"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 until you're screaming for forgiveness," I whispered, "until your apologies are like melodies in my ears and 'you won' are the only words your lips know how to form."
His smile brought the temperature in the room down a coup...
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The next morning, bright and early, we had a motherfucking history test that had completely slipped my mind.
And, to put the cherry on top: I sucked at history.
And my sucking at history, I'm talking failing my tests to the point where, yes, I did have to kiss some of my teachers' ass to pass the class.
Luckily, as soon as our tests were passed out, it happened to just be a few essays and they provided us with documents that we had to find claims within and write about. The documents they gave us had practically all the information we needed to complete the essays.
The competition was over in a couple hours. They herded us all back into the auditoriums where we sat next to our groups.
I hadn't talked to Augustus all day, so I opted to sit next to Callum.
"Good morning, sexy." He winked at me. "How was the test?"
I hid my smile. "Not bad, especially with the documents they provided. You?"
"Easy. I take history classes that cover those topics at Princeton."
"Right. Aren't you majoring in law?"
"Yes ma'am."
I nodded, glancing at the stage. Dr. Brown was motioning at someone behind the large red curtain before testing the microphone.
"So... what's going on with you and Augie?" Callum asked.
"What?" I swung my head back at him quickly. "Nothing. What makes you ask?"
His smirk indicated that I had responded too fast to be casual about the topic. I silently cursed myself. "Defensive, are we?"
I crossed my arms and slid down further into the seat. "No."
"That's always how it starts, you know," he continued. "'No, Callum, I swear we don't like each other,'" he mocked. "'No, Callum, he wasn't fingering me behind the statues yesterday. No, Callum, I wasn't sucking his dick in the museum bathroom-'"
"Shut up," I hissed. "Fuck you. It's not like that."
He just chuckled. "Sure, Em. Whatever you say."
"I hate him," I pressed. "He's so... obnoxious. Every time I think I did well on a test, he's there to remind me that he did better. So I do it right back. There's nothing between us – only competition."
"Right. But what happens when you share a room at night, Em? Do you compete for the larger part of the bed?" He raised his brows suggestively. "Or maybe who gets to be on top?"
I shoved him. "You're disgusting."
"Okay, but hypothetically... it would be you, right?"
"Obviously," I said, playing along. "Augustus definitely whimpers and begs in bed."
