The Unwanted Pact With My Enemy

olarship," Professor Cromwell said, his voice cutt

den sculpting table, her knuckles turning white. The syll

his wooden pointer against the chalkboard. "And to break you out of your comfortable li

roan echoed th

canvas apron. She hated athletes. They were

a cardboard box onto his d

ne. When it was her turn, she reached into the dark box. Her trembling fin

slip. Her eyes locked

Forr

ng. The air in the room

sper's shoulder and let out a loud, dramatic

he studio snapp

. "He's the hardest guy on campus to deal with. Go

and settled in her cheeks. She crumpled the paper

signaling the

ives into her heavily scratched canvas bag, yanked the z

t her face, but it didn

versity directory. Her fingers shook slightly as she typed h

ut a rigid, overly polite text message explain

hit

red almost instantly b

ind. Five minutes passed. Then

f ignoring her instantly triggered a memory

pushing through the crowd. Slade Forrester, laughing with hi

Vesper's vintage brass-cornered suitca

pen, spilling her grandfather's custom, hand-forge

t a careless "My bad," and disappeared into the crowd while Vesper fell to her

hair across her face, pulli

e tasted copper. Polite texts weren

's basketball team was currently holding an

g. She turned on her heel and marched towa

m doors and pulled. The heavy scent of floor wa