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I fast walk across the quad toward the Raven Building, my vision swimming with tears. I only slow when I hear Fiona calling me from behind.
“Charlie! Wait!”
I stop just before entering the building, clenching and unclenching my fists as I pace, allowing the cool autumn air to slow my racing heart.
Fiona catches up to me, breathless and concerned. I quickly wipe the tears away. I don’t want her to see me as a poor charity case, so I stare at the ground.
“I don’t need your pity,” I mutter, my tone brittle.
“I don’t pity you, but what that bitch did was totally heartless,” she says, her voice soft like I’m a wild animal that might bolt at any minute. “We’re friends now, so I’m making sure my friend is okay.”
I look up at her, my gaze softening, and she smiles shyly. I’m suddenly grateful she’s here—someone I think I can trust. Fionagrabs my hand, and we walk inside and take the elevator up to my dorm room. I throw my backpack on the bed and gingerly remove the ruined laptop.
“What do I do now?” I ask, looking at it miserably.
“It’s just a laptop,” Fiona says quietly. “You can check out a laptop for the semester in the library until you get a new one.”
“It’s not just a laptop.” My voice breaks as fresh tears fill my eyes. “My mom gave it to me. She’s… “ I take a deep breath to steady myself. “She’s dead.”
Our eyes meet as Fiona sits heavily on the bed with a hand over her mouth, at a loss for words. Finally, she releases a sigh.
“Well, we’ll still get you another laptop,” Fiona says, smiling tentatively. “But now I have to say I’m twice as happy that you punched Serenity in the face.”
I wince before giving her a tearful grin. “There was a lot of blood…,” I say, biting my bottom lip.
Did I do the right thing?
“And she deserved to have it spilled,” Fiona finishes for me as if reading my mind, her voice resolute.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHARLIE
I’m sitting in my dorm room on a Friday afternoon, typing class notes from the past week into my new library-issued laptop. It took the school a while to track one down since I didn’t reserve it before the semester started. It’s not as nice as my MacBook, but it’ll do as a replacement for now. Thank God all my documents were backed up to my iCloud.
It’s been a week since the incident with Serenity, and I’ve avoided the dining hall ever since, still feeling self-conscious about the whole thing. And people definitely know who I am now. So much for living my best life as a college introvert.
I’ve caught a few glimpses of Serenity, sporting a cast on her nose and two black eyes that even her heavy foundation can’t hide. Visceral hatred pours off her whenever she notices me, but I’ve been choosing to ignore her for now, hiding out in my dorm room more often than not. I’m paranoid she’ll rain revenge on me when I’m least expecting it.
I’ve noticed Lincoln and Trey around campus a few times. Okay, I’ve actually been stalking them like a creep. Though I don’t think they’ve noticed me lurking under trees or sitting against tall stone buildings while I scribble in my notebook.
They’re an unlikely pair. Trey, the beautiful golden boy with smiles for days, and Lincoln the mysterious, broody bad boy. I don’t understand their friendship dynamic, which is what makes them so interesting to me.
Of course, class is the only normal place I can casually interact with Lincoln, and he hasn’t said a word to me all week. He still sits next to me, his body pressed unnecessarily close to mine, so I have to believe it’s intentional considering there’s a sea of empty seats around us. I’ve spent the last two classes engulfed in his scent while trying desperately to concentrate.
I don’t know why he hates me so much, but I can certainly feel his animosity with every tick of his jaw and intentional glare. He makes me feel small, and I hate it.
Yesterday before class, I tried to speak to Dr. Jackson about trading partners with someone, but he told me rather dismissively that this wasn’t high school. “We’re all adults now, Ms. Bennett. If you can’t handle this type of assignment, you’re welcome to take a freshman-level class.”
Feeling self-conscious, I mumbled an apology and turned just in time to catch Lincoln’s angry glare, and it cut me to ribbons. Knowing he may have heard added another level of shame to my embarrassment because while I do hate him, I’m not a monster.
So, yeah, I’m stuck with him as my partner for the long haul.
“I guess, give me your number so we can coordinate writing sessions?” I said as we started to pack up our belongings after class. It came out sounding like a question, and my voice was all high and squeaky.
Lovely.
His gray eyes were empty as he snatched the phone from my outstretched hand and quickly entered his number. Then he texted himself and saved my info. As he slid the phone back tome, his fingers brushed mine. The touch was brief but it sent a jolt of heat straight to my core.
