Page 19 of Darkest Obsession

“Hello, Clover,” Roger says. His voice is so deep and British. My friends back home wouldn’t believe that I get to hang out around British accents all the time. Then again, they also might not believe that my closest friends here were actually American. I’m not the only one from the land of the free.

“Good morning.”

“Early class?” The way they pronounce everything is so cool.

“Yeah, Ethics.”

Roger smirks. “I’m taking Ethics next semester. I’ve got English.”

“Cool.”

“Is that what you like then? Ethics and dancing?”

His eyes are incredibly blue. Wow. I never noticed at dance practice and I definitely didn’t notice at the party, but they’re so intense I get a little nervous.

“I like dancing. I don’t know about ethics.”

“All the boys and girls in my family danced,” Roger said. “But I dunno. It’ll be a leap from ballet to hip hop.”

“Not as much of a leap as you think.”

“I’m not gay, by the way. You know… the ballet.”

“I didn’t think you were,” I mutter awkwardly, hoping he can’t see through my lie.

Our eyes flicker to each other’s, and I feel really weird. Is he trying to flirt with me? Honestly, I did think Roger was gay until he blurted that he wasn’t.

A loud whistle from across the room drags my attention away from Roger, but I immediately regret glancing over my shoulder. Thomas. He wasn’t the one who whistled, but he’s staring at me from his table of absolute assholes. Kit Barclay’s the one who whistles.

“Hey Clover!” Kit calls. “Show me your knickers!”

The entire table bursts into laughter, including Jude who thumps Kit on the arm and Thomas, who doesn’t exactly burst into laughter, but he has that annoying smirk plastered all over his face. I seriously regret everything that happened with Kit and I regret it even more now that I know how annoying he is. He promised he would be cool about what happened with us.

Roger clears his throat, but he doesn’t smirk. He looks a little… angry. It’s nice to feel like there’s someone on my side when I blatantly ignore Kit Barclay.

“Do you know them?”

“Not really.”

“Kit’s a cunt.”

I guess Roger knows him.

“Do you live together?”

Roger shakes his head, but he adds no further explanation as to why he seems completely certain that Kit Barclay is in fact, a cunt.

“I have a single,” Roger says. “Lucky.”

I want to blurt out that I thought they only gave out single rooms to people with mental health issues, but it seems inappropriate to pry. I just hope Roger doesn’t ask me anything about America or my past… or my last name. My worst fear is someone at this place having the sense to Google me. I just want to be anonymous, you know?

“CLOVER!” Kit calls again. “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME ASK FOR YOUR KNICKERS.”

I want to bury my head into my half-finished plate of scrambled eggs. Roger clears his throat.

“That’s rather rude.”

If Roger says anything after that, I don’t hear it because I’m staring over at Kit and his friends. Kit’s laughing hysterically as they all huddle around him whispers. I don’t like what I see and after what happened to Sylvia this morning, a terrified chill runs down my spine. I quickly swallow my last bite and mutter to Roger that I have to go before slinging my bag over my shoulder and attempting to clear my tray. I don’t make it five feet before half the rowing team encircles me. I try to step back and slam straight into Jude Fox.