Beyond the Lines

Chapter 7: Kiss Me.

Rebecca's POV (1st Person):

The moment I opened my eyes, I felt it—the ache, that hollow pit in my stomach that had made itself all too comfortable lately. 

Missing Lane had become my new normal, and honestly, I hated it. How could it have only been a week? It felt like years. 

I groaned and pulled the blanket over my head, wishing that it was his arms instead, holding me close, whispering those stupid, cheesy things he always said to make me smile.

Stupid Lane and his stupid... everything. I missed him. So much.

I had my phone in my hand before I even realized I was reaching for it, scrolling through our texts like some love-struck fool. I laughed under my breath as I reread the messages, his dumb jokes, and the random little things he'd say. 

And God, I hated admitting how much I missed his stupid smile. You know, the one he'd give me right before he'd kiss me, like he knew exactly how to make me melt into a puddle.

Ugh. It's official. I'm whipped.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and forced myself to get up. I couldn't stay in bed all day, no matter how tempting it was to just lie there and daydream about Lane showing up, sweeping me off my feet, and—

Focus, Rebecca.

I had classes. 

And you know what? Maybe that would help. I mean, who could think about love and longing when you're drowning in cell notes and a professor who seemed to hate your very existence? 

Yeah, no one.

Grabbing my backpack, I made my way to the lab, trying not to trip over my own feet because, apparently, coordination had left me the moment Lane did. 

I muttered a quick hello to Jenna as I slid into my seat. 

She gave me a knowing smirk, clearly reading the love-sick puppy look plastered on my face.

"Oh, shut up," I mumbled, earning a small laugh from her.

"Still thinking about him, aren't you?" Jenna teased, nudging me with her elbow.

I rolled my eyes, but yeah, she wasn't wrong. "Whatever," I muttered, flipping open my notes to pretend like I was paying attention. I had barely skimmed the first line before my mind wandered off again. 

Lane, with that blonde curly hair that I loved running my fingers through. His lips on my neck, his hands—

Seriously, Rebecca, pull it together.

I snapped back to reality, shaking my head as if I could physically shake Lane from my thoughts. But it wasn't working. 

And of course, when I finally managed to focus... guess who decided to stroll into my head like he owned the place?

Professor Whitlock. Tall, dark, and annoyingly intimidating.

I tried to ignore him as he started his lecture, but nope. There it was—the memory of his hand brushing against my neck. Why was I thinking about that? Why did that stick out in my mind? Maybe it was because I hadn't seen Lane in what felt like forever. Or maybe it was because—

"Taylor."

The sound of my name snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up, blinking rapidly as Whitlock's icy gaze locked on me from across the room. Great. Just great.

"Would you care to explain what exactly you find so amusing?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. Everyone in the room went silent.