to do to catch up with the class.
    The hour passed quickly. My hand was cramped from taking so many notes, but it kept me focused.
    Suddenly what sounded like church bells ringing startled me so badly that I dropped my pen. Everyone else snapped shut their notebooks and began to stuff their things back into their bags, so I retrieved my pen and did the same. Standing up, I looked entreatingly to my neighbor, ready to follow her around like a lost puppy. But then I sensed
him,
standing just behind my right shoulder.
    “Mr. Gray,” Dr. Penworth called out, his voice jolly. “You’ve a firm grasp of the class material. Would you see that our new student gets caught up?”
    Oh, please, no
. I almost groaned aloud. Never had a guy made me feel so flustered, so completely tongue-tied, so . . . so hyperaware and self-conscious as this one did. I didn’t want to be alone with him, afraid I would humiliate myself, afraid—
    “Of course, sir,” he answered, and I felt my stomach drop.He was so close now that I could feel his breath against my neck, and I was sure he saw me shiver in response.
    “Very good.” Dr. Penworth nodded to himself and began the task of returning his sheaf of papers to his briefcase.
    Summoning my courage, I turned around to tell him—
Aidan
—that I really didn’t need any help, but he was gone. I spun toward the door, my eyes quickly scanning the emptying room.
    “Amazing how he does that, isn’t it?” the girl beside me asked.
    Amazing? How about freaky? “I guess you could call it that,” I muttered.
    “It’s Violet, right?”
    “Yep.” I nodded, realizing I had no idea what her name was. It had gone in one ear and out the other.
    “I guess you’re Cece’s new roommate? She’s been moping around since Allison left.”
    “Allison was her old roommate?”
    She nodded.
    I couldn’t stanch my curiosity. “Why’d she leave?”
    She looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening.
    “Last spring, she
told.
Her parents, I mean. You know, about the school.”
    “Told what?” I asked.
    “Put it this way—they think she’s nuts. Locked her up somewhere, from what I heard. I mean, c’mon, everyone knows that’s why you don’t tell. Anyway, let me see your schedule or we’ll both be late.”
    Totally confused, I handed her the piece of paper. Her eyes quickly scanned it, and then she grinned. “Feminism in British Lit. Same as me. C’mon, let’s