CHAPTER 6 Sienna's POV After fleeing the room, I leaned against the door and took deep breaths. Oh my god, oh my god. I can't believe I just did that. My face was burning, and I was sure it was red as well. I straightened up and started moving because Jason could leave the room at any moment, and I did not want to run into him right now. I was mortified. I basically attacked him like an animal in mating season or something. I don't know how I'll ever face him again. I know I'm being dramatic, but I just can't believe I did that. Luckily, my first class isn't too far away, and I make it to the classroom before the teacher arrives. My housemate, Naseera, waves me over after saving me a seat in the front row. We became friends recently—she's the social prefect, and we're sharing a cottage this year. "Thanks," I say. "No problem," she replies. "So, what did our head prefect call you back for?" I fight off a blush as I answer, "Just going over this year's budget reports." "Boring," she sings. "If it wasn't haram, I would jump his bones. That man is so fine," she giggles. Thankfully, the teacher enters then and saves me from the awkward response I was about to give. I have to wipe the sweat off my brow—I was not built for this much tension. My teacher immediately starts the class, so I decide to turn off all other thoughts and focus. ---By Tuesday afternoon, after my third class, my heart rate speeds up, and I fear I'm in danger of having a stroke. I only have one more class today—literature—and I share it with Jason. I haven't seen Jason since Monday morning; I even skipped lunch just to avoid him. I feel awful. I'm making everything more complicated. I know I'm not ready for a relationship with him, yet I put him in that situation. I must have lost my mind when I kissed him. Though I can't deny—it felt good. It's not like it was the first time we've kissed, so maybe nothing has changed? I hope. But it was the first time we've ever done that. I'm not a prude. Okay, maybe I am a bit of a prude, but sex has always been an uncomfortable topic for me. I'm just too awkward and shy to ever involve myself with anyone. And to make matters worse, the one person I do fantasize about—I can't even have. Ruining our friendship for sex wouldn't be worth it. I heave a deep sigh before entering the classroom. I immediately spot Jason in the back row next to the window, and my stomach does a series of aggressive flips. When he turns and looks at me, my breath catches. He smiles, and suddenly, everything feels right in the world again. The seat next to him is empty, but I move to take one at the front instead. He rolls his eyes when he sees the direction I'm going and mouths teacher's pet. I stifle a smile and give him a pointed look before sitting down. The teacher soon enters and begins the class. Literature wasn't a required course for either of us, but we both chose it so we could share a class together. Well, I chose it first, and after Jason saw our schedules and realized we had no classes together, he requested to take up literature—specifically Mr. Lowry's class. So, here we are. My skin feels charged, and I know he's staring at me. I use all my willpower to pay attention to the lesson. By the time class ends, I almost feel relieved. ---"Before you go," Mr. Lowry announces, "I want to let you all know that there will be a group project, which will count for thirty-five percent of your final grade. You can submit or present it anytime before the semester ends." The class collectively groans. "The project will be done in groups of two, and you must choose a book from this semester's syllabus. I want all of you to get creative—it can be a play, a rendition, a debate, anything." More groans. "I've already paired you up," he continues, ignoring us. "You'll find your assigned partner on the bulletin board tomorrow." I hate group projects. ---I'm at the back of the abandoned library. Jason should be here any moment, so I'm not surprised when I see him come in. We're probably the only ones with a key to this place—aside from the school administration—after we stole it back when we were freshmen. I'm working on my advanced calculus assignment when Jason drops his bag next to me. "Hey," I say, fighting off a blush. He definitely notices, if the smirk on his face is any indication. I know we're cool after the small interaction we had during literature class, so I decide to stop avoiding him and confront this head-on. "I'm sorry I jumped you and basically mauled you," I blurt out in one breath. Best to just say it and be done. Silence. Then Jason laughs. A soft chuckle, but still. "Well, I'm not," he says. "I like kissing you—though I think I prefer being mauled by you." The blush on my cheeks probably makes me look like a tomato. "But really," he sighs, cupping my jaw. "It's fine. If you ever want to get off, I'll help you. I know you're not ready for a relationship, but I want everything with you, and I'm willing to wait. We'll go at your pace." The way he looks at me makes me feel both elated and uncomfortable. I don't know what to do with his affection—but I also don't know what to do without it. "Thank you," I whisper, nuzzling my face into his palm. ---Class ended at 3:00, and now it's almost 6:00. It'll be time for dinner soon. I've finished my calculus assignment and am currently studying economics when Jason suddenly gets up. "You're leaving?" I ask, slightly panicked. It's not like we were doing anything—but I like having him around. His presence is soothing. "No, I just have to take a call," he says before stepping out. We're technically not allowed to have phones on campus, but everyone sneaks theirs in. The school provides us with tablets and allows laptops, but phones are strictly forbidden. I wonder who's calling him. It's weird that he left to take it, but I shrug it off. He'd tell me if it was important. I go back to studying. When Jason comes back, he looks frustrated. I don't say anything, but after a moment, I reach across and grab his hand. He glances at me, and I see the tension in his shoulders ease. He doesn't say anything—but he doesn't let go, either. And just like that, we hold hands until it's time for dinner.