Heaven Sinclair is almost too good to be true, with a pure heart and a smile that shines through. However, beneath her sunny disposition, she still bears the scar of Graham Fletcher's past betrayal.
Forced to work together on a college project, the...
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Like Sebastian would say, I'm a bloody idiot.
Watching Heaven's eyes well up with tears makes me feel like I've broken her heart all over again.
"Okay," she says, her voice cracking, the sound sending a pang of guilt through my chest.
I notice the familiar scent of her lavender perfume as she turns away, probably thinking that our lecturer calling names is better than dealing with me.
"Finally!" Mr. Hawthorne exclaims, catching my attention. "I didn't expect you guys to be this many. Exactly one hundred! I refuse to believe you all like Chemistry."
Everyone chuckles, but Heaven and I remain silent.
"Now, let's get to the projects." Mr. Hawthorne says, handing out papers.
When he gets to Heaven and I, he flashes a bright smile. I try to flash it back as I collect the paper in his outstretched hands.
"Goodluck," he winks, then moves on.
From my periphery, I can see Heaven squinting at the paper, struggling to see because of the distance between us. I don't hesitate to shift my chair closer to hers, careful not to invade her personal space.
"See me after the class," the A4 paper reads in blue ink.
We exchange a glance, but Mr. Hawthorne claps his hands, interrupting the moment. "You all have your projects. How are they?"
The responses range from "Excellent!" to "What the fuck is this?"
"Deep breaths, guys." Mr. Hawthorne rubs his palms together. "There's nothing to worry about. Well, except that these projects are worth fifty percent of your grade."
Panic sets in as my classmates start to verbally express their displeasure.
Mr. Hawthorne frowns. "Look, a pair of you guys has it worse. Their project is worth seventy percent. So, if you're not holding a paper that says 'see me after the class', you should be very happy."
While that relieves my peers, Heaven and I exchange another glance.
As Mr. Hawthorne gives general information, my mind races.
I can't think of any reason why our project is worth twenty percent more than that of my classmates. From the anxious look on Heaven's face, I can tell that she can't either.
Before I know it, the class is dismissed.
While I subconsciously wait for Heaven to finish packing her things, an Asian girl approaches us, grinning.
"Hi!" She says to me, but doesn't wait for my reply. Turning to Heaven, she grabs her hands.
"Mauro is so cute! Also, our project is on chromatography. We're supposed to create a lab procedure manual about it. What's your project?"
