“Honestly, I wish a hole would open in the floor so I could disappear.”

Alistair’s eyes become pained. “I had no idea, Chiara. If I had known, I wouldn’t have—”

“Accepted my ride?”

Fucked me all weekend long back in Italy? I don’t say it out loud, but I know we’re both thinking about it.

He swallows hard. “Yes.”

“I never thought I’d see you again. I’m eighteen. Hardly jailbait.”

He sighs. “What’s done is done. We can’t erase the past, so we just have to find a way to move forward without making things worse.”

I wince, feeling the rejection deep in my bones. Worse than sleeping with me in Italy, he means. To protect myself, I cross my arms. “How do you propose we do that? Pretend we don’t know each other?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation.

I know he’s right, but it hurts nonetheless to hear him say it in such a cold manner.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I just dropped out of this class?”

It’s the coward’s way out, but I have to protect my heart at all costs.

Alistair frowns, and his lips become a thin, flat line. “This is the most popular elective at DuBose. I don’t want you to miss out on something because of me.”

Dropping my gaze to the floor, I curse under my breath. He’s right. I was looking forward to this class before I knew he’d be teaching it.

“Listen, you don’t have to worry about my impartiality. I’ll treat you the same way as I treat all my other students. I can separate things,” he continues.

I nod without meeting his eyes. “Okay.”

“Chiara, look at me.”

No, I don’t want to look at you because it’s so damn hard. But I do as he asks, lifting my chin and staring at him in defiance to hide how much this is hurting me.

“What?”

“Are you working with Josh on the assignment?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Alistair seems mad, and I have no idea why. Is he jealous?

Don’t go there, Chiara.

“I just want to make sure you have a partner. I expect my students to be dedicated. This class requires you to spend at least two hours per week reading extra material and doing research. I want you to keep that in mind.”

“I read the description when I signed up for the class. I know what I’m in for, or at least I knew. The teacher’s last name wasn’t Walsh though.”

A muscle in Alistair’s jaw tics. “It was a last-minute change. They probably forgot to update the registration portal.”

My phone pings with an incoming text message. I glance at the screen and see it’s from Robbie.

ROBBIE: Where the hell are you? Are you still alive?

Suddenly, a bubble of laughter goes up my throat. His question seems hilarious considering the new situation I’m in.

“It’s rude to check messages while in the middle of a conversation with someone,” Alistair retorts, and that only makes me laugh harder.

Damn it. I have the giggles.

“I’m sorry. But you have to admit, laughing is better than crying.”

He frowns. “Chiara….”

“Don’t. I’m fine with this. Totally, one-hundred-percent fine.”

“You don’t look fine. As a matter of fact, you look—”

“High as a kite?”

His eyebrows arch. “You’re joking, right?”

I start laughing again. “Not on purpose. Oh God. I can’t stay here and talk about this with you. You’re my teacher!”

His blue eyes become stormy. Alistair is suddenly angry, and shit, if that isn’t a turn-on.

Wait? What? I can’t allow this to happen.

“You got high on your first day of school?” His voice rises.

“It was an accident, okay? I didn’t know the brownie I ate at lunch was the special kind.”

I realize I’m almost shouting, which seems to irritate Alistair more. In the back of my mind, I know I’m making a spectacle out of myself. If he didn’t have regrets about hooking up with a high school student, he does now.

“Chiara, settle down. If school administration finds out you’re stoned, you could be expelled.”

“For real?”

He rubs his face. “You need to go home. Where are you staying?”

“At Brandywine Hall.”

My phone buzzes again with another message from Robbie. He’s coming this way. I can’t let him see me with Alistair. He might be able to guess I had a summer fling with him. I don’t trust myself to keep a straight face right now.

“I can take you.”

I’d be tempted to accept his offer if only to spend a few more minutes alone with him. But his tone implies the task would be a chore for him.