"Right." Roman's voice was clipped, curt and indifferent. "You should go to him. He'll take you home."
He moved farther away from me, as though suddenly repulsed by my presence, and though I was glad for the distance between us, my skin still burned through my shirt with the sensational residues of his touch.
I guess I'd been unable to shove everything behind the door.
Roman handed me my school bag, his eyes refusing to meet mine. I wondered how the bag had come to be in his possession. Last I remembered, I'd dropped it off in my locker.
"Thanks," I muttered, not knowing how to thread around the awkwardness newly surrounding us. Just a few seconds ago, tension had been crackling in the air around us, and I'd wanted to...murder him?
