Page 98 of Darkest Obsession

Amina takes her shoe off and throws it at my face. After that… hell breaks loose. Sylvia tries to get out of bed. Theo desperately tries to stop her. Crispin holds back Amina from getting her other shoe and Clover… has her cell phone out, filming Amina attacking me. Crispin apologizes profusely, blaming her pregnancy hormones. At least he eventually pulls her off me.

Fuck’s sake. Why do I bother talking?

Chapter Forty-Three

Clover

Now that I know he’s not a huge creep, I guess I forgive Sylvia for her secret boyfriend. He’s cute, but I don’t trust him completely for letting her head back to campus alone after their secret tryst and putting her at extreme risk.

She has a severe concussion, so while she’s back in the dorms, she can’t go to classes for the next two weeks. Technically, she’s not supposed to go to the halloween party this weekend, but Sylvia insists that we’re going. She won’t let anything hold her back, not even a concussion that stops her from remembering things for more than a few hours.

The worst part of the whole thing from her perspective involves missing our dance team. Sylvia’s injuries might stop her from dancing in our showcase at the end of the semester, which means the competition in December would be out of the question. The college insists we put on a showcase as a ‘final project’ if we’re allowed to compete with other schools. It won’t be fair if we don’t get to compete. Inverness Prep students have been posting their traditional Scottish dances on social media since September. They’re taunting us. We need to teach these haggis eaters about rhythm. Real rhythm.

Kola and I don’t want to get Sylvia even more depressed about the whole dance thing, so we walk to Sylvia’s room together with apples from the dining hall and a giant scoop of peanut butter from Kola’s stash wrapped in wax paper. Peanut butter is weirdly expensive in England, so Kola brought a giant jar from home which we’ve all been treasuring since the beginning of the semester. None of the British girls get it, but when I gagged at Molly’s tablespoon of marmite on toast, she thought I was the weirdo.

We’re so lucky that all the black girls in our grade (just the three of us) are American enough to have a profound appreciation for delectable peanut butter. Yum. Kola and I hear Brandy blasting from the speakers in Sylvia’s room and exchange nervous glances as we approach. Sylvia’s music choices are like her personal mood ring and neither of us have ever heard her playing Brandy before.

“Maybe she’s got that white boy in there,” Kola whispers.

“If she had a white boy in there, she would definitely be playing Harry Styles.”

Kola nods knowingly. I creep towards her bedroom door, silently hoping that isn’t the case. Sylvia’s secret white boy won’t help her get better at all if he’s rocking the bed. She still won’t completely explain to us what the hell was so taboo about him. I caught bits and pieces, but I definitely didn’t understand her completely. I hope to God I don’t catch a glimpse of white butt cheeks as I put my hand on the door handle. I doubt that hooking up with tall white boys in their mid-twenties is a healthy part of Sylvia’s concussion recovery program. Kola knocks with her apple-laden hands as I test the handle. It’s unlocked, which is a good sign. The music stops abruptly and Sylvia calls for us to enter her bedroom. Phew. No rude white butt cheeks today. I push the door open and scan quickly for what clues her music choices should have given us. She’s wearing all black. Uh oh. Sylvia never wears all black. She dresses like a rainbow on her good days and with a bright monochrome color on her ‘bad days’, like when she wakes up too late or doesn’t get enough hugs. Kola and I exchange nervous glances at the rain of sunshine in our friend group getting down like this.

We pile in and it’s clear what mood Sylvia’s in – depressed. I’ve never seen her like this. Seriously. Sylvia’s always smiling and nothing can take her down. Kola drops the apples on her desk and rushes to her, wrapping her arms around Sylvia before our girl can even say a word.

“Who did this? I’m gonna beat their ass!”

“It’s Theo,” she whispers. “He thinks we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

“Oh HELL no,” Kola yells. “He’s way too big for me to beat his ass. Clover’s got this.”

“So you’re sending me to beat down the white boy?”

I fold my arms in disbelief. If I had any skills at permanently beating down white boys, Thomas wouldn’t still be kicking around kissing me in hospital bathrooms and probing into my personal life.

“You can fight,” Kola says with far more confidence in my fighting skills than I have. Sylvia shakes her head.

“No one needs to beat down Theo,” Sylvia sighs. “He’s right. This was doomed to fail from the start.”

“Girl, how did it start?” Kola asks. “How the hell have you been sneaking around with this guy and nobody notices.”

“Oh y’all almost noticed,” Sylvia says. “I’ll give you credit. We were doomed from the start.”

It’s seriously unnerving seeing Sylvia get all depressed like this. I blame this stupid boyfriend of hers for all of this. Sylvia doesn’t fall for guys easily. She doesn’t fall for anyone. If some guy made her fall in love with him, he can’t just push her away because other people don’t approve.

“You were not doomed,” Kola says. “Now how did y’all start.”

Kola won’t let Sylvia get away with acting all elusive. We’re onto her secret keeping.

“We met at my sister’s house in New Orleans. We started as friends at first. I swear. He was helping me write grants for small business loans. One thing led to another.”

“You got horny writing grants?” Kola blurts out in disbelief and honestly, a bit of disappointment. She probably expected something juicier than this.

“He’s my brother-in-law’s cousin, he’s way too old for me and Crispin just threatened to stir fry his testicles for getting near me. Our friendship, everything between us… it was a total mistake.”

I put my hand on Sylvia’s shoulders to comfort her. I’ve never seen her this upset and I’ve certainly never imagined her lovesick. Her lower lip quivers and then Sylvia starts crying which freaks me and Kola out. I wrap my arms around Sylvia properly and Kola wraps her arms around both of us.

“Don’t cry,” Kola says. “There will be other guys.”