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What? I typed the name in again, and got the same response. How was that even possible? Sure, it probably wasn’t a common name, but in a world of billions of people, surely there would have been some mention of someone with that name, even if it wasn’t the guy I was looking for. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a search return no results.
That in and of itself seemed as strange as anything else that had happened so far that night. Could search engine results be tampered with? Was that even a thing? I had no idea.
I put my phone away, awkwardly using my left hand since my right arm still ached if I tried to move it at all. Hopefully nothing was torn or broken in there. I tried not to think about it. There was nothing I could do for it anyway. I just had to focus on getting out of here.
* * *
In the end, I did sleep, fitfully and uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair. I awoke to the sounds of people filling the empty seats around me, and I groaned as I hauled myself upright. My neck was stiff and I straightened it slowly, wincing as it protested, then raised my arms up to stretch out the kinks overhead. Or tried to, anyway.
My right shoulder screamed when I tried to move it and I sucked in a breath, biting down on a whimper of pain as I immediately clutched it into my chest.
With the jolt of pain, my memories of the previous evening all flooded back in, my breath coming fast and ragged as I remembered Ian’s heart-wrenching reaction to seeing me again, followed immediately by the terrifying incident in the alley. I groaned, ignoring the curious stares of the people around me, and staggered stiffly to my feet.
I made my way to the restroom and awkwardly splashed water on my face one-handed, then went in search of some breakfast. Two strong cups of coffee later it was time to board my plane, and as the skyline of Los Angeles stretched out away from me in the distance, my heart squeezed tight in my chest.
This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. Ian was supposed to drive me to the airport after a weekend of catching up. He’d tell me I had to stay in school, joke with me about how he wouldn’t go easy on me once I was his apprentice, and then he’d squeeze me tight and promise me we’d see each other again as soon as I graduated.
I wasn’t supposed to be here, on this flight back across the country two days early, scared and confused and feeling more lost than I ever had.
35
It wasn’t until the flight attendant announced our descent into Maine that I realized once again I hadn’t thought this through. I had nowhere to go—school was still closed for two more days. I probably should have flown to Chicago and stayed with my aunt rather than head straight to Maine, but I’d been on autopilot.
The guys had told me they were staying locally, I remembered. I wasn’t sure if that had been true or not, but I supposed I could see if I could stay with them until campus reopened on Sunday.
I stopped short of pulling out my phone though. I’d turned it off before boarding the plane back in California, and now I didn’t think I wanted to turn it on and see what I’d missed. Everything still felt too raw, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to see anyone, or to explain what had happened just yet. Especially after the situation with Ian; I didn’t feel like I knew who to trust. No—that wasn’t fair. I trusted the guys, I really did. But I knew they were keeping secrets too, and I’d sure misread my relationship with Ian. What if I had misread the guys as well?
I decided to stay in Bangor. I found a cheap hotel near the airport and used my aunt’s credit card to book two nights, then locked myself in the dark room and spent the better part of the next two days either asleep or staring blankly at baking show repeats on the room’s tiny television.
While the solitude didn’t necessarily help, by the end of the second day I was so fed up with the instant replay of thoughts looping in my head, I was at least ready to get back to school just to get away from myself.
With students all returning from break, it wasn’t hard to find a car to drive me the three hours to campus. I put the charge on my aunt’s credit card, and only then did it occur to me that I should probably turn my phone back on in case she’d noticed all the charges and had been trying to contact me. I waited until we were close to campus, then powered on my phone. The screen lit up.
No calls or messages from my aunt—shocker—but apparently she’d been the only one of my contacts who hadn’t been trying to reach me. Two texts from Nora, five from Devan, eight from Micah, ten in the group chat, and twenty-two missed texts from Garrett. Only then did I remember that I hadn’t read or answered any of the messages from the previous day either, and felt a bit guilty. I had promised them I’d keep in touch, after all.
I didn’t bother to read the new messages either, because at that moment we were waved past the front gate and the car pulled to a halt in the circular drive in front of the admissions building. Three hulking figures were pacing the steps in front of the building, and my heart swelled in my chest. I’d missed them.
I barely made it out of the car before Garrett caught sight of me and practically lunged forward.
“Are you guys seriously standing out here waiting for—”
My words were lost as his mouth caught mine in a searing kiss that lit me up from the inside out. Any questions I’d had about his feelings toward me were erased as his lips moved against mine, harsh and demanding, and I parted my lips against the onslaught. He took immediate advantage, thrusting his tongue forward to tangle with mine until I couldn’t hold back a moan. Only then did he release me, his eyes dark and his breathing heavy.
“Jesus, Camilla, did you forget how to use a phone?” he asked, and despite the teasing words there was no trace of humor in his voice.
My head was still spinning from the sensation of his mouth on mine, and I had to catch my breath. I supposed I shouldn’t have expected a kiss from Garrett to be anything but intense.
Before I had a chance to collect myself enough to respond, the other two crowded around me, Micah sliding my backpack off my arm while Devan grabbed my shoulders to haul me to his chest for a hug.
The second his hands clasped around my arms a fresh wave of lightning shot through my shoulder and I cried out. The swelling that had been there that first night had gone down, and my arm was relatively painless if I didn’t move it, but other than that it hadn’t improved too much over the past couple of days. I’d been trying to use my left hand for almost everything, but it was hard.
Devan released me immediately. “What the hell—?”
All three gazes focused intently on me.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Garrett demanded.
“I…” I sighed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. “It’s a long story.”
