by Tijan
Kristina would know what to say if she were here. Or Shay. Linde, for sure. What would Gage say? He’d know. He was someone I could channel. I ran through all the jokes he might say, but he wouldn’t. He’d be nice. He’d be kind. He’d say the perfect thing.
I should’ve had him come.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for that, but I’m here.”
I let out another deep breath and just sat there. What else could I do? Then, after a few minutes of silence, she reached out. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t get up and leave. She just sat there and she cried and she held my hand.
I would’ve sat forever if she wanted me to.
“Clarke.”
I was walking to class the next morning when Shay hurried his pace to catch up. He gestured to an empty sidewalk around the side of the building, and I went with him. We moved farther away to an abandoned set of stairs that led off the left side of the building. It was rarely used because there was nothing it led to, just a patch of grass and trees all around. I had a guess what Shay was going to talk about, and for that, it was perfect.
He lounged against one of the two pillars by the stairs. “Is your friend okay after last night?”
I nodded, sitting down on one of the steps. I gathered my bag on my lap, hugging it to me. “Yeah. She knows I’m there for her. That’s all I can do.”
“She say who raped her?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t ask. If she wants to tell me, I think she will.”
“Was she raped at a party?”
I looked up. There was a reason he was asking. “You heard?”
“Was it Sunday night’s party?”
He did know. “You heard.”
His jaw clenched. “Yeah. I heard. That shit pisses me off.”
“Me, too.”
“Look.” He sat next to me, turning his head my way. “I heard the rumor. I know who did it. I know who it was done to. I just needed to know if the girl from Sunday’s party was your friend or not.”
I frowned. “What are you hearing?”
He paused a second, like he was deciding if he should tell me or not. His jaw clenched once more. “You heard it was a football player?”
I nodded. My stomach twisted in a knot.
He said, “I know the guy. Casey Winchem. That’s your friend, isn’t it?”
He knew the guy. Of course, he would know him. He was on his team.
I said faintly, “Yeah. She’s my friend.”
He swore, turning away. “He has a type. Long legs. Brown hair. Dark eyes. He likes pretty faces.” He glanced back, his eyes lidded. “You fit that type.”
Wha—
“Are you saying . . .” No. What was he saying?
“If you’d gone to that party, it could’ve been you.”
Gage’s phone call made so much more sense. He’d been worried about me. My friend. Similar type.
It could’ve been me.
Shay’s words echoed in my head. I felt the first slice of fear. I’d never been legit scared of men before. There were other feelings about guys. How I hated them at times, how they were annoying, how they wanted to screw me, or use me… But I’d never been scared like this. This was . . . I wanted to bury my head on my lap. This was new. This was alien. This was not what I wanted to feel.
“Oh.”
He frowned at me. “Oh?”
I swallowed a knot. It could’ve been me. “I never thought of that. She asked me to go to a party Friday night.” I might’ve gone. If I had, maybe I would’ve had fun. I might’ve gone a second time. I might’ve gone instead of going to his house and studying. “We were at your place that night.”
“I know.” He cursed again before standing. He pulled out his phone to check the time. “We gotta go. Look, this could be a problem for the team. Is she going to report it?”
“Why?”
Did he want her not to? Did he want me to encourage her to stay silent? I was getting pissed just thinking about that. It was a violation of her body, and he was going to suggest—
“She should. This asshole’s done this to other girls. He needs to get locked up.”
Oh. My whole argument deflated.
“You want her to report it?”
“Fuck yeah.” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You thought I wouldn’t want that to happen?”
I used his words. “This could be a problem for the team.”
He rolled his eyes, cringing at the same time. “Bad choice of words. Yes, I want her to report it. This school handles sexual assaults in a good way. They take it seriously and the girl’s not blamed. They have policies about it. Every now and then, we hear about a rape and the team gets a whole lecture, in case one of the guys decides to do something stupid. It’s a whole preventative strategy, or that’s what Coach told me one time.
From what I heard, he drugged her, took her to his bedroom, and raped her. She tried to get away, but the fucker had her so doped up that she could barely lift her arms. Her friends thought she hooked up with someone and stayed, too.”
I gazed down at the cement. I hadn’t asked Casey for details because a part of me didn’t want to know.
I wished I didn’t.
She couldn’t fight him. She couldn’t lift her arms.
He cursed. “I thought you knew.”
I shook my head. “I just knew it happened, not the details.”
He raised his hand and then held it in the air. He didn’t know what to do with it. He finally patted my knee. “I’m sorry, Clarke.”
My last name felt right. That put space between us again. I could muster my composure again.
I nodded a couple of times, wiping my palm over my eyes. “I’m fine.” Class was probably starting. “Go to class.”
He didn’t leave. He stayed. “Are you coming?”
I shook my head. “No.” My heart hurt too much.
“I’ll take notes for you. I’ll stop by your place later.”
I wanted to laugh. The girls in my hallway would mess their pants, but I didn’t. He touched my shoulder once more before going past me and entering the building. I was thankful this entrance was never used. Emotions I didn’t understand and didn’t want held me sitting on that step long after Shay was gone.
I stayed and imagined not being able to lift my arms.
I was in my room that night when Shay called me. Grateful for Missy’s absence, like always, I answered and leaned back in my chair. “What’s up, Coleman?”
He paused a beat before laughing under his breath. “Coleman. Okay. I get it. We’re like chill buddies? Is that it?”
Was there a better description for us? I shrugged to myself. “We kinda hate each other but still seek each other out. I figured it’s time to move on from calling you ‘That Guy I Hate’ in my head to a name. Last names seem fitting. You can keep calling me Clarke.”
“I never know what I’m going to get with you.”
I was purposefully keeping it light. I wasn’t ready to dive into the deep waters we had been in when I saw him this morning.
Light and surface. That’s what I wanted at that moment.
“Guess that’s my charm. I’m not like all those other girls whose panties go up in flames when you walk into a room.”
I saw a chain email from Gage, and instantly hit reply. “Stop sending me these stupid things.”
“What?”
Shay was mocking me. I could literally hear the smile in his voice. I breathed a little easier, grateful he was following my lead.
He said, “You mean that burning aroma I smell isn’t your thong? And here I was getting cocky when it came to you.”
“First, ew.” Burning smell? “That’s disgusting. If anything, it’d be me having to smoke a cigarette before seeing you. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you’re a little stressful to deal with.”
He barked out a laugh. “That’s called charisma and primal animal sexiness. It oozes out, and you are affected. You’re just so messe
d up you don’t even know what it is. Your body is stressed from fighting itself so you don’t lunge at me. I know what’s good, Clarke.” He dropped his tone. “And it’s definitely me.”
Insert eye roll.
“And two,” I kept on as if he hadn’t spoken, “we hate each other. Remember? Let’s cut to the chase of why you called so we can resume the vow of silence we’ve taken around each other.”
“Holy fuck, woman. Vow of silence? What are you, a nun?”
“Why’d you call?”
I wasn’t starting to enjoy this call. There was no point. This guy wasn’t funny. He wasn’t sexy—his words, not mine—and there was no thawing at my hatred wall for him. Nope. No thawing at all. My body was warming because I had a sweater on, and in this weather, was that really needed?
I think not.
“I’ve got those notes for you.”
Everything went on high alert. I bolted upright. Red alarms were blaring in my eardrums. “Okay.”
“I’m downstairs.”
“What?” A myriad of curses spewed from me before I realized I was even cursing. I shoved back the chair to stand. “Why are you here? I have a rule!”
“A rule?”
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!
The sweater was too constricting all of a sudden. I felt like I was being choked to death. It was too close to my neck. Hitting the speaker button, I flung my phone onto the bed and tugged at my sweater.
“Yes. Guys I know don’t come here. Ever.”
“Any guy? Are you serious?”
Pulling off the sweater hadn’t helped. I still felt like I couldn’t breathe. Scrambling around, I grabbed for a tank top. It was see-through. I almost tore it as I pulled it off. “Yes. Any guy. Especially guys like you.”
“Me?” His confusion was clear. “What’s wrong with guys like me? Because we hate each other?”
I tore through my drawer and grabbed at a black top. It was short-sleeved, but it’d do. I yanked it on, popping my head out. “Hot guys. Guys who make girls drool. Guys who warrant attention and jealousy. And since we’re on the topic, if you ever see me in public, act like you don’t know me.”
“You’re a nutcase.”
“Just go right past me.” I brushed my hands against each other, going the opposite direction. “Like two passing buses in the night.”
“The phrase is two passing ships in the night, and no. I’m not a complete asshole. If I see you in public, I reserve my right to come over and piss you off. I’m starting to get enjoyment from this on the daily.”
“No.” I almost gasped. “Daily?”
“Daily,” he drawled. “Now, get that cute ass down here so I can give you these notes.”
I groaned but disconnected the call, grabbed my room key, and headed down. I was fine with letting the door slam behind me. It matched my mood, and fuck those two neighbors who hissed at anything that moved in the hallway. We were people. People had to move to exist.
Their door opened and one appeared, her face already scrunched in annoyance.
I gave her the middle finger, gliding right past. “Save it. I’m in a hurry.”
She huffed but retreated back into her room. Their door closed with a soft click.
I rolled my eyes, hurrying down the stairs. Swinging around the last doorway that separated the living area and the lobby, I stopped in confusion.
There was no Shay.
I expected him to be leaning against the desk, four or five girls hanging on his every word, but nothing. Only two girls talking in the waiting lobby and Sabrina, who laughed when she saw me and pointed out the door. “He’s at the back door.”
“Oh.” I brightened. That was much better. “Thanks.” I went back inside and down the first floor. It was the quickest way to that door. I was almost grinning from delight as I shoved open the back door. If I hit him, hey, all was fair in the war we were fighting of who could piss each other off the best.
It didn’t.
He was leaning against the wall, the back of his head resting on the brick, and he looked over to smirk at me. “I want to see your room.”
I thrust my hand out. “I’ll take those notes.”
That smirk just widened. He patted his bag and pushed off from the wall. “They’re in my email. I need to get on a computer.” He patted my arm and moved past me, heading inside. “I can use yours.”
“Hey!” I followed him in.
He was looking up the stairs. “Sabrina said you were on the fourth floor. You saw my place. I want to see yours. It’s only fair.”
He wasn’t waiting for my go-ahead. He was already up and rounding second floor to third. He’d be at my floor before I could get there. “Stop! I am not okay with this.”
He was at the third-floor door. He glanced down with that same goddamn smirk. “Better tell me which room or I’m going to hang out in the hallway.”
“Why are you always smirking? Is it permanently attached to your face?”
“What room, Clarke?” He was at my hallway door.
Fucking hell. I gritted my teeth. “Wait. Just wait. My door automatically locks.”
He’d opened the door but let it shut. Waiting as I covered the last set of stairs, I refused to let him see me panting. I stood there, purposely holding my breath until he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “Breathe, Clarke. You’re going to pass out.”
I almost burped out the small pocket of air I’d been holding. “I hate you so much.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved that off. “We get it. Eternal damnation in hell, the whole shebang. Whatever.” He nodded to the door. “Stop stalling. I want to see your room.”
I was picturing pitchforks and fire. Maybe that was the burning smell he mentioned. It was hell, and all the fire in there. I yanked the door, glaring as I did. “Was this Sabrina’s idea?”
“Nope. All mine.” He was right behind me. I could feel his breathing. “She refused to tell me your room number, said I had to call.”
My eyes widened at the thought of him coming up by himself, strolling down the hallway, and then knocking on my door. Good Lordy gracious. Too many would’ve seen him at my door. I would’ve been the talk of the dorm.
I shuddered, unlocked, and entered my room. I gestured around. “Here it is. Not a three-story house with God knows how many other players living there, but it’s my little home at college.”
He came in, and I shut the door behind him.
He was nodding, taking it all in. “I like it. It’s cozy.” He pointed to Missy’s desk. “Yours?”
“I’m not going to be insulted by that.” Her desk was covered in stuffed animals, framed pictures, and candy. I nodded toward mine. “Much cleaner, and can I say, a lot more tasteful, too.” There were no pictures, no stuffed anything, and the only digestible thing was my coffee. My shelves were covered in my textbooks, notepads, and any office stuff I might need like a calculator and stapler. I had a marker board hung up with my schedule and a list of all the homework I needed to get done for the next few weeks.
He sat and gazed at the board. “You have every week planned out?”
