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He cups her cheek, swiping his thumb over it like he’d done to me not a minute earlier. Leaning in, he whispers something to her that has her smile turning into a feral grin. They leave together, and I have a sudden urge to vomit.
Though I don’t know why.
“What the fuck was that?” Betty asks, coming up beside me. Her eyes move between me and the door, wide with curiosity.
Shrugging, I grab the cup from her hand and swallow down the rest of the liquid. I need something, anything, to take my mind off whatever that was. Sensing my inner turmoil, she thumbs through her bag, smiling widely when her hand appears. She waves a joint in my face, moving her eyes to the door. “Wanna go get high?”
An alarm rings somewhere in the dorm, pulling me from my slumber. I shove my head under a pillow, willing myself to drop off again when the noise stops, but the ringing soon starts up again, ruining my efforts. I roll over with a groan and stomp to Noah’s room.
My fist raps on his door and it flings open, causing me to stumble over the threshold into his solid chest.
“Woah, baby girl.” Noah laughs, pulling me upright. I slink past him, falling onto his bed face first. “You good?”
“You need a quieter alarm,” I mumble into his duvet. I’m not sure I can do much more than that, thanks to the mariachi band that has taken residence in my head.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, moving around the room and grabbing his bag. “Though, in my defence, you didn’t hear me complaining when you two stomped through the door at three a.m. laughing like hyenas and singing Def Leppard. Badly, I might add.”
Groaning again, I bury my face under a pillow. “Did we really?”
“Yup.”
“I’m never drinking again.”
He laughs, dropping down onto the bed to lace up his trainers. “You say that every time. But Betty always manages to get you out anyway.”
I shake my head but stop instantly, as it only makes the pounding worse. He leans over, kissing my forehead before walking to the door.
“Sleep it off, and I’ll bring you food after practice,” he promises, slipping a jumper over his head and walking out to the living room. “Oh, and baby girl, take a shower. You stink.”
I toss a pillow at him, and he only laughs as his footsteps echo across the hardwood before the front door slams, leaving the dorm in blissful silence. If only my mind would shut off, then I’d be happy.
Instead, when I fall back to sleep, my dreams are filled with images of Theodore. Over the last few years, I’ve worked really hard to stop my mind from straying to him. Yet, in one night, he shits all over me and my efforts.
It wouldn’t be so bad if the last memory I had of him wasn’t of us in bed together. It was stupid of me to give the guy my virginity, but there wasn’t another person in the world I’d have ever thought of giving it up to.
Had I known he’d disappear the same evening and go back to pretending like I never existed, I’d have maybe done things differently.
I stay in Noah’s bed for most of the morning, only leaving when I realise he was right; I stink. I’m still wearing the dress I was last night, only now, in the harsh light of day, I look rumpled and messy.
My make-up is smeared across my face, and the scent of weed and alcohol lingers on me like a bad rash. The shower does little to clear my aching head or rid the nausea working its way through my body.
Wrapped up in a giant hoodie and fluffy socks, I drop down onto the couch, twisting my hair into a messy bun, before opening my Kindle and loading upWhen We’re Aloneby Genevieve Jasper.
There’s nothing better when you’re hungover than escaping with your book boyfriend and ignoring the rest of the world.
I’m so engrossed in the events happening at Oakview U, that I almost miss the text that comes through my phone. The screen lights up, and I pause at the name flashing across the screen. Theodore hasn’t texted me in an exceptionally long time, and there’s no reason for him to be doing so now.
Like he reminded me last night, we aren’t friends.
My thumb swipes the notification, loading it up, and my blood chills at the words typed out before me.
Theodore: Rule number one – Do as you’re told.
FOUR
“Homesweethome,”Gagesays, clapping a hand on my shoulder as he looks down at the students walking through the front door of the academy. I push him away from me, shoving past him to rest my arms on the railing of the balcony.
The dude is too fucking eager for nine a.m. on a Monday morning. But as I watch over the newbies wandering through the lobby, I don’t blame him. This is the shit we live for. We’re the kings in the castle and all the peasants learn quickly to bow the fuck down.
