Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
“Welcome to Television and New Media.” He uncaps a dry-erase marker. “I’m Wyatt Rochester. Don’t call me Professor. You can either call me Rochester or Wyatt. I don’t care. What I do care about is that you arrive on time and you don’t waste my time. Teaching is not my full-time job. It’s a hobby, and I teach one class each semester biennially. You’re the lucky ones the administration approved to be here. Which means you want to learn about the entertainment industry. And there’s no one more qualified than me to teach you. I work for Rochester Industries, and yes, my family owns it. It’s one of the largest entertainment and media conglomerates in the world. Now let’s begin.” He starts writing on the board. “As you all can see we have a celebrity in our class.”
My stomach plummets to the core of the Earth. No. No. Please, no.
“Which is why I think it’s a great time to cover a couple shows that have changed the course of television.” He underlines what he wrote and backs away from the whiteboard.
I have to be pale white. A ghost. I feel floaty like I’ve ascended into a different plane of existence. One meant for unfortunate souls.
I read the two shows on the whiteboard:
Princesses of Philly
We Are Calloway
Professor Rochester closes in on me. “And Luna, rest assured, you won’t be getting special treatment with this one. You’ll be graded fairly among your peers.”
My grades are the furthest thing I’m worried about.
Right now, I’m just hoping I can survive. The drop/add period hasn’t ended, and I told myself I wouldn’t drop this class.
I wouldn’t drop any class.
I would stick it out.
I would prove that I’m a Hale who can accomplish college and not just online. I would show that to my siblings. I would show that to the world.
The words on the whiteboard stare back at me. Taunting.
They practically say: Fuck you for trying, Hale.
29
PAUL DONNELLY
LUNA
My professor already hates me. I think if he were to wish upon a star, it’d be so I’d explode into ash.
In one text, I can feel Luna’s dejection. Like she bottled it up and sent it across electromagnetic waves from her cell to mine. It hits me hard.
I text back:
If he hates you then he’s not looking up at any stars. What’s his name? Gonna find his address, hunt him down, egg his door.
Anyone who makes my girlfriend feel like shit is an enemy to me. Facts.
In this redo for Luna, I hoped college would be easier this time around. I wish I could plow through this shit-pile for her, but I’m not at Penn. I’m stuck in a prep school library.
Stuck.
I linger on the word. I don’t mean for it to sound like I’m held hostage against my will.
I love my job—and I wouldn’t ask to be on anyone else’s detail other than Xander’s. Being on Luna’s (which the Powers That Be will never allow) isn’t a road to success. I don’t want any confusion in my head about what I am to her.
I’m her boyfriend. Doing boyfriend fucking things. Like texting her during some downtime at work.
Also, her therapist might actually be the one to explode like a raging supernova if she heard I was superglued to Luna 24/7.
I wait for Luna’s response, but then catch movement in my peripheral. Slipping my phone in my back pocket, I stay sharp on the shifting bodies. They’re trying to hide behind a towering bookshelf of alphabetized encyclopedias.
Two teenage girls, dressed like every other girl here—in Dalton’s preppy plaid skirts and white blouses. Freshmen, most likely. They look fourteen, and I haven’t paid much attention to any freshmen walking the halls. Xander doesn’t interact with them, and they aren’t in any of his classes.
Their attention is on a six-person oak table in the secluded back-corner. A stained-glass window streams blue and purple light onto the only person seated there.
My elf.
Eighteen and thriving.
He chose a spot in the dusty depths of the second floor of Dalton’s library. In hopes he wouldn’t be spotted during his study period.
I meander into the same row as the girls and pretend to be interested in the Discovery Science Encyclopedia on Earth. The planet on the cover makes me think of Luna—and as much as I’d love for her to occupy all my brain space, it’s not a good thing in this moment.
“Ohmygosh,” one of the girls whispers to her friend. “That’s his bodyguard.”
Spotted.
I pretend I can’t hear them and peruse another book. This one on matter and energy.
“Let’s go, let’s go.” The other girl grabs her friend’s hand, and they dash out of the row like I’m about to arrest them.
Guess they realize loitering and ogling Xander wouldn’t put them on my favorites list. I wouldn’t influence his social life this much, but Xander has requested to be alone. So scaring them off it is.