Page 25 of Darkest Obsession

Kola and I sit near the front as the rest of the people in our class filter in. Professor Hubbard introduces the poodle as Mr. Candy, and makes him stick out his paw for a handshake. This class might be fun…

At least that’s what I thought. Kit Barclay struts in five minutes late wearing Ray-Bans and slurping iced coffee. Great. Just what I need…

When he walks into class, he doesn’t stop staring at Kola, or at least the empty seat next to her. I don’t want him anywhere near us, but there’s nothing I can do.

“Ladies,” he greets us, giving me an obnoxious and cheeky wink. Great, another guy I hate in one of my classes. I could sink into the ground.

Chapter Eleven

Thomas

I lean in the gym lobby against the wall waiting for Sylvia. No one is here this early, but I need to take over her dance studio again. We still have weeks before we get on the water and friend or not, rowing comes first. I stick my hair in a foolish looking man bun.

Sylvia comes scrambling in wearing… no bright colors. She’s dressed in black. See, I’ve finally inspired something in her. She’s properly listening to me that all that yellow is rather obnoxious and won’t help her attract a sane man.

“Thomas! You heard what happened to me, didn’t you? I’m sure the gossip hit the rowing team by now…”

“I don’t gossip.”

Sylvia rolls her eyes. “You’re so annoying. Someone broke into my room, stole my shit and vandalized everything. How did you miss this? Literally everybody knows. I’m freaking the hell out.”

Sylvia has a very weird accent, but I keep that to myself.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?!”

“Listen, Syl… It’s probably nothing.”

“Wow. Thanks for the great advice, Thomas.”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“Why the hell would I have enemies? I’m nice to everybody. Even rude ass white boys with gross tattoos.”

She throws a disapproving look at my tattoos. I dunno why Sylvia’s so old fashioned about them.

“My tattoos are not gross.”

“Can you at least agree to ask around and see if one of your fuckboy friends did this?”

Why do they have to be my friends?

“Sure. But I think it was a girl.”

“Why? Do you have proof? Do you know something?”

Sylvia has more energy than our dogs at home.

“No. But the time. The crime. It’s a girl. And my guess? She’s jealous.”

“You are so fucking sexist.”

“Probably.”

Violet would certainly agree.

“If anything happens, can I at least call you? You’re the biggest guy I know, so I might need you to throw hands.”