Alexia's POV
The whole class passed by without me daring to look up at Professor Sinclair. Not even once.
Meanwhile, Lucy had apparently made it her personal mission to nudge me every single time he so much as glanced in my direction—which, according to her, was a lot.
I gritted my teeth as she jabbed her elbow into my ribs again.
"Stop it," I hissed under my breath, keeping my eyes glued to my notebook, even though I hadn't actually written anything down.
She stifled a giggle. "He's looking again," she whispered dramatically.
I clenched my jaw, gripping my pen so hard I was surprised it didn't snap. Of course, he is. Because why wouldn't he be staring at the student whose jealous, overgrown man-child of a fiancé called him an asshole over the phone?
I didn't need to look up to know Professor Sinclair was still irritated. His usual calm and collected demeanor probably masked it well, but I knew he was mentally cursing me out every time his eyes flickered in my direction.
