I turn around to yell at him to leave me alone but he’s released my hand and the crowd kind of takes over. He’s gone in a sea of people, like someone took him out or maybe he did really fall or collapse into a dark corner. Weird. That was fast. And instantly the lingering sensation is back. My eyes quickly scan the club before I once again shake it off and make my way through. I send a text to Charlie. “Here, where are you?” And keep making my way to the back where a few tables are scattered along the wall.
A wave of dark hair greets me again, followed by another. Do blondes even exist on this campus anymore or is it just me? Shit. At this point Jude’s basically colonized my nervous system and I resent the hell out of him for it. I’ll never be free of him.
Past me would’ve loved the attention.
The obsession. Watching him watch me, wondering if this is going to be the moment we finally hook up, when we finally confess what we’ve been circling for years. I used to dream of it and then when it was so close, it was snatched away from us.
The way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the room is its own sort of addiction, to have those eyes trained on you is nothing short of euphoric.
Unfortunately, current me now knows he’s clinically unwell. In so many ways, and no that does not make him hotter, not even a little bit, it’s not like the movies. It’s more terrifying than that. People do not just lose their shit in oncoming traffic—on purpose.
“Gotcha!”
I jump so hard I almost elbow someone in the throat. “God, you really are jumpy!” Kingsly cackles, gripping my shoulders tighter. She’s wearing a tight red dress that leaves absolutely no guessing where her boobs are at, if the scrap covering them is even considered legal. It’s like she put band aids on her nipples and called it censorship. The rest of her dress is short and rather than evening things out with flats she added tall platform heels that could double as a weapon if she wasn’t trying to gain that sort of attention, which I’m one hundred percent sure she is. She knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s totally fine with it. Girls like her are a complete mastermind of evil to me. They call you slut while dressing like one and shame you for the choices they make as if you’re single handedly responsible for them when you’re just trying to live your life. The projection is strong in them; it’s a force in her.
“Yeah well…” I shrug. “I don’t really love crowds.” My pulse pounds unevenly while she grins like she personally caused the downfall of every brain cell within her vicinity and is actually proud of it.
“Guess that happens when your campus goes viral, though yeah.” She tilts her head. “Evans’ face is literally everywhere right now. News stations picked it up this evening after that stupid campus wide email went out.”
I swallow hard. She’s fishing, maybe to see if I react to the red paper or react to getting one. “Yeah, crazy right.”
Seduction is the first rule, make him love you, make him beg.
Why did the paper say that?
“Mhm.” Her eyes glitter. “Honestly you should feel thankful nobody would ever associate you with him.”
The words hit exactly how she intends them to, making me feel insecure all over again. I’d always felt plain. Jude was the only guy in my life that made me feel stunning, and look how that turned out. Evans was more in love with himself thananyone else. I was just another girl in a string of girls but it still feels like a knife twisting in my gut, hearing her say the words out loud.
“See?” She pats my cheek. “Massive bonus to being plain.”
Then she steals someone’s beer off a tray and disappears into the crowd before I can respond.
I stare after her silver glitter top as she vanishes into flashing lights and terrible techno Bruno Mars.
Cool.
Love college.
Speaking of bad decisions?—
I thought this was a double date?
So why the hell did Charlie agree we’d meet at a noisy club full of drunk people?
And why did I think it was a good idea to bring the red piece of paper and tuck it into my wallet? What purpose would that even serve other than a reminder that it wasn’t his handwriting? I would know it. That means he’s either paying someone to do this or he’s not behind it. He got a red note too, but it would be easy to send himself one. Is his obsession that deep that he’d plan something this huge? Involving the entire campus? Doubtful, his hate may be great, but I’m not worth that sort of revenge.
I tug my cardigan tighter around myself and glance down at the black athletic dress Charlie bullied me into wearing. It had looked cute in the apartment mirror.
Under club lighting?
I look like I make impulsive decisions and ruin lives recreationally. Yay me!
The oversized gray sweater is the only thing standing between me and looking emotionally available. I weave through the crowd toward the reserved tables and immediately relax when I spot Charlie.
Thank God.
She’s coiled against a guy with curly brown hair, dimples, loose jeans, and a faded band tee that somehow makes him hotter because he doesn’t look like he tried.
