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Chapter Five
2 Days Later
I’m here, at the gates to my new school. It’s not terribly far off from where I’d lived most of my life with my parents. Blackbriar University, more commonly known as Blackbriar Academy due to the set-up and requirements demanded of the students, is as imposing as it is elite. I know I had the grades to get in, and most likely would have, had I applied and had the funds to attend.
Fuck, I miss Kael. And I miss my baby. This isn't where I was supposed to end up. Stifling the urge to break down, I center myself and pull up to the booth.
Driving through the open gates after showing the attendant my identification, I park in the visitors’ lot. My small SUV is a lot more economical on the gas in regards to mileage than my big truck had been, and it’s also easier to park. Paperwork in hand, I lock up and hike my purse strap on my shoulder. It’s a bit of a walk to the entrance, and I take in the pristine courtyard, fountain included, as I pass through it. There aren’t any students roaming, and I’m not sure if that’s due to the term not having begun yet or if it’s always this sedate. I hope not, or it’s going to be a long few years.
It takes a few minutes of waiting at the office to get in to a counselor for registration, and I use the opportunity to try to memorize the headshots of the staff with their names. Some are dour as I’d expected, but they’re all middle-aged or older. Which is why it’s a surprise when a youngish man comes out to greet me.
“Hello, I’m Mr. Jacobsen. You must be Cordelia,” he greets me, with an outstretched hand that I feel comfortable reciprocating as his manner is so easygoing. “Let’s head on back and get everything squared away. I’ll have one of the students on site show you to the dorms when we’re finished.”
I follow him through a door and down a few offices until we reach a door marked Alexander Jacobsen. “Here, take a seat, and I’ll take your papers.” He rounds his desk, and I sit while he brings something up on his computer and begins comparing my information to what he has on file. “Everything matches up. Now, for the classes and extracurriculars.”
By the time he’s done I have a pile of forms to fill out, a full schedule, and slips to get my books and other supplies. My room and board covers everything from meals, to uniforms, a laptop and phone, books, anything needed, really, other than street clothes or anything off-campus. I could get used to this if the reason behind it wasn’t so awful, and I have to struggle to stay in the present and not get sucked into my constant misery. I’m not sure what else I’ll need an allowance for other than basic bills. I’m keeping my own phone plan, car insurance, and the couple credit cards, plus the storage unit. Not much else besides fuel and toiletries if I don’t like those provided by housekeeping. Yes, they have housekeeping.
I nearly stumble over my feet when a familiar and unwelcome face is waiting to be my escort. It was to be expected that I’d run into Drake's little posse, and my step-brother would be around as he’s a year ahead, same as Damien would have been. Like I said, I was pretty much expected to go from my high school, Mooreton High, to Blackbriar.
“Ashton.” I tip my chin at him, the best I can manage without bodily harm. He, or any one of them, could have stopped Damien. I start counting my breaths, in and out, as unobtrusively as possible. Worry registers in Ash’s eyes as it's apparent I’m struggling, despite my efforts, but he heads off Mr. Jacobsen as he comes out behind me, and I can only be slightly grateful for it since I’d barely managed to avoid the counseling he’d tried to foist off on me. I’ve gone through a couple months of it and taken the meds, and I’ve managed to wean myself off the daily ones without too much of an issue. Now I only have them on hand for occasional panic attacks and sleeping pills for the bad nights when I need sleep. Those put me out further than the dreams can reach.
“Cordelia, you know Mr. Reid already?” Ash’s tactics are thwarted, but I’ve had a moment to catch my breath at least.
“We’re acquainted; we attended Mooreton together.” I leave it at that, and Mr. Jacobsen wishes me luck and tells me to come see him if I need anything at all before leaving me with Ash. “Well, lead the way, dorms first please, if you don’t mind.” Mr. Jacobsen had made me two keycards for my room and to use for incidentals on campus, and I am more than ready to unload my arms.
“Here, let me take those.” I hug my papers to me more tightly when Ashton tries to take them. Apparently, I'm not quite ready to let them go after all. “Suit yourself.” His tone is clipped, and I give him space as he leads me to the dormitory.
There’s one. With three wings and six floors, the building houses a thousand students give or take a few. That’s how elite Blackbriar is. I have a detailed map I'll be going over as soon as I'm settled to find my classes, and since the campus isn't huge it should be fairly easy to memorize it. I have the rest of today and tomorrow to acquaint myself with the grounds.
“You should drop all this and leave. It’s not worth it, you know?” Ash finally speaks up after we’re outside and halfway to the dormitory.
“How would you know what is and isn't worth it to me? Maybe if you all hadn’t fucked up my life, I wouldn’t have been forced into this. But we both know that’s your specialty where Damien is concerned, don’t we?” Ash pales at the venom and truth in my words. The night of the wreck isn’t the only time he’s been culpable regarding Damien.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Stopping Damien was like trying to stop a train that's gone off its tracks.” He swallows hard, and I’m sure there’s some truth to his words, but I really don’t care.
“What happened, Ash? You wanted to date that summer, remember? We went out on a few that ended with us at that cabin Drake and Damien’s parents own on the lake. It was supposed to be us and your friends and maybe a couple girls they brought too. How did that end with Jag and Damien crashing it and me losing my boyfriend and my virginity and gaining a stalker? Care to explain that one? ‘Cuz no one else has ever bothered.” We’re at the steps leading up to the dorm entrance now, and Ash is making a big to-do about using the keycard reader— meticulously lining it up and giving it his full attention, like he'd rather do anything than face me.
“I can’t talk about that night. You wouldn’t understand or believe me.” The last bit is so quiet that I barely catch it.
“You’re right. I don’t believe a thing you have to say. Just hurry up and get this tour over with. I can’t stand being near you.” His expression turns stony as he leads me into the elevator, remaining silent as we go up to the sixth floor where my room is located.
That’s not quite true. I still hold a special hurt and bruised up place for my first puppy love in my heart, but he doesn’t have to know that. Or that I still find his dark and dramatic features hot as hell. I get a pang of guilt at even the thought of admiring another man so soon after Kael.
“Here, let me see your keycard.” Ash holds out an expectant hand, and incredulity courses through me.
“Right, because I trust you to have it, period. Unless there’s some trick to using it, I think I can handle this part.” My snottiness is a small comfort when I realize I don’t really have a free hand, and I’m either going to have to set everything on the floor, let him take some like he’d originally offered, or let him fish the card out of my bag.
Ash’s cocked brow and pursed lips say it all. I’ve painted myself into a prideful corner.
“Shit, just get in my bag, please.” The shock that crosses his face when I give in without an argument goes a long way toward perking me back up. “What, you thought I couldn’t be reasonable?” It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow, and I hope it looks more badass than it feels.
He rummages through until he finds my wallet, pulling out one of the copies of my school ID that doubles as my room key. He has a funky expression on his face, and I’m wondering what he saw in there that I probably wouldn't have wanted him to.
“You’re still going by Shultz?” I’m not sure why my last name is an issue.
“Yes, it’s not as if I decided to get a divorce. Not sure what business it is of anyone else’s though.” And it’s really not. If someone has an issue, they can shove it.
“It may make things… uncomfortable. I think, no, never mind, I’m sure it’s fine, or it would have been in the contract.” It’s as if he’s talking to himself now.
