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"Jace!"
"Okay, okay," he caves.
I can hear him come closer, but before I can back up, he swings the door open with force and hits me in the face with it. My head flies back, and my hand moves to cover my nose. Pain radiates around my face and when it starts to fade, I find Jace standing there looking at me like I'm the crazy one.
"Dude," I say incredulously. "What the fuck?"
"You said the door was stuck."
He's staring back at me like he didn't just nearly break my nose, and even better, like I'm the one in the wrong.
"I said I couldn't open it," I correct. "Something is up with the knob."
He shrugs. "Or you're just a weak little shit who can't even open a door."
"Ha ha. You're such a damn comedian."
I push past him and head for the bathroom as he chuckles. I need a shower. And maybe a shot of whiskey.
MAKING OUR WAY THROUGHcampus, I pull the beanie down over my head. My hair looks disgusting, matted down and covered in something slimy I couldn't manage to get out. At first I thought my shampoo went bad or something, but when I sprayed my cologne and it smelled like something crawled into the bottle and died, my assumptions changed.
"I'm telling you," I insist. "I think someone is fucking with me."
Jace rolls his eyes. "And I told you, I think you're paranoid as shit."
"Come on. First my doorknob is slippery, and then my shampoo is messed up and my cologne? It can't be a coincidence."
"Whatever you say, man."
It's obvious by his tone that he still doesn't believe a word I'm saying, but I know something is up. At first, my mind goes to Mason. After everything that went down yesterday, I wouldn't put anything past him.
"No one came over yesterday after I went to sleep?" I ask.
"Nope," he says, popping the p. "Oh, except Logan. He stopped by for a bit."
Logan is one of Mason's friends, but I don't think he'd do anything like the shit I've been dealing with this morning. He's more of the laid-back type. And besides, I don't think the two of them are close enough for Logan to do Mason's dirty work.
We come to a stop at the point where we need to go our separate ways, Jace's class being in one building and mine being in another. I go to run my fingers through my hair, only to remember that the matted down mop of mess is covered with a beanie.
"I don't know, Jace," I murmur, cracking open my Gatorade and bringing it to my lips. "I think someone was in our dorm yesterday."
"Dude, the door was locked and there was no sign of anyone—"
His words are cut off as a nasty taste fills my mouth and I cough violently, spewing Gatorade all over him. Jace stands there, his shirt covered with what was just in my mouth, gaping.
"Are you trying to die today?" he questions.
I grab the half-empty water bottle from his hands and use it to rinse my mouth out. "There's something wrong with my Gatorade."
He looks at me like I'm full of shit and takes it from me, drinking a small sip from it before spitting it out on the ground. "Okay, you might have a point."
"I fucking told you!"
Stopping a kid walking by, Jace points to his shirt. "I'll buy that off you for a hundred bucks, right now."
"My shirt?"
"Yes, your shirt," he presses. "Come on. Take it or leave it."
