No message.
No missed call.
I frown, but then again, Saint isn’t the type who texts good morning.
Still...something feels off.
I shake it away and get ready for class. By the time I walk into Behavioral Psych, the room is already filling with students. Conversations echo through the hallway. The smell of gourmet coffee floats through the air.
Everything feels normal, but it doesn’t. My eyes immediately drift toward the last row, to his seat, and find it empty.
I stop just inside the doorway, running different scenarios through my head. I have never wondered if he would show up because he always manages to be there, waiting in the shadows and appearing when I subconsciously need him to.
Maybe he’s running late, but deep down, I know Saint isn’t late. I don’t know why I know that. I just do.
Rose slides into the chair beside me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
I nod too quickly. She looks toward the back of the room. “Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She caught me looking. Professor Owens walks in carrying his usual stack of papers. The room settles, but my mind can’t concentrate on what the professor is instructing the class to do.
Class begins, and I don’t hear half of it. Every few minutes, I find myself looking toward the door.
Waiting.
Expecting him to walk in wearing the same black hoodie. Hands shoved into his pockets. Expression unreadable.
But he never does.
When class finally ends, students begin filing into the hallway. Rose gets stopped by Melissa. “I’m heading to the library,” she says. “I’ll meet you later?”
“Okay.”
I sling my bag over my shoulder. Before I make it three steps...
“Amy.”
I turn.
Azriel is leaning against the wall outside the classroom. One shoulder resting against the brick. Hands in his pockets. Unlike Saint, Azriel smiles easily. I find myself suddenly comparing them.
The smile reaches his eyes. “You’ve been staring at that empty seat all morning.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I wasn’t.”
He laughs. “You really were.”