Break Your Heart (7 page)

I
exited my ordinary differential equations classroom on Tuesday morning, clutching my quiz in my hand and grinning like an idiot. Aced it—as well I should. I’d studied hard last night. I stuck the paper in my bag and went into the student lounge area, coffee in my other hand.

I dropped in a seat near the corner, out of the path of people walking, and eyed clusters of students wandering through the math building. My next class, algebraic number theory, wasn’t for a couple of hours. So I sipped my coffee and rolled my tight shoulders. The tension in my body hadn’t gone away when I’d sent in my class drop request yesterday. If anything, it had gotten bigger.

I wasn’t guaranteed there’d be a suitable class this summer. That was a
huge
gamble. Plus, I hadn’t heard a peep from Nick yet. Yeah, I’d totally given up on trying to think of him as Dr. Muramoto. The kiss had knocked down that wall for me.

I reviewed the test to check out the two problems I’d missed. At first it wasn’t apparent what I’d done wrong, but when I’d found my error, I wrote notes in the margin to help me remember for next time.

“Hey, Megan!” The voice jarred me from my review. Dallas stood there, beaming widely as he peered down at me. His hair was tousled and his cheeks tinged pink, like he’d just come inside. He unwound his scarf. “Missed you in class. You feeling okay? Wanna see my notes on what we discussed?”

I squirmed. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Kelly or anyone else in there that I was dropping. I figured I’d shoot her a text in a bit. She’d sent me one yesterday asking if I was coming to class, but I hadn’t responded. “Um, I’m good, thanks. I’m going to drop the class, actually.”

His brow knitted. “Really? Why?” He took the seat across from me. His eyes flashed with concern. “Are you doing badly in there or something? You seemed on top of everything so far.” The flush on his face grew bolder and he swallowed. “Sorry. I’m being really nosy and overwhelming you with questions.”

He was a sweet guy. I found myself softening a bit toward him. It was obvious he liked me—and that I made him nervous. I had to admit, it was flattering. “It’s not that. It’s just . . . not working out. I think I’m going to try another class in the summer.”

“Miss Porter,” I heard from beside me.

My whole body flushed all over in a flare of heat, and I swallowed hard. I looked up to see Nick’s eyes hard on mine. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Good morning, Dr. Muramoto,” I murmured.

“Do you mind if we talk for a moment in my office?” He sounded so professional and unemotional. I wished I could turn my feelings off like that. My heart was thrashing around in my chest.

I guessed he wanted to talk to me about the drop request. Unfortunately, I’d found out yesterday morning from the registrar that at this point in the semester, we had to get them signed by the prof. School policy—something about classroom quotas and wanting profs to be more involved in student academics. I’d figured that given what had gone down between the two of us, Nick would be all too glad to have me gone. So I’d just slid it into his mailbox.

Nick stepped away, giving me space and time to gather my stuff.

Dallas stood, and with a wink he whispered to me, “Good luck. And I hope you don’t quit. I’d like to see you stick around.” He walked off, holding his bag dangling from his hand.

I steadied myself and followed Nick down the hall to the second-to-last door on the right. His door was plain, with only a piece of paper taped on the window announcing his name. He opened it and ushered me inside, then closed it behind him.

As he moved toward his desk, I looked around. The room was pristine, with books tucked neatly into the large shelves. His desk was tidy, similar to mine—everything had its own pile. It wasn’t impersonal; I could see a photo of an older Asian couple on the edge of the desk, plus a small pile of seashells right in front. Must be his parents in the picture. He looked just like his father. Same eyes, same hairline, same strong jaw. But the softness of his mouth came from his mother.

I sat in the chair opposite his desk and rested my hands in my lap. My pulse thrummed so hard I could hear it rushing in my ears. It was hard keeping my trembling fingers still. I knew I shouldn’t be nervous, but I was. Nervous and afraid. And still crazy embarrassed.

“Megan, look at me,” he said, a quiet heat in his voice.

I lifted my gaze, saw a bunch of emotions in his eyes, most prominently concern. “I know what you want to talk about, and I think this is best. I shouldn’t be in your class anymore.”

He shook his head, frowning. “I want you to rethink this. I know you’re upset—”

“You have no idea how I’m feeling,” I shot out, then bit my lip. I wasn’t going to open myself up to him and let him see how I felt. Not when I was still stinging from his rejection.

I was a rational person, but something about him made me irrational. Impulsive. This wasn’t like me. I was fun, yes, but not unstable. Nick was mixing me all up inside, and my attraction to him was making me react in ways unlike me. I prided myself on being in control, having a good time with guys on my terms.

Nothing about this situation gave me any control.

“I’m sorry. You’re right,” he conceded. He sighed and scrubbed the back of his neck as he leaned back in his chair. “I feel bad about this, Megan. I don’t want you messing up your plans over this.”

“I’ll figure it out,” I managed to say. Why did the sound of my name on his lips make me glow, despite my best efforts? “I’m gonna see what’s available in the summer. That way I can still graduate and go to grad school in the fall.”

He was quiet for a moment. Tension thickened between us. I shifted in my chair.

“There’s no reason why you need to get off track because of . . .” He swallowed and looked down at his desk, then up at me. Regret shone in his eyes. “I don’t want that on my conscience. I know how important this is to you. Look, we’re both adults. We can be totally fine and make it through this semester.”

Seeing the sheer honesty in his eyes made me forget he was nine years older than me. Funny how that didn’t seem to factor in to how I viewed him. Maybe because that just didn’t matter to me. After all, he was right—we were both adults.

Yet I was running away, the way a kid would, not an adult who was confident with her life. Unease worked its way into my chest. I wasn’t a coward normally. I faced adversity head-on. Except now.

Could he be right? Could we put aside Friday’s disaster and push through anyway?

He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desk. “I know you’re uncomfortable. I’m deeply sorry about that. And if you want to leave the class, I’ll sign the paper.” He nodded toward the end of his desk, and there it was. My drop request. “But if you stay, I promise to be professional and do my best to help you succeed.” He swallowed. “You’re one of the most intelligent and promising students I’ve come across in a while. Don’t let this knock you off your goals.”

The sincerity in his eyes ate away at me. “I’m not sure I can get past throwing myself at you,” I admitted, knowing my mortification was thick in my voice. I looked down at my lap, trying to regain my cool. “That was so not like me. I feel terrible. I put
you
in a bad position, and I’m very sorry about that. I can’t tell you enough how sorry.”

“Megan.” My name was a whispered caress that made me look up. The warmth in his eyes startled me, and I couldn’t look away. “That wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the one in the wrong here.”

“But I misread—”

“No, you didn’t.” The admission seemed to tear out of him. He sucked in a deep breath and continued, “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to
keep
kissing you, actually. But I had to stop because I can’t let myself be attracted to you. Not when we both have so much at stake.”

All the air whooshed out of my lungs. I stared at him for a moment in shock. His words echoed in my head.

He was attracted to me too.

He wanted to kiss me.

I was no longer embarrassed. It hadn’t been all in my imagination.

“Stopping that kiss was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” he admitted. There was a molten heat in his eyes that reinforced his words. “But it was the right thing.”

My lips parted, and I found my gaze drawn to his mouth. Remembering how good he tasted. I blinked and shook it off. If I was going to stay in his class, I had to keep these feelings to myself.

I straightened my back. Nodded. As strange as it sounded, knowing I wasn’t alone in this attraction somehow made it easier. I didn’t have to feel awkward. I hadn’t just thrown myself at him—okay, yeah, I kinda had, but it hadn’t been unwelcome.

I could be the adult I professed myself to be. I could shelve this. As my mom and dad told me, when I got out there in the “real world,” I’d be forced to deal with situations that were difficult. Surely this qualified as one of those times.

“Okay. If you’re sure you’re fine with this, I won’t quit,” I said.

His body seemed to relax with my words, and he gave me a grateful smile. It made me realize that as much guilt as I’d been carrying around, he probably had too. Feeling like it was his fault that I wanted to change my plans. That understanding softened my heart some. I appreciated his not taking the easy, convenient path—he could have signed the slip and not had to deal with me anymore.

But he hadn’t.

“So what now?” I asked him.

“Now you find the lecture notes from another student and get caught up. You have an assignment due tomorrow.” Dr. Muramoto was back, but his smile and wink put me at ease.

“I appreciate your giving me another chance,” I told him. I tossed my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my forgotten cup of coffee, probably now long cold.

“I’m glad you’re not going,” he said in a husky tone. “And if you need any help getting caught up, just let me know. We’ll figure something out.” He paused, seemed to want to say something else but shook his head instead. “Anyway. I’d better go too. I have a class in a few minutes.”

I nodded and left his office. The walk back to the lounge was light. Students passed me, but I barely noticed. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d told me. That I was smart and promising.

And that he’d wanted to keep kissing me.

Suddenly I was glad he’d had better willpower than I’d had, given my new understanding of the situation. Was Casey’s advice right—should I just give it the semester and see what happened after that? We’d both be in different spots at that point. He wouldn’t be my prof. The line would be a lot less fuzzy.

It would be so hard sitting in his class, remembering how he tasted, how turned on he’d made me. But I would do it. I had to do it; after all, there was no guarantee I’d find another suitable class in the summer.

Surely I could keep this attraction on the back burner until then. No one else would have to know. I’d never told Kelly that Nick had been at the dance club, nor had I told her about my crush. And I knew Casey would take it to the grave if I asked her to.

This would be our secret, his and mine. And if he was adult enough to put aside his attraction and do the right thing, I could be too. I
would
be.

I dumped my coffee in the garbage and stopped at a vending machine, deciding what I should get to fuel my way through more studying and my next class. Soda? Juice?

My phone buzzed. I took it out of my jeans pocket. It was a text.

I didn’t recognize the number. I stared at it for a minute, wondering how to ask who it was, when it buzzed again.

He was texting me, asking me to hang out. Something I’d wanted for a while. But it didn’t give me the thrill in my heart the way it should. It had to be because his typing was horrendous. I tried to not groan at the blatant, awkward come-on.

Not overly suave was he.

I bought a Diet Coke and took a seat back in the lounge area. Then I typed back,
Waiting for my next class to start soon.
Okay, kind of a lie, but I wasn’t quite ready to see him yet. Not with thoughts of Nick still filling my head.

Three math classes and psychology of stress. ;-P You?
I replied.

God, his typing was awful. Like, really awful. What were we, twelve? Then I felt bad for judging him. He didn’t seem like a dumb guy in person, but here I was, making assumptions. Just because he wasn’t as intelligent as Nick—

Nope. Stop that right there,
I ordered myself. That was a dangerous road to start going down. I wasn’t going to compare Nick to other guys. Frankly, because what was the point? He and I weren’t going to date—at least, not for the foreseeable future. All it would do was frustrate me. And it wasn’t fair to others either.

I refused to sit here and put my life on hold the whole semester. Especially since I had no idea what was going to happen when class was over. If he’d try to approach me or not. I was going to make myself keep on keeping on. Having fun, going out. Studying hard and spending time with friends and family. This . . . crush on Nick shouldn’t change that.

Sure, I’d be happy to help you study sometime. Gotta go—talk to you later!
I typed back. Vague-enough answer. Should buy me some time until we could talk in person and I could get a better feel for him then.

I popped open my Diet Coke, took a swig and cracked open my notebook. Study time.

K
elly groaned and dropped her head on her open book. “Remind me why I’m taking this class again,” she said in a miserable tone.

I gave a soft laugh and leaned toward her, careful to keep my voice low so as not to disturb anyone else in the library. “Hang in there. Midterm is just three weeks away.” I peered down at my book to our current chapter on stream ciphers. “Okay, let’s quiz each other on what we’ve discussed so far before we keep going.”

Nick had warned us that the cryptography midterm was worth a big portion of our grade, so Kelly and I had started meeting Tuesdays and Thursdays to study. This wasn’t a class we wanted to get behind on.

She looked up at me and gave a crooked grin. “You’re so responsible.”

I snorted. “I’m just determined to not flunk out of school my last semester. My parents would never let me live it down.”

She and I spent the next half hour going back and forth, quizzing each other on the topic. We both fumbled a few times, but we worked our way through the problems and scrawled out detailed notes as we did.

Not studying alone was pretty nice. I didn’t do this enough—pair up with other people to work together. Wasn’t sure why, actually. I guessed it was because I tended to compartmentalize everything. I usually studied on my own or with someone else if I had to for a class assignment; I chilled with my casual party friends, who hated math and were quite vocal about it; I visited my family on the weekends for dinner. Everything had its separate space.

But this semester, it seemed like all my spaces were bleeding together, mixing with each other. Kelly and I were study buddies, plus we’d hung out socially again since The Night at the club. Through my network, she was even starting to make a couple of friends on campus.

My parents’ dorm room renovation project on campus was now under way, those students relocated to special off-campus housing, and we’d had lunch a couple of times. I found myself avoiding the area they were working in unless I purposefully intended to see them. I told myself it was so they could focus on work, but I knew it was more than that. I was uncomfortable with the thought of them here. In my world, where they’d never been before.

Not to mention I struggled with how to deal with Nick too. He was my professor, but I had very un-studentlike feelings about him, reinforced more and more with each class. He and I hadn’t been alone since our talk in his office, nor had we emailed. We were just kind of circling each other, not making much eye contact or initiating a lot of interaction.

Part of me was glad. The other part was disappointed. When I was alone in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, I let myself miss what could have been, had circumstances been different.

Oh well. I shoved those thoughts out of my head and made myself focus on the here and now.

“So,” I asked Kelly, “have you seen that one guy from The Mask again? The hottie you danced with?” I hadn’t asked her about him yet because I still felt a little awkward over what had happened that night with Nick. But since that issue seemed resolved, insofar as it could be, I guess, I wanted to know.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t tell ya? Total dud. We went back to his car and kissed some, and then he kept trying to push for sex in the backseat. When I said no, that pretty much cooled that down. I left shortly after and I haven’t heard from him since. I’d given him my number earlier that night, since he’d said he wanted to see me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I gave her a sympathetic smile and shook my head. “That wasn’t cool of him.” What a douche. Gotta love the guy who was only out for tail.

“I mean, I admit—there are times I’ve had sex on a first date. But . . . I dunno. For some reason, I thought he was into me for more than just that. I thought the situation was different.” She shrugged, then looked up at my face with a touch of vulnerability in her eyes.

I hoped she didn’t think I was gonna slut-shame her or anything. Hell, I had no problem with people doing what felt good for them. I sure tried to. Life was too short to walk around with a stick up my ass, worrying what people did in their bedrooms. And I didn’t want them worrying about what I did in mine.

“Well, good for you for sticking to your guns and doing what felt right. And for not letting yourself feel pressured. No one wants to feel used, and if you’re not into it, you shouldn’t do it just to make him happy.”

Her responding smile was heartfelt, even if a little shy. “Thanks. I’m so glad we started talking.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, guys—mind if I join you?” Dallas stood at the end of the table, a nervous smile on his face. “I saw you together and figured you might be studying for cryptography.”

“You figured right,” Kelly said. She shot me a quick glance, one brow raised.

“Um, sure, have a seat.” I waved at the table to invite him to sit with us.

Dallas took the seat beside me. His thigh brushed mine and he paused, then shifted his leg slightly away. I saw a dark red stain crawl along the back of his neck.

Wow, this guy wore his feelings all over his face. There was no mistaking anything he felt or thought. It made me wonder if he’d ever had a real girlfriend, had ever gone on a date. His nervousness put me a little on edge, wondering what was going to happen. Somehow I had a gut feeling he’d ask me out, probably soon.

If he did, should I say yes?

Dallas opened his book and notebook, then grabbed a pen from his backpack. He nibbled on the end as he flipped with his free hand to the page we were on. He was cute, even if painfully shy. There was something endearing about him. No, he didn’t set me on fire or anything, but that was okay.

Probably better that way, actually. I felt less out of control. With him, I knew what to expect. I knew it could be casual and fun and no pressure—well, I hoped anyway. After all, he seemed to like me, but it wasn’t like it was love or anything.

We spent a little more time going back over our notes and quizzing Dallas on the chapter. He was a smart guy, and my respect for him went up a notch.

“So, Dallas, tell us all about you,” Kelly said with a wide grin.

I kicked her under the table. To her credit, she didn’t flinch, though she shot me a sidelong glance, keeping her gaze on Dallas.

“What do you want to know?”

“What do you do for fun? Let’s start with that.”

He slanted a peek at me, so quick I almost missed it. Swallowed. “Well, I like to ride my bike when it’s nice out. I also collect old coins.”

“What kind of motorcycle do you have?” I asked with a polite smile.

“Oh, it’s not that kind of bike. I meant a bicycle.”

Kelly smothered a laugh. My polite smile stretched at the edges, and I gave an inane nod to cover up my real feelings. Oh God, he sounded like my grandpa, who was an avid stamp collector. How dull.

He chuckled. “Yes, I’m aware this sounds totally nerdy. But the coin thing I started doing with my dad before he died, and I just kept it up because it was his passion.”

My heart lurched at that, and I felt guilty for being so judgmental. What was with me lately? Apparently, hanging around the snarky guys I usually dated had rubbed off on me. I was ashamed of myself for being so dismissive.

“That’s sweet,” I offered in a sincere tone. “I’m sure he enjoyed spending that time with you.”

Silence thickened at the table. Dallas cleared his throat, looked at Kelly, then looked at me again.

Kelly stood and glanced at her watch in an obvious move of leaving us alone. “Crap. I gotta run. You two finish up without me. I’ll see you on Monday!” She gave me a quick, knowing look that said
tell me
everything
that happens,
and then she gathered her stuff and took off.

Another minute passed in awkward quiet. Okay, then.

“Well. I guess I should get rolling too,” I told him, and began to put my stuff away.

“Hey, wait. Um.” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy tomorrow night? Do you want to get together?”

I paused. My first reaction was to say no. But with that reaction warred a surge of guilt—my hesitation at accepting was due to it being Dallas asking me, not Nick. Not to mention the guilt I already had for judging him about collecting coins.

I owed him a fair chance. I’d given chances to far less worthwhile guys than him in the past. Who knew—he might turn out to surprise me. And I needed to stop thinking about Nick anyway. Dating other guys was the best way to do so.

“Sure, that sounds fun,” I said lightly.

The smile on his face was so bright it almost made me feel bad I wasn’t more enthusiastic about the date. “Perfect. Dinner? Six-thirty?” He named an Italian restaurant a few blocks from campus.

“Sounds great. I’ll meet you there.”

He leaned toward me. I could see the pulse fluttering at the base of his neck. “Looking forward to it.” His eyes dropped to my lips, and I had a moment of real conflict about what to do if he tried to kiss me. Then he moved back, gathered his stuff and left.

I stared blankly at my book for several minutes, willing myself to feel more excited about tomorrow night. A glance at the calendar portion of my cryptography syllabus made me realize tomorrow was the day before Valentine’s Day. Ugh. I hadn’t had a boyfriend or significant other on that day in a couple of years.

Maybe after the date, I could run to the store and stock up on pampering supplies—chocolate, ice cream, pretty flowers—and just hole up in the apartment for the weekend. I was off work on Saturday. I knew Casey would be busy doing romantic stuff with Daniel. Oh, wait, maybe Kelly would want to hang out. I was really enjoying spending time with her, and it was nice having a single friend too.

I typed in a text to her,
Dallas asked me on a date for tmrw. Will let you know how it goes. Also, you busy Saturday? It’s V-Day. Up for a foxy date with me? ;-)

With a grin, I tucked my phone away, gathered my stuff and headed to my next class.

I headed to Bertheimer Dorms, where my parents’ project was currently under way, slogging through snow as I cut across the courtyard. The snow was damp and mud tinged; I was glad I’d worn sensible boots to school today.

The air picked up and made the bare tree branches rattle and clack. I shivered in my coat. February was just as cold as January. I was so looking forward to spring, and to regular sunshine.

I shoved my hands in my coat pockets and made it to the sidewalk, stomping the snow off my boots. There was a small trailer set up on the side of the dorm, where my parents were running their operations. Contractors moved in and out between the dorm and the trailer, wearing hard hats.

I knocked on the door and heard my mom call, “Come in!”

“Hey!” I said. “Just wanted to drop by and say hi.” Last night I’d lain in bed feeling guilty about avoiding them so much, so I’d decided to come by today and visit a bit. “Where’s Dad?” I looked around the small trailer, which held a large table covered with blueprint drawings, a table bearing coffeepots and snacks, and a few scattered folding chairs.

“He had to run a few errands, but he’ll be back later. How are you? Come in!” Mom tugged a chair up beside the one she’d been sitting in, in front of the blueprints. “Hungry? Want some coffee?”

I took a seat. “Coffee would be amazing, thanks.”

She poured me some into a paper cup, dumped in several sugar packets—did the woman know me or what?—then handed it to me. “Been a busy one,” she declared as she dropped into her seat and sipped her own coffee from a black mug.

“What are you guys doing right now? Isn’t it hard working in the snow?”

“We’re working on some interior issues at the moment. Moisture leaking through walls and so on.”

I nodded. I remembered a few of my resident friends complaining about water dripping on their beds. “I’m glad you guys are fixing it up.”

“Me too. Both for them and for us.” She winked and tucked an errant strand of hair back in her twisted bun. I was relieved to see she looked and sounded much better than she had the last time I’d seen her.

“You seem like you’re feeling okay,” I ventured. “Your back doing good?”

“Definitely,” she said with a relieved sigh as she pressed her hand to her lower spine. “I don’t know how I tweaked it, but I’m not having any pain today. I’ll take it.”

“You’re still going to call your doctor, right?” I pressed.

She gave me that Mom look. “If the pain comes back, I will. I already told you I would.” In other words, don’t nag her.

“I just worry,” I said in a softer tone. “I want you to feel good.” Mom didn’t like to be pushed. She and I had butted heads more than once when I was growing up. We were both pretty stubborn.

This wasn’t something I was going to back down on though. I’d read online about how sometimes old injury pains came back, which could be devastating for those who’d thought that period was over.