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Her face is even redder than mine as she fights to breathe normally again, but she nods. She takes a small sip of water and rights herself. “Do I even want to know why you’re thinking about that?”
I blush again and shake my head. “Probably not,” I admit and we both laugh, gaining us dirty looks from the librarian as she restocks books near us.
I’ve picked our table out with care. One in the back corner, not easily spotted unless you make your way through the stacks of books to reach us. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone to catch me off guard here, or to watch closely from a distance. After my unfortunate run in with Ashton, where he witnessed me wiping Carson’s kiss off my lips, I figured I should be more careful. More aware of my surroundings. The stupid pranks this week initiated by other students only confirmed that thought.
Wherever I turn, someone is ready to trip and spill their drink on me. Or stick a stray foot out to try and take me out in the hallway. It’s petty and childish and exactly what I should have expected when the guys started this crusade to tarnish my crown. I was once untouchable, I’m getting my first real taste of just how precarious that position can be.
It doesn’t help that I have to react in only Carson approved ways. By now, I would have just punched someone in the face and called it a day. Zaiden made sure I knew how to throw a solid right hook. Punch a bitch in the mouth is a sure fire way to shut them up.
I glower as I stare out the window. I’ve never been a particularly violent person. Not until I was dragged here to BSU. Something about these wicked halls brings it out in me. I wonder what in the world that can be.
“Are you trying to burn a hole through that window?” Shelby asks, a smile softening the question. I can see the concern in her eyes though. We’ve been in school a few weeks now and everything is in full swing. Including the bullying I now face.
“Just regretting my choice in topics for this essay.” I’m actually quite proud of what I’ve managed to pull together so far. Argumentative essays are my favorite types of papers to write and it was fairly easy to choose a topic. My thesis is strong and my professor already remarked he was excited to read my paper after I turned in my outline.
It was a risk to focus on fragile and toxic masculinity as the core of many issues in our country – with the statistics and research to back it up– to prove that feminism benefits and protects not only women, but also men, when my professor is a white, heterosexual, wealthy male. But there’s no reward without a little risk. At least he seemed intrigued.
Shelby surveys me for a moment and I can tell she isn’t buying it. “I don’t think that’s what it is,” she huffs. “But I’ll let it go, if that’s what you need.” I release the breath I’ve been holding. I haven’t wanted her to realize just how much everything has been getting to me.
It isn’t so much all the petty bullshit or even the guys. It’s the cloying, clawing feeling that climbs up the back of my throat every time I know I have to see Carson. It’s an anxious feeling that I really don’t know what to do with.
He’s been on his best behavior since our conversation where he slapped me. Sweet almost. It’s enough to almost make me wonder if I imagined the whole thing. Except I can still feel the sting of his slap reverberating through my face. The finger shaped bruises that marred the top of my arms are just now starting to fade. But you’d never guess by the way he’s been acting the last week.
Caring, gentle, forgiving. He hasn’t pushed for anything more. Only forcing me to put the act on in front of others, and even then he’s toned it down. Still overly affectionate but at least it’s been slightly less sexual and degrading in nature. I’m not sure what game he’s playing but I’m not buying it. If he’s trying to make me relax my guard, it’s having the opposite effect.
“All I’m going to say,” Shelby starts again. “If you do need help, or just to talk, I am here.”
I focus my attention back on her and really look at her. The look in her eyes is sincere as she offers her help. I never would have thought to bring someone else into my mess, but maybe if it’s Shelby I can.
Not all the way. Some secrets need to stay secrets for the good of everyone. But I can ask for help. Right? I chew on my lip as I think it over. I have to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t bring up any red flags.
“Well,” I start, still hesitating. “There might be something you could help me with.”
Her green eyes light up in excitement and I can’t help but chuckle at the rapid change in her expression. Maybe leaning on her wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
“You know how Carson is rushing Sigma Phi?” I haven’t told her much about Carson, but I guess anyone would find it odd to be weeks into school and not have met your roommate’s boyfriend. I had to give her some excuse and saying he’s busy with frat bullshit wasn’t really a lie. At her nod, I continue. “All the bullying and rumors about me and us are really making it hard on him.” That’s not strictly true. Sure, Davis takes every opportunity to throw the flyers and article in our faces, but no one else in the house has made a big deal about it. I know too many of the older members through family for the rumors to gain any real traction in the main house.
Shelby doesn’t know that though. I feel bad for lying to her, but it’ll keep her safer. She’s too honest for her own good. If she knew the whole truth, there’s no way she wouldn’t try to do something about it. Something that would probably get us all thrown in jail. She reaches over the table and pats my arm in comfort.
“I was thinking about doing something to try and help him since I’m the reason they’re being so hard on him,” I sigh when I really want to gag.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, tilting her head in thought. “I’m willing to help but I don’t know much about all the fraternity stuff. Do you wanna make them muffins? I make a mean muffin basket.”
Her honesty makes me huff a small laugh. She’s so refreshing to be around. Of course her first thought would be to win them over with baked goods rather than trying to manipulate them in other ways.
“No, not muffins?” she questions as my short laugh turns into giggles at her expression. “Key lime pie then? Or were you thinking cookies? I can ask my mama for my grandmom’s famous butter toffee cookies. They are to die for.”
“Baked goods are great,” I giggle. “But not quite what I was thinking. Though get that recipe anyways. They sound amazing.” Not for Carson. Fuck him. But I want to try these famous cookies of hers. I don’t know if I can stoop to that level of being the doting girlfriend.
“In our world, connections are more often made through business though.” Time to get back on track. If I’m going to get her to help me, I need to at least give her half of the truth so I can get usable information even if I use it to do things differently than what I’m telling her.
“How can I help with that?”
I hesitate, it’s a big ask. Could this come back to bite me in the ass? I really hope not, cause here goes nothing. “Well, if I could know more about the other guys in the house and maybe some of the key players in the main house I could help him forge the right connections.”
Understanding dawns on her and her eyes widen. I bite my lip hoping I didn’t just fuck up the one good thing I have at this campus. “Information. You need information.” Her lips spread into a huge grin. She tilts her head back and forth to each side before interlacing her fingers and spreading them out in front of her. “I can do that.”
I smile with her, relief flooding through me that she isn’t turned off by my favor. She picks her pencil back up and starts taking notes. “Any specific names?”
