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I wave her off, ignoring the pit of guilt in my stomach. “No need to apologize.”
“I guess I can’t party as hard as we did in first year,” she says, winking at me.
I laugh, taking another sip of my drink. “Guess not.”
We meet up with a few other friends and get to studying. I’m bouncing between my Sociological Theory textbook, reading and making notes on the legal pad next to me, and the assigned articles for my Law and Society class. It doesn’t take long for me to get immersed in my studies, and even the sound of conversation around me becomes white noise.
When I reach the end of my last article, I close my book and cap my pen, sighing. I rub my eyes and glance around the library. Most of the students have packed up and left, including everyone at our table besides Brighton and me. I hadn’t even noticed when the others left us.
“Damn,” I mumble, checking my phone for the time. We’ve been working for almost four hours. The sky is getting dark outside, making the space feel cozy compared to the wind blowing the trees across campus.
“You went to this whole other place,” Brighton teases without glancing up from her phone. She’s scrolling on Instagram with her textbook open in front of her. “Anyway,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag before flipping her book closed, “we should get going.”
I nod and pack up my things before we head out of the library.
“I’m parked across campus,” she says as we push through the double doors outside. “You want a ride?”
The wind knocks the air out of me, and I hug my jacket closer. “Oh, that’s okay, I—”
“Calla.”
I freeze at the sound of Atlas’s voice and turn around to find him leaning against the building. He’s wearing a black coat with a high collar, and that paired with the rest of his outfit and the annoyingly handsome way his hair is styled makes him look like he just walked off the set of a GQ magazine shoot.
My jaw clenches tight as he pushes off the building and walks toward us.
“Who is that?” Brighton asks in a whisper, her eyes wide and filled with curiosity.
“Nobody,” I say quickly, turning to stand in front of her and put my back to him. “Listen, I—”
Brighton sidesteps me and closes the rest of the distance between us and Atlas. I whip around as she puts on that charming smile of hers and sticks her hand out. “Hi,” she says cheerily, “I’m Brighton, Calla’s B-F-F.”
Just when I think I might see Atlas smile for the first time, he only nods, reaching out to shake Brighton’s hand.
“Erm, okay,” she says, pulling her hand back and flicking an awkward glance at me before saying, “Calla’s never mentioned you before.”
I step in quickly. “Uh, yeah. Atlas is a… family friend.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “He just recently moved here, and I’ve been showing him around a bit.” Lying to my best friend is just the cherry on this giant crap cake.
The curiosity in her gaze quickly turns to interest as she looks between us. “That’s cool,” she says, shooting me a wink that I think is supposed to be sneaky but is definitely not missed by the vampire standing in front of us. Brighton turns her attention to Atlas. “So if you’re new here, that means you probably don’t know about the St. Patrick’s Day party this weekend.”
He arches a brow, pursing his lips. “No, I don’t.”
She perks up even more at that, practically batting her lashes at him. If I wasn’t so annoyed at Atlas showing up here and ambushing me with Brighton, I would almost think it was funny. “You definitely need to come. Calla and I go every year. It’s a fucking blast.”
I open my mouth to tell her that I don’t really feel like going this year, but before I can get the words out, Atlas speaks up.
“Sounds fun. I’ll be there.”
I blink at him in surprise. Since I met Atlas last week, he hasn’t seemed like the social type, even among the guys. He’ll contribute to some conversations, sure, but he doesn’t go out of his way to initiate them. Most of the time, he fits the broody and quiet persona to a T. My eyes narrow; he has to be up to something, or this is just another way to show his control over me.
Atlas shifts his attention to me. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure,” I answer, glancing at Brighton. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Uh-huh,” she says, her tone suggestive as she looks back and forth between Atlas and me.
I shake my head at her before she starts walking across the lawn toward the other side of campus, leaving me to turn and face Atlas.
“Your friend is very… enthusiastic.”
