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The first real smile of the day spread across my face. “Sounds like a plan. And yes, frozen mochas are my favorite.” Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I held out my hand. “I’m Irelynn McDaniel.”
She took it, her French manicured nails drawing my attention as she shook my hand. “Irelynn. That’s a pretty name. I’m Vanessa Bryson.” Standing against the vending machine, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and heeled sandals, she oozed confidence. Her warm gaze studied me as she nodded her head toward the exit. “Come on. I’ll buy you a coffee and we can swap stories about our nightmare roommates.”
By the time we sat down with our coffees, Vanessa’s easygoing and hilarious personality had me cracking up.
After that, we met regularly for coffee and study sessions, which was the beginning of our blossoming friendship. As luck would have it, Vanessa’s roommate ended up transferring to another university and Vanessa asked me to room with her. We went to the housing office and although it took some time, the transfer was finally made.
During our sophomore year, we moved off-campus, because the rent was cheaper. We found a nice apartment that was affordable for me. Vanessa didn’t need to worry about the cost since her parents were wealthy, but I was adamant that I wanted to pay my half of the rent.
Two years later, we still live in that same apartment, and Vanessa and I are best friends. She’s the sister I never had. I can’t imagine my life without her. She is always there when I need her, and she has always been my staunchest supporter and defender. Even when Ben broke my heart.
I broke up with Ben for having sex with Amber. Two months later, he came crawling back, wanting to have sex with me again. I refused and told him to leave me the hell alone. In retaliation, he spread awful rumors that I was having an affair with my psychology professor, Professor Martin, which wasn’t remotely true. Professor Martin had helped me with my research detailing the effects of grief on children.
But the rumors did some serious damage to my reputation and caused most of my friends to abandon me. But not Vanessa. She knew it wasn’t true and set out to prove it.
The rumors caused the university to launch an investigation into Professor Martin and me. I was nearly ready to transfer schools, but Vanessa was adamant that I remain at MVU. Vanessa was instrumental in tricking Ben into confessing he’d started the rumor solely because I wouldn’t have sex with him again, and she was smart enough to video it. She took it to the administration, and they dropped their investigation.
Pulling myself from my thoughts, I hop into my vehicle, turn on the radio, and back out of the parking space, heading to campus. As I drive, I drum my fingers to the beat of the music, enjoying the late summer warmth that streams through my open windows. My long blonde curls blow gently in the breeze as I head to the quaint campus of MVU.
Turning into the commuter lot, I pull into a spot closest to the bookstore and cut the engine. Leaning forward, I fluff my curls in the rearview mirror, then grab my purse and slide from the driver’s seat. A wide smile is on my face as I scan the campus that I haven’t set foot on in nearly four months.
Walking across the parking lot toward the quad, a large grassy area surrounded by buildings with lots of open space and various sidewalks leading from building to building, my gaze moves to the massive iron archway. Large gray stone columns are on each side of it, with Maple Valley University in large gold lettering across the arch.
Passing through it, my eyes immediately land on Stevenson Hall, which is straight ahead of me and the building I’ve spent the most time in since I’ve been a student here. Since I am a Psychology major with a Sociology minor, most of my classes will be held in the large gray stone building. My eyes trail over the wide, concrete steps leading to the arched entranceway surrounded by grid-style windows. The glass double doors are shut and there’s no activity around the building, but that will all change on Monday when students stream in and out of it.
To the left of Stevenson sits Cooper Hall, which may end up being my “home” next year if I am accepted to the Counseling program. A shudder of happiness runs through my body, making me giddy at the mere thought.
Strolling up the hill, my flip-flops slap against the sidewalk as I continue along the quad, heading to the Howard Union Building, affectionately known as the HUB, the multipurpose center that houses the campus bookstore.
The sun warms my shoulders and peacefulness surrounds me as I take in the relatively quiet, rural campus. Birds chirp happily from the large maple trees that line the sidewalks and buildings.
Students mill around the HUB as I head up the steps. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms prickle from the sensation of someone watching me. I stop, scanning the students’ faces around me. Most aren’t paying me any attention. Some provide me a cursory glance, then look away.
When my gaze moves to the left corner of the building near the bookstore entrance, I meet a pair of chilling, ice-blue eyes. An arrogant smirk pulls the corner of his lip up, his flaxen hair gleaming in the sunlight. His muscular arms are crossed over his chest as his stare bores into me. Terror fills me, making me shake.
It can’t behim.
William Anderson.
The man of my nightmares.
The obsessive, narcissistic guy who had terrorized me at Anderson Academy and made my life hell.
I haven’t seen him in nearly five years. Not since he graduated and went to college in California.
My hands clench my purse so hard my knuckles turn white. Closing my eyes, my breath heaves in and out of my lungs.
Calm down, Irelynn. Just focus on breathing.
Counting to ten while taking slow, deliberate breaths, I open my eyes. Blinking rapidly, astonishment widens my eyes as I give a slow, disbelieving shake of my head.
He’s not there.
There’s no one standing where I thought William was mere minutes ago.
My hand clamps over my mouth and I exhale a huge breath.It was only my imagination.Although, I have no idea why, after nearly five years since I last saw him, my mind would trick me into believing I did.
Especially here at MVU. My safe zone. A space William has never set foot on.
