Chapter 79

Addy’s POV

Today felt like it had at least thirty hours. Even my watch was judging me.

Damien only growled twice—but in our drama class, that’s practically a standing ovation. A few classmates leaned forward, daring him to pick a fight with my lunch tray, while others just stared at me with the smug satisfaction of spectators at a wrestling match. Honestly, I half expected someone to place a wager on whether he’d eat me or my tuna sandwich first.

We abandoned the cafeteria chaos and ate at his desk instead. Our legs tangled under the table in that cute “two puzzles fitting together” way. I demolished three sandwiches, two bags of chips, and a suspiciously spicy pickle—Marinated in what, I wondered? Crushed dreams?—while he nibbled politely, like a gentleman. His polite nibbling was the sweetest torment: I wanted his hand on my thigh, but damn, that sandwich was good.

By afternoon, time was moving so slowly I considered texting with a sundial instead of