Page 30 of My Turn

“Not really.”

He hummed as he grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and poured us each some coffee. I took one gratefully and returned to the living room. Spiders skittered down my spine just from being in here. Now that I’d gotten rid of the flowers, everything was beginning to hit me at once.

The stalker had been in my apartment. He’d left the vase and god knows what else he did. What were the chances that he watched me sleep? Probably pretty damn high. The thought made me nauseous.

How did he get in? Jayce said it was ridiculous to think the guy could hack into security cameras, but he’d found a way around the lock on my door. I didn’t know how hard that really was, but your run-of-the-mill human wouldn’t know how to do it. I’d been completely at his mercy. I hadn’t even slept much last night and the fact that he’d been in here at a time when I wasn’t wandering around freaked me out more. It was as if he knew where I was, even when I was inside.

“Ah, midterms,” Jayce droned, tapping his finger on the stack. “I always hated them more than finals. Need any help grading?”

“That would be a lifesaver if you mean that.”

“Of course I do. Jayce to the rescue.”

With a laugh, I picked up the stack. Weren’t there two before? An unfinished and a finished one. As I thumbed through them, I was shocked to find that they were all graded.

Um…

Had my stalker graded my tests for me when he broke into my house?

“Let’s get to it,” Jayce suggested, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

“Actually, I forgot that I finished these last night.”

“Oh. In that case, we can go stuff ourselves full of sushi. That new place finally opened up in Percival Square. I’m telling you right now, I’m gonna embarrass you with how much I’ll eat today.”

Chapter 12

Alana

As one of my students, Marcel, read from his PowerPoint slide, I tried to keep my focus on what he was saying. I couldn’t give him a grade if I didn’t hear a word he said. For all I knew, he could be going on about how and why they make cheddar cheese orange.

At least I had my midterms graded. Well, they were graded, even though it wasn’t me. I’d looked over them all and they were done correctly, though.

Thanks, mysterious stalker who probably wants to kill me and eat my thighs.

It was weird that he still hadn’t shown his face- or mask- since Friday. He hadn’t sent any texts or left me more gifts. That was suspicious. Maybe he got picked up by the police for loitering. That would be some satisfying karma. I bet he was sitting in a cell, maskless and vulnerable with his balding head and rat face.

“Thanks, Marcel,” I said when he reached his last slide. “I appreciate how much work you put into your project.”

He smiled awkwardly and shuffled back to his seat. I glanced at the clock and decided there wasn’t enough time for someoneelse to present, so I got to my feet and grabbed a stack of midterms to pass out.

“Most of you did well on this,” I said as I made my way down the rows. “You’ll see that I’ve marked areas where you may need improvement. This is an advanced placement class, so you need to put in extra effort if you want that college credit. Do you want to take something like this again when you get to the university?”

“No,” a few voices chimed in.

“What, you don’t want to learn about ancient Mesopotamia again?”

A few laughs sounded around me. After I’d passed out the last test, I leaned back against my desk. There were some frowns in the room, but I was actually pleasantly surprised by the grades. At the beginning of the school year, I’d been worried about how effective I’d be because of what happened. It had been nine months at the time but some days, it still felt like yesterday.

That was the thing with grief, I guess. It ebbed and flowed so that you could never really be sure how you’d feel from one day to the next. Sometimes, I felt ready to face the rest of my life. Other times, I wanted to stay in bed with my eyes closed so I could pretend that when I opened them, he’d be looking back at me. If I didn’t look, the empty side of the bed didn’t have to be real.

“Alright, you all can get out of here,” I announced. “Go be crazy with your parents until I have to see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Miss Monroe!” a couple voices bellowed. I waved, then took a full breath when the room was empty.

Even though I complained about my job, I did love these kids. They were on the cusp of adulthood. Some of them were actually eighteen already. It didn’t feel like it was that long ago when I was in their place.

I had a class in this room during my sophomore year. Mr. Kauzen had been part of the reason I became so obsessed with history. It was my passion, which might not seem very interesting to most people, but I was a boring bitch who could watch the History Channel or go to a museum and feel like I’d died and gone to heaven.