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“He wouldn’t have done that on purpose. I’m sure there’s more to the story. You don’t know him.”
“Apparently, you don’t. Look at how he’s got you all twisted. Fighting with your own father. This is all a scheme, son. I’m sure of it. More of his games. Dean Runkin has seen this behavior for two years. There’s no stopping him. Now, I can’t have someone who hits students living in student housing.”
“But you can keep him enrolled? Keep him around to make codes that make Whitmore rich?” I seethe, my whole body shaking.
“Now that’s the purview of Runkin. It’s not my place to say who stays and who goes—”
I cut him off, my voice full volume. “And yet here you are, having him escorted out of our room!”
“You are my son!” he bellows back. Both our chests are pumping, matching scowls on our faces. Never have we raised our voices to each other. Never.
Dad takes a step back and shakes his head. His throat bobs with a swallow and he exhales slowly. His voice becomes low and calm, and condescending as hell. “Son, I’m just pointing out the past, and I’m asking you to consider where we are in this very moment, and whether this was all orchestrated. It fits his pattern.”
Looking at the gentle man who raised me, who was always there for me, who always listened... it softens nothing inside when it comes to Xan.
“Get out of my room,” I say in my best bravado. “Now.”
Xander
Even though this is why I have a rainy-day fund, I’m not going to tap into it. Not just yet. The library is open twenty-four hours a day, and the gym has showers. That’s good enough for me.
Not having enough is something I’m used to. Roughing it. Couch surfing. Sleeping sitting up. Only two and half months to go until winter break, when Nayla’s parents will tolerate me for a few weeks. Then I can figure out next semester.
Too bad my best money-making scheme is bunked. But it was wrong to take money from Jordan and her friends. They’d do anything to go viral. That’s what they’d told me. I just wanted to see how much they meant it. For them,anythingturned out to be way too fucking far. They were willing to do whatever sick thing I came up with, and pay me for the trouble.
Anyway, that’s all over now. I’m not reverting back. Even if President Parker thinks I’m a piece of shit who broke my contract. Dean Runkin sure as hell didn’t give a shit, which means it’s all about me being around Cameron.
Of course, that’s what it’s about. Cameron is an angel, destined for wonderful things. He doesn’t need me around, blowing up his life with my past mistakes.
With my duffel over my shoulder and a backpack, I have everything I own in the world. The best thing I can do right now is focus on finishing the code for Runkin. Get it up and running and making money for Whitmore. Prove my worth.
You have to let people use you, if you want them to help you. That’s always been the way of the world.
The basement of the library is my favorite spot. It has that old funky book smell. The overhead lights are so old that they aren’t harsh LEDs like upstairs. Instead, they are bowl-shaped industrial lamps with big green shades that hang low over each table. There are a few dusty couches and chairs that you can pull right up to the tables. There’s even a bathroom down here.
It’s the perfect spot to set up.
But first, I need to stop at the coffee spot at the library entrance and take care of my rumbling stomach.
“Black coffee and a bagel please,” I tell the woman behind the counter. She’s in her mid-fifties, if I had to guess. Her hair is dyed a faux-red color, and she has fresh ink tattooed on her forearm.
“Love the ink,” I tell her as she passes me the steaming cup.
She holds out her arm so I can get a better look. “My daughter passed last year. It’s in honor of her and my grandson.”
I study the roses intwining with the dagger. “It’s beautiful. How old is your grandson?”
“Four and a half.”
“So young,” I offer sympathetically, knowing firsthand what it was like to lose a mother at five. Only mine didn’t die, she just abandoned me for a rich man.
In a low voice, she whispers, “I actually bring him up with me sometimes, he hangs out in the study rooms while I work.”
I smirk at the thought. “You’re a cool grandma. I bet he adores you.”
“He does.” She smiles to herself.
“Well, I’ll be unofficially crashing downstairs for a while. Send him down anytime. I started learning to code computers around his age. I could show him a thing or two.”
