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After seeing Dad, I was only sorry the party wasn’t tonight because I could really use a drink.
“Great. Maybe we can all get ready at my place.”
“Uh, Rory, I’m not sure Noah will want me encroaching on your—”
“Not Noah, silly. You, me, Dayna, and Ella.”
“Oh, well, in that case. Count me in.”
* * *
After a full day of classes, I headed back to my dorm room to study.
I’d been assigned one of the single rooms in Hocking Hall. It was a nice block. Clean and modern with en suite rooms, which was a huge bonus. But I hadn’t exactly had a warm reception my first week.
Things hadn’t gotten much better as the semester went on.
I pulled out my key card and let myself in, hoping to make it to my room on the second floor without running into anyone.
It was quiet for a Monday afternoon, but I quickly learned that college life was busy. People had classes, study groups, work, or team commitments.
Keeping a quick pace, I hurried up the stairs. But I should have known it was too good to be true.
“Harper,” someone called, the saccharine quality to her voice setting my teeth on edge.
“Natalie,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “What’s up?”
“No need to sound so worried.” Her smile was full of bite. “I just wanted to see if you’re free. A few of us are hanging out in the common room, and you never come.”
Because I don’t make a habit of hanging around with mean girl bitches.
I pasted on the best smile I could. “Thanks for the invite, but I have a ton of studying to do. Maybe another time?”
“Yeah, of course.”
With a small nod, I spun back around and marched up the stairs, only to have her stop me in my tracks again.
“I heard about your date with Mathieu.”
Everything inside me went still as I turned to face her again.
“You did?”
“He’s in my Spanish class.”
“That’s… lovely.”
Mathieu was a language arts major, and we’d hit it off in the coffee line. But one date and a French kiss later, and I’d already been given the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse.
“Too bad you weren’t a good match. But don’t worry, he’s taking me out tonight, so I’m sure I’ll help him get over you.”
“Good for you.”Don’t do it. Don’t stoop to her level.“I hope you have a nice time.”
Her smile faltered, surprise simmering in her eyes.
Girls like Natalie Denham got off on being mean. On putting others down to feel better about themselves. She’d made that perfectly clear during freshman orientation when she’d caught me sneaking out a guy. But it was nothing I hadn’t experienced a hundred times already.
Ever since I’d grown boobs and found the confidence to talk to boys, I’d been the target of girls like Natalie’s spite. It had never bothered me when I was younger—a time when a girl could be friends with a guy without the whispers and stares and accusations. But by high school, things had changed.
