Chapter 9

Stella

Beautiful. That’s what I called her. I called her beautiful, and all the way home from the Christmas market I cursed myself for it.

But God, the way she looked up at me, almost shy about the scar on her forehead—it just did something to me.

The way her cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold, how the alcohol had loosened her tongue, and her enchanting green eyes that captivated me so completely that I could hardly resist.

Now I’m sitting in my living room—or rather, in my hotel room—with a glass of wine in one hand and the other buried in the soft fur of my German Shepherd, Jasper, staring at the wall and trying to forget the sight of her.

From the moment I met her, I knew this woman would do me no good. She’s irritating and distracting, and she’s putting my reputation at risk.

But I just can’t forget the way she looked at me. Not just tonight, but especially before I ruined it with my temper, before I decided I had to distance myself from her.

The way she looked at me that night when we first met, the way she smiled. I felt as though that smile belonged only to me. As though I were worthy of being looked at like that.

And I’ve messed it up.

Not that it matters, because it’s still not right. Whatever I feel for her, it’s not right for several reasons.

Firstly, she’s young—God knows if she’s even twenty yet. Secondly, she has a boyfriend, even if, from what I heard that night after the club, he seems to be a total asshole. And thirdly, and most importantly, she’s my student now.

She is not just a beautiful woman I met on a random night in London anymore. She is one of my students, and no matter what, I can’t get involved with her.

A sigh escapes my lips, shattering all the hope I’d built up over the last few weeks.

It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. I wanted her to hate me, and now she does.

I can see it in her eyes, every time we speak or even just look at each other.

The change in her expression is subtle, barely noticeable. But I can see it. I can feel it every time my heart aches in my chest, when the beautiful green in her eyes darkens and the gentle curve of her mouth stiffens.

I somehow thought it would make it easier for me to forget her, to get over this stupid schoolgirl crush I have on her.

But it didn’t. It only made it worse.

I hate that she hates me and I hate that I can’t take it back. I can’t reverse time or make it un-happen.

Kathrine told me about the night she took care of Charlie at the hospital and how scared and confused she was. Just thinking about it still breaks my heart.

I keep thinking about what Charlie told me—that she doesn’t really know what happened.

It’s quite possible that she just tripped and fell, but somehow I feel there’s more to it, even though she didn’t really want to tell me.

When I asked her what had happened, I could see in her eyes how much she wanted to talk about what was on her mind, but something was holding her back.

Probably the fact that it was me asking.

If it had been Elizabeth or that other girl, Hannah, she would have talked about it.

Even though I’d love to be the person Charlie talks to, I can’t blame her for not doing it that day—or for never doing it ever.

As I reach for my phone to check the time, I see a message coming in from Kathrine.

Kathrine
Hope you got home safely

Me
I did, how about you?

Kathrine
Already sitting on my couch 🙂

Me
Me too! 🙂

Kathrine
I was kind of scared to ask you about it earlier, but I saw you talking to Charlie…

Me
And?

Kathrine
Nothing…

Me
Spit it out, Kathrine!

Kathrine
She’s cute…

As I read the last message, I try not to roll my eyes. Kathrine can be a real pain in the ass, especially because she says out loud things I’d rather not have out in the open.

Of course Charlie is cute. Not just cute, but absolutely gorgeous.

She’s the embodiment of perfection. Her face, her body, her beautiful green eyes.

Every cell in my body longs for her, and I don’t know how much longer I can stay away from her.

From the moment I first saw her, I was head over heels. It’s stupid, I know, but I just can’t help it.

She’s stunning, and it’s hard enough for me to ignore that as it is. I don’t need her to point out the obvious when I’m already painfully aware of it.

I try to come up with something to say in response. I mean, if I agree, it’s kind of weird, but if I deny it, she’ll know right away what’s going on. I guess it doesn’t matter what I say anymore anyway.

I know I’ve waited too long to reply, so I decide just not to answer at all. But before I can put my phone away, the next message from her arrives.

Kathrine
I knew it…

Me
You know nothing, Kathrine!

Kathrine
So it’s just a coincidence that we will go to the restaurant she works at for your birthday tomorrow?

Me
It is a nice restaurant…

Kathrine
Come on, Stella…

I’m almost embarrassed that I’m being so obvious. But then again, how could I not?

She just drives me insane, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to keep up my cold facade.

My thumb hovers over the screen. I’m too tired to keep arguing with Kathrine, so I quickly send her a goodnight message before opening Instagram.

I never had it before I came to London, but Kathrine convinced me to download it so I could connect with the city and the people. And so she could send me funny cat videos via direct message.

I’m not really a cat person, but she loves them more than anything. I’ve always preferred dogs. I like going for walks and hikes, which you can hardly do with a cat.

I can’t help but wonder if Charlie has an Instagram account. Even though I know I shouldn’t, my thumb clicks the little search button.

Her name is probably not just Charlie Campbell.

Nobody uses their full name as a username. At least that’s what Kathrine told me, whose username is @kathies_anatomy. Very original for someone who works as a doctor in a hospital if you ask me but who am I to judge.

Mine is just @s.anderson because I couldn’t think of anything else. My profile picture shows Jasper on one of our last hikes, basically smiling at the camera with his tongue hanging out.

I love this picture of him, which is why I chose it. That, and because it felt weird to use a photo of myself—but maybe I should change that at some point.

I turn my thoughts back to my phone; the search bar is still open. I decide to just search for her name, hoping not to find her, to keep myself from getting even more caught up in this than I already am.

To my surprise and disappointment, her account pops up immediately; her username simply being @charlie.campbell.

“So much for that, Kathrine,” I murmur as I click on Charlie’s profile.

It’s not private.

Excitement courses through my body and I know I should just acknowledge the existence of her account and move on, but I can’t stop myself.

“What’s the harm?” I whisper, stroking Jaspar’s ear. He sighs deeply, as if he knows what I’m getting myself into.

First, I tap her profile picture. It’s a photo of her, taken from a higher angle. It looks like it was taken in a club or some kind of bar, with people sitting in the background.

She looks to the side, her long brown hair falling gently across her face. She smiles almost shyly, the tip of her nose slightly red.

She looks absolutely beautiful.

I admire the picture for another moment before clicking it away.

Next, my eyes land on her bio. She is currently nineteen years old and a Taurus, meaning her birthday must be somewhere between April and May.

Below is a quote which I immediately recognize.

Was he an animal if music could captivate him so?

It’s from Kafka’s The Metamorphosis and is one of my personal favorites. It’s an unusual quote to choose—too niche to just act like you’ve actually read the book. For some reason, it makes me smile that she seems to like it, too.

I keep scrolling down.

There are a few story highlights that I ignore for now so I can focus entirely on the few pictures she’s posted. Most of them being of her friends, in bars, drinks, and nights out playing Uno.

And then there’s this one picture of her.

Whoever took this photo of her deserves an award for it, truly.

The photographer must have been sitting across from her at a table. It’s a dimly lit room; the only real source of light is the candle between them. She has her head resting on her hand, her elbow on the table. She’s looking straight into the camera, without hiding her face behind a drink or her hair, like in her profile picture. Her head is tilted slightly, a small, unusually confident smile playing on her soft lips. Her green eyes shine in the candlelight.

It is an absolutely beautiful picture.

She is absolutely beautiful.

My teeth dig into my lower lip. I stop stroking Jaspar’s ear as I feel the tingling sensation in my stomach grow more and more intense.

I can’t look away, and as I keep staring at her, I feel the heat from my stomach travel down between my thighs.

“Damn it,” I hiss, slamming my phone down on the couch next to me without realizing I’ve accidentally tapped the screen.

Jaspar, sitting next to me, jumps at my sudden outburst. “I’m sorry, Jaspar. She’s just… God, she’s driving me crazy.”

I let my head fall back against the couch. I feel Jaspar settle back down next to me and rest his head on my leg. “What am I supposed to do?”

When I look over at him, he looks just as confused as I feel.

A sigh escapes my lips as I pick up my phone again. When I turn it back over, the screen is still on, Charlie’s face is still there, and my heart skips a beat when I see the heart icon beneath the picture—which is usually just black and white but is now glowing red.

“No,” I say, sitting up in a panic. “No. No. No.”

I immediately remove my like from her post, hoping that this will delete the notification she probably received as well.

Deep down, I know that won’t.