Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Twenty-Five

FINLEY

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 29TH, 2023

N ot only is it the last day of the trip, meaning our serene bubble has burst and it’s time to go home, but I also woke up this morning feeling like death. Killer headache, sore throat, and cold sweats kind of death. The flu must have found its way to me despite keeping my distance from Genevieve—who was feeling better now and cleared to get on the plane.

I was not missing my flight home.

I took the extra steps of adding extra blush and concealer to my makeup routine this morning to cover the sickly gray color of my skin while shoving my hair into a messy bun beneath a ballcap to hide my face as much as I could. As long as I made sure to ask the flight attendants for water every so often, I’d be fine.

I will be fine .

No one will know .

“The plague got you, too, huh?” Genevieve appears beside me as we wait in the TSA line at the airport, her arms crossed against her chest as she gives me a once-over.

“No,” I say. “I’m fine.”

She quirks her brow at me. “Good luck. I felt like complete ass all week.”

My lip juts out as I take a deep breath. “Don’t say that.”

My soul almost leaves my body when she reaches up to pat me on the back. I think I even flinch. But to my surprise, it’s not sarcastic, it’s actually friendly… Almost.

“Don’t worry,” she tells me. “You have Luca to take care of you.”

I take it back—definitely sarcastic. Chills roll down my spine on top of the chills that have already taken over my body this morning as I swallow the thick tar in my throat. The airport suddenly goes quiet as the ringing sounds in my ears.

She knows.

She knows.

“What?” I croak.

The most intimidating smile I’ve ever seen dances along her lips. “Like I said, he should’ve shoved a sock into your mouth the other night. Oh , Luca! Luca ?—”

Panic takes over as I quickly turn toward her, elbowing her ribs gently as I shush her with a finger to my lips. “Oh my God, Genevieve. You heard all of that? I…I’m sorry. I didn’t?—”

“I’d have to be deaf not to hear that.”

This can’t be happening.

I drop my face into my palms as a groan slips past my lips. “Please, please , don’t say anything. We knew each other before I found out he was our new professor, I swear. I know this is beyond?—”

She waves her hand in the air to stop me, rolling her eyes. “ Relax . I’m not going to say anything.”

I blink a few times.

“You’re not.” It comes out as a statement rather than a question.

Everything could be mere seconds away from disaster—the dreaded moment we both knew could happen if we continued to pursue each other, and yet, we still did. It didn’t scare me before, before my heart got all involved and intertwined with all its feelings. My stomach churns nauseatingly as my hands shake. Maybe I’ll just die from a heart attack right here and won’t have to deal with the aftermath at all.

“No.” Genevieve shrugs as she looks at her cuticles. “I’ve got my eye on the football coach, so who am I to judge you?”

My mouth pops open at her as I shake my head aimlessly. “Y-you… The football coach? But you’ve been hitting on Luca since the first day of class. I thought?—”

“I flirt with everyone, babe.”

A dreaded laugh escapes me. “Oh.”

Her face twists into a grimace. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I might,” I breathe.

“Well, do it over there.” She points to a nearby trash can. “Don’t you dare vomit on my Steve Maddens.”

For a moment, I’m shocked she’s nothing like I thought she was. At all. In fact, I feel like I can understand her, even. But the bile rises further in my throat at the thought, because that means we’re similar: getting with someone way older than we are who should be off-limits because we could get expelled. Someone could get fired. I have more in common with Genevieve Pierce than I’d ever like to admit, and…

No. I’m going to be sick. Quit.

As she steps forward to be next in line for the TSA checkpoint, she throws a wink over her shoulder at me.

“What was that about?” Luca’s voice sounds next to me, and I jump for the second time today.

“You scared me,” I hiss.

His head lowers, his eyebrows pulled tightly together as his eyes dart across my face. “Are you okay?”

“Do you really want to know?”

I make my way through TSA before he can respond, keeping my head down as much as possible as they scan me and sift through my bags. A sigh of relief builds in my chest as I wait for them to okay me, and it practically bursts from my lips as soon as I’m on the other side. Luca wastes no time hurrying through the line to get to me, and I can see the frustration written all over his face as they make him take off his shoes and check his bag a second time.

I’m stalling, but I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want to give him a reason to end this, and that’s selfish of me, I know . This week was perfect. I want to cling to it for as long as I possibly can, but I also need to be honest with him—he’s been honest with me .

He’s nearly out of breath by the time he gets to me. “Yes, I want to know. What’s going on, Finley?”

“She knows.”

Turning to walk in the direction of our gate, I pull my carry-on luggage behind me. Luca rushes to keep up with me, and I can hear the heavy breaths he takes as he starts to panic too.

“What?” he says lowly, his hand grasping my arm to slow me down. “Who knows? What do they know?”

People are already starting to board the plane as we arrive at our gate, and I see Genevieve at the beginning of the line, scanning her ticket before she disappears through the boarding bridge. As we get into the line, I bite at my lip as I turn to peek up at him from under my hat. His dark eyes are wide as they stare down at me expectantly.

“Genevieve knows about us .”

His head drops as he puts his hand on his hip. “Fuck.”

It’s quiet, probably meant to be under his breath, but I heard it. I try to swallow down the stinging ache in my throat, but it doesn’t help. I can feel heat behind my watery eyes, and I know my body is trying to run a fever.

“Fuck?” I repeat feebly.

“How do you know that she knows?” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

I stare at him, willing him to look up at me, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes on the ground, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his face anxiously. Nodding slowly, I wrap my arms around myself as I twist on my heel to face forward again.

“Finley,” he pleads.

“Because she told me,” I grumble, walking up to the staff member scanning tickets and showing her mine.

As soon as the tiny beep sounds, I march off with my stuff down the boarding bridge, hoping to create as much distance as possible between the two of us. I don’t feel good, and the last thing I want to do is argue with him. Regret fills my veins for even bringing it up to him at all. I should’ve lied and told him I was okay.

“You’re just going to drop a bomb like that without any more detail?”

He catches up to me with ease, and I silently curse the way he can match my fast-paced walking with measly, long strides.

“She said she isn’t going to tell anyone.” I sigh.

“And you just trust her?”

We’re stuck behind people once again as we wait to board the plane, and I roll my lips between my teeth. The only thing my mind can focus on is sitting down and closing my eyes. That’s all I want to do.

I clear my throat, and it feels like fire erupts in my esophagus. “Yes.”

He hums in response, but it sounds skeptical. I drop the handle of my small suitcase as I scowl at him over my shoulder, sniffling faintly and realizing my nose is stuffy. Between him acting like this and the way my body feels, it’s just too much. My hat is making my forehead itch; I swear, I can feel the tag of my sweater rubbing my neck, and holy crap, did someone turn the heat on in here?

“You don’t think she’ll keep her word,” I assume.

“You do?”

“Yes, Luca,” I snap at him, and I twist my head to discreetly cough into the crook of my elbow.

Just when I expect him to keep pushing, he gently puts his hands on my shoulders and makes me face him. If I didn’t feel like I was seconds away from the grave, I would glare up at him, but all I can manage is a weak pout. His thumbs caress underneath my eyes before sweeping my cheekbones, cupping my face as he gives me a sympathetic look.

“You’re not feeling well.”

I shake my head.

The line starts to move, and he pulls his hands from my cheeks. Any ounce of comfort that I had fades away with his touch. Grabbing our things, we finally step foot onto the plane and find our seats. Genevieve sits near the window this time, and I realize she’s sitting there instead of in the middle, where she was assigned.

“I thought Professor Serrano could sit in the middle, and you could have the end,” she explains with a knowing look. “You know, just in case you need to yack.”

How generous .

Gripping the nearest headrest, I steady myself as I wait for Luca to load our stuff into the compartments above us before sliding down into the middle seat. When I finally plop down, I slouch down until my knees hit the back of the seat in front of me. My eyes burn with the fever that looms over me, so I close them and pull my hat down further to obscure my face.

I wish more than anything he had reacted differently, but he’s being realistic. I’m not. He can think rationally, whereas I’m blinded by him . He has so much more to lose than I do… Maybe that means this really is over.

Maybe we’re over .

As if we were ever anything to begin with.

It was all a mirage inside of my head, wasn’t it? I saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear, and ignored the rest. I ignored every red flag, every warning sign that said this was always going to end up this way . It’s a punch to the gut, but how could I be upset by it when I knew deep down that there was no other way it could go?

Stupid. So, so stupid.