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Gemini’s question has me dragging my attention back to the television. Tori’s got something pinched between her finger and thumb, but her back is to the camera, and it’s hard to see clearly.
“No.” A smile appears on Syn’s face. “They’re worms.” He watches as she cleans up the bed, and slowly starts chuckling. “That’s genius.”
It pains me to admit it, but I’m a little impressed. Not at the prank, although that is rather clever, and whoever did it deserves credit for that.
But her. I’m impressed with her.
I can’t think of many girls who would have handled that so well.
Any of it.
And in that moment, I realize why my dick goes hard for her when I know it shouldn’t.
I like her.
Glancing down at my dick, I frown.
Ah, fuck.
XXXII
Tori
My optimism at being able to handle anything Syn can throw at me is almost gone. So is the resolve at not allowing any tears to fall.
It’s just after 4:30 in the morning, and I’m sitting on the toilet seat as I brush my teeth in an effort to save what little energy I have. I haven’t had a proper shower in nearly two weeks. Despite constant emails to the university, trying to convince them they’ve not fixed the problem at all, my water remains ice cold.
I held off as long as I could when the blue started to fade, but eventually, I gave in and used the dye cube to redye my hair. Partly because my stubbornness is clinging on, and if my hair and appearance are fresh and neat, it looks like these bullshit pranks aren’t getting to me. But because I need the personal pick-me-up.
Using the jug Penny left in my room, I rinsed the dye out over the sink—which was also how I was washing my hair—because a jug of icy water was less painful than standing under the constant stream in the shower.
The sink, soap, and a spare towel were also how I was washing my body and shaving. Smooth skin was another thing I was keeping up with. The faculty turned a blind eye to personalized and customized uniforms every day… except mine. My pants went missing from the laundry, which is a step up from my panties going missing, I guess.
But all I’m left with are skirts. The temperature is starting to drop, especially in the evening. And the heating in my room is set to a level the university also tells me is acceptable, and yet, I’m wearing sweaters in my room—even when I’m sleeping.
Sleeping.
I should be so fucking lucky.
The university refuses to change my locks. Apparently, the only people with copies of the key are the custodial staff, and theirs have always been accounted for. It’s also completely impossible for any of the students to have done something as ridiculous as putting dirt and bugs in a person’s bed, and because I didn’t think to take pictures, no evidence means no crime…
When I’m in my room, the desk chair gets wedged under the handle. When I’m not, I make sure my most important items are in my bag and always with me, while I return to my room each time, praying to whatever deity or demon is listening that no one has taken or destroyed anything I left behind.
But sleeping?
I’m so tired I can barely keep awake in any of my classes, and I’ve taken more naps in the library than I’ve had in my bed.
There’s something in the air vent.
The front is screwed on so tightly that I can’t get in, but the night someone put worms in my bed, they also put something in the vent. Between eleven and four, every twenty-three minutes,somethingplays a high-pitched beep that even sleeping under the pillow can’t block. I’m already under my comforter because the temperature gets so low that my nose gets cold, and this helps keep me a little warmer.
At this rate, it will be a miracle if I pass any of my midterms. I can’t even fuel myself on caffeine because all the vending machines require the stupid student card to activate. Of course mine doesn’t work.
After finishing in the bathroom, I double check my bag for all my important belongings out of habit, then pick up my phone from the side. Cole’s face smiles back at me. I changed the photograph. Even though it hurts to look at it, some days, seeing his face is what keeps me going.
Tomorrow is Saturday. I’m hoping that after my morning shift, I can return to my room and get some much-needed sleep. And then, in the afternoon, I’m heading to the campus gates.
First, I’m walking into Keyingham to gorge myself on whatever the hell I want in the town’s café. After I’m full, I’m grabbing some groceries, which I hope I can sneak into my room and hide in my closet.
