Nasty Lessons
Chapter 1
Callie
The sound of drilling woke me up.
If you haven’t experienced it, you can’t understand how jarring it is—especially when you stayed up until 3 a.m. studying. It’s like a throbbing toothache, but vibrating on the opposite side of your skull.
Add Melissa’s saccharine voice trying to fuck the handyman, and even suffocating myself with a pillow wasn’t enough to end my misery.
That is, until I heardhisvoice.
Our landlord and neighbour—Alistair Graves.
I lifted the pillow to breathe and chuckled. He was far too much of a miserable bastard to fuck Melissa. Or anyone else, for that matter.
The man was in his thirties but acted like he was pushing sixty. No parties. No noise. Stay on your side of the garden.
I didn’t even like parties or noise, but I hated his rules more.
A sudden sound made me gasp and jerk upright—only to find Dottie sitting on the bed, blinking at me like I’d disturbed him. He lifted a paw and began licking it, unbothered.
He was our communal cat, rescued from the street. We’d unfortunately named him Dottie before discovering he was, in fact, a he. He didn’t seem to mind, as long as we fed him and cleaned up his shit.
More importantly, we weren’t supposed to have pets at all. We’d hidden him well for the past year.
At least Daisy and Belle were responsible. Melissa, on the other hand, had to be handled with care. I honestly didn’t know how she was going to survive working life—or life in general.
There was movement outside before I heard his voice—low, growly, and so, so sexy.
I glanced at Dottie, wondering if he’d judge me for flicking my bean to the grumpy neighbour’s voice. I sighed and tried to go back to sleep.
I didn’t need him to judge me when I was already judging myself.
Melissa’s high-pitched, fake laugh began to fade down the stairs.
What a wonderful start to my day.
?? ?? ??
I couldn’t prove it unless I set up a camera, but Melissa was definitely still stealing my butter.
I’d kept it in my bedroom for a month, tracking every smear I used. This waspure Irish butter—from Irish cows, Irish cream, and the depths of my dwindling student budget. I bought three blocks for £5 from Farmfoods.
I went out of my way to bulk-buy there just to save money.
108 rolls of toilet paper for £20.
Those stayed in my room and were reserved for my ass only.
Student life wasn’t glamorous; it was pitiful if you didn’t have a rich mum or dad.
I stared at Melissa’s well-lubricated slice of toast, then glanced behind me at Daisy, crunching through her muesli. Belle had already left for class—she never ate breakfast.
She always had money for makeup, hairspray, and clothes—but never for food. I was convinced she stole from all three of us; we were just too polite to call her out. We moaned about it from time to time, but we all knew who the thief was.
I carefully lifted my egg and placed it on my buttered toast.
