The Ex Games(19)

“I know.” I closed my eyes. “I’m going to tell him after Christmas, I promise.”

“Okay.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t. “Did he respond?”

“Yeah, “ I smiled. “He said, Congrats, can’t wait to hear all about it. Wish me luck this morning. I can’t stand having to do this talk. Love, your Brandon.”

“Well, I guess he fell for it.” Meg shook her head. “Let’s get to campus. I have class in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, me too. Just a boring guest lecture though.” I grinned. “Maybe I can get started on my biology homework.”

“You’re so bad, Katie.” Meg laughed at me and I shrugged.

“If I sit in the back, no one will notice what I’m doing.”

“Good luck with that.” We hugged quickly and then parted ways outside Butler Library.

“See you for study group tomorrow?” She looked at me hopefully and I nodded.

“Of course, I need it or I’m going to fail or my finals next week.” We both laughed, even though my words were true, and I walked to my class absentmindedly. I walked into the classroom and sat in the back row, checking my text messages before turning off my phone and putting it in my bag. I pulled out my biology textbook and started going through the checklist my study group and I had prepared for the final. The teacher started talking and introducing the speaker, but I was so engrossed in one of the charts I was making that I didn’t even look up.

“Ms. Raymond, do you have something more important than today’s class?” The professor called out to me and my face went red as I looked up to apologize.

“No, sorry, Professor Wright.” I offered him a small smile and then froze as I looked to the right of him. In that moment, I felt a million different emotions coursing through my body. I honestly wanted to die or faint, but neither one of them occurred. The smile left my face as I stared at the guest speaker. It was Brandon, and as his eyes met mine, I saw a flash of surprise, wonder and anger in his eyes. He looked at me blankly for a moment and I offered him a small smile. He turned away from me and my heart started beating. I didn’t know what to do or say. I wanted to jump up and grab his arm and pull him out of the classroom to explain. I needed to explain to him that I wasn’t lying, not on purpose. I wanted to tell him that this was all a mistake. But I knew I couldn’t and so I just sat there.

“Class, I want to introduce you to multi-billionaire Brandon Hastings. Mr. Hastings, meet the freshmen business students of Columbia University.” Brandon smiled at the crowd and nodded, but his eyes sought mine. They looked shocked and angry, and I felt deeply ashamed of myself. I wanted to scream at Professor Wright for telling him we were all freshmen. I wasn’t even going to be able to pretend that I was a senior. I felt immediately angry at myself for even thinking of replacing one lie with another. The talk seemed to pass by like a flash of lightning. I was surprised because I had thought it would drag on. But somehow, hearing Brandon’s voice soothed me. He sounded normal, happy even, and I was able to convince myself that everything was going to be okay. But then the class ended and he walked out with the professor without even giving me a second glance. I sat at the back of the room for about five minutes, unsure of what to say and do. I felt frozen to my seat. I was scared to leave the room and face what was to come. I didn’t want to go to my study group and I didn’t want to go home. I felt a tear sliding down my face as I sat there. I wanted my mom. I wanted to go home and hide in my bed and forget everything. I wanted to pretend like none of this had happened. I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen the look of anger and distrust in Brandon’s eyes. I wanted to pretend that my heart didn’t feel like it was cracking.

I stood up slowly and walked to the door with my heart in my mouth. I felt like my world was about to end and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“Hey,” Brandon was standing outside the door as I walked out.

“Hey.” I smiled at him, happy to see him. For a moment I thought that everything was okay. I reached over to kiss him and he pulled away in disgust.

“No.” He shook his head. “We need to talk.”

“I’m sorry, Brandon.” I rushed out. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“How old are you?” He looked at me and studied my face and body as if seeing me for the first time.

“18.” I mumbled.

“What?”

“I’m 18.”

“Not 22?”

“No, I’m not 22.”