51 “Take your girlfriend home.”

"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?