Tortured Sinner by Tessa James
Claire - 19
I’m not really sure which is more annoying—Johnny being everywhere or Johnny being nowhere.
When he’s around, he frustrates me. But when he’s not, I can’t seem to take my mind off of him. Especially considering the danger he surrounds himself with. It’s no coincidence he stumbled in one night beaten up and then a few days later I found him in that alley nearly unconscious. He’s gotten tangled up with something bad, and it’s clearly a risk to his safety.
So, when he walks out of the bar Saturday night and I don’t see him the rest of the weekend, naturally, I worry.
My mind runs wild with the endless potential scenarios that could have played out. The one that concerns me the most is him ending up dead in a ditch, never to be seen or heard from again. His John Doe body getting lost in the mess of other unsolved homicides.
It’s not my responsibility to make sure he’s okay, and yet I can’t help feeling like someone needs to be concerned about his well-being. I haven’t noticed anyone else coming in or out of his house, meaning he probably lives alone. There was a bedroom door that was shut but it could have been an office or storage. Other than Johnny chatting with Bram, the kid in our building, or that random guy he met at the bar, he’s been alone.
He’s a loner.
What a sad life that must be for him.
Don’t get me wrong, being alone can be great, I’m learning. It’s freeing. Empowering, really. But with Johnny, it feels forced, like deep down it’s not really what he wants. He does it out of necessity. He pushes everyone away.
Why would he do that?
I walk into class and half-expect to see him sitting in that same seat from last week. Still, my heart drops when it’s empty. I take its companion anyway.
What if something bad really did happen to him? Should I file a missing person’s report? I didn’t exactly go over to his place and knock on the door. He could be inside laying low for all I know. Maybe I’ll check in with Bram and ask if Johnny has been in lately. There has to be some reasonable explanation for his absence.
Professor Brown clears her throat and pulls a stack of papers from her backpack. “Class. Let’s begin.” She glides to the front row and distributes them throughout. “Pass these back,” she tells each of them.
The students do what they’re asked while settling into their chosen seats.
“Group project time. If you read the syllabus, you already know this will account for thirty percent of your grade in this class.” Her heels click against the floor.
A collective gasp floats around the room at the oblivious pupils hearing this for the first time.
"The assignment is simple, really. All of the details are listed on the packet you've been provided. Put in the work, get a passing grade. Slack and you fail. Both parties must participate. This will not be a one-sided effort. And trust me, I’ll be able to tell.” She leans against her desk, and continues, “Part of this whole college experience is to learn how to work together with others. Here is your opportunity.”
The door creaks open and my breath hitches.
It’s him. It’s Johnny. In the flesh. Looking ragged but very freaking alive.
A figurative weight lifts from my shoulders and my body relaxes.
“Mr. Jones, have a seat.” Her voice is laced with irritation.
His green eyes flicker in my direction and then settle on the open seat a few spots away. He slides into it and eases into the chair.
A tinge of disappointment courses through me, and I bite my lip to ground myself.
He’s not dead, don’t ask for anything else, Claire.
The professor keeps explaining things. “I’ve decided to take things into my own hands and assign the partners for this project, basing it on a balanced skill level you two will share. I utilized those assessments you took on day one and matched you appropriately. I tried this last semester and it resulted in the highest success rate I’ve had for a course in all my years.”
The class quiets down and anxious energy fills the room at the realization that the partnerships have already been decided.
“I’ll go ahead and get started. When I call your name, please remain seated. Once I’ve gotten through the list, you may relocate with your partner and begin discussing your strategy. You’re free to leave, but I’ll be staying until the end of the session if anyone has any questions. I have office hours following this period, too.” She glances around the room and latches onto a sheet of paper on her desk. “Okay, then.”
I scan the backs of heads and sides of faces, wondering which of these strangers I'll be paired up with. The bubbly girl with the thick-rimmed glasses catches my eye. She always smiles at me when I walk by. Or the curly-headed boy who looks like he skipped a few years in high school to get here. Either of them would be fine with me.
I don't dare glance to my right, not in his direction. There's about a one in thirty chance we'll be stuck together, and I'm hoping like hell it's anyone but him.
“Brayden, Pamela. Brice and Jude. Ava and Sophia. Chloe, you’re with Aria.”
Every single name sends my pulse skyrocketing.
Professor Brown meets my gaze. “Claire,” she hesitates, “and Johnny.”
My heart thumps loudly, drowning out everything else she says. I must have heard her wrong, right? No way is she pairing me with him. Anyone but him. This has to be some kind of mistake.
The room seems to spin, and I have to plant my hands on the cold hard surface of the desk to bring myself closer to reality.
Bodies are up and moving around, most of them funneling out the door with their partners. A few stragglers post up in various corners and start their work together.
“Johnny,” Brown says.
He stands in front of her at her desk.
“I’m not switching things around. Decision is final. Unless you have some incredible excuse, I won’t make an exception.” She lowers her voice, but I still hear her. “Honestly, you should be thanking me. She’s the brightest one in this room.”
“But—” Johnny tries to interject.
“There are no buts. Not after the crap you’ve pulled. This isn’t going to be another repeat of last semester. You’re setting yourself up for failure if you’re going to just show up whenever you please.” She motions to his healing face. “I get it. You have a life. A complicated one, it seems. But your education is important, and you need to take it seriously. If you’re not going to, I’ll do it for you.”
I gather my belongings and walk over toward them. Each step thick and heavy like something’s wrong with gravity.
“Ah, Miss Cooper. Speak of the devil.” Brown waves me over. “I wanted to talk to you— both of you, actually.”
Why does this sound like things are about to get somehow worse than they already are? Why is there a cloud of impending doom lingering over me at the tone of her voice?
“You did?” I cling my notebook to my chest, my fingers digging into the sides.
“Mmhm.” She looks at each of us. “Johnny’s been struggling a bit the last few months, and if he stands any chance of passing this class on the second time around, he’s going to need all hands on deck. That’s where you come in, Claire. Johnny will be your tutoring assignment for the term.”
My entire body seems to float away from me, and it’s everything I can do to not pass out. She can’t be serious. This has to be a dream—a nightmare.
Johnny opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“I—uh, Professor, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I finally say.
“Yeah, what she said,” Johnny adds.
She snatches a paper off her desk. “I do. It shows here that you two live in the same area. I don’t think there’s a better match, honestly.”
“But, I…” I don’t know what to say.
“Claire.” Her tone becomes more serious. “Need I remind you why you signed up for the program? If you’re not willing to work within the requirements, you’ll have to reconsider your position. And if I’m not mistaken, your alternatives are slim at this point.” She takes a breath. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but unless there are extenuating circumstances that I’m unaware of, this decision is final.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
Another pair of students approach, ready for their turn to talk to the professor.
“Very well, let me know if you have any other questions.” She turns her attention to the other people, leaving me and Johnny on our own.
I walk out of the room, not bothered with whether or not he follows. I need fresh air if I’m going to remain standing upright.
I spot an open picnic table in a grassy area between buildings and head straight to it, perching on the edge of the seat.
“Claire.” Johnny’s voice breaks through my daze.
“What?” I snap at him.
He lowers himself onto the bench. "Can we talk about this?"
I turn toward him, his stupid green eyes pleading with me to figure this out. I hate the effect he has on me, melting away every ounce of anger I want to harbor. Even if he’s the one who often brings it on.
I clear my throat. “Listen, I know you don’t like me, for whatever reason, and that’s fine. But I can’t drop the tutoring program, and you apparently need it. Obviously, we can’t switch partners on the assignment, either. My grades are important to me, and I won’t let you ruin that because you hate me.”
Johnny stares at me intensely. “I don’t hate you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I avoid the shockwave that rattles my core. “Let’s just consider this a business transaction. We can agree to get along enough to get the required work done, right? Can you play pretend for a couple months? Once this class is over, you can go back to never talking to me again. Can you handle that, or am I asking too much?”
“Yeah,” is all he says.
It’s not going to be easy, and I’m not even sure if it’s something I can manage. Johnny is a force that wrecks me every second he’s around. But I can’t allow my plan to be derailed because I can’t figure out how to be near him. He’s only human, and so am I. There’s no reason I can’t trick myself into thinking he’s just a means to an end—a way for me to further my chances of getting that scholarship and getting the hell back home.