Fear University

by Meg Collett

  Beside me, much too overly enthusiastic for what a morning warranted, Sunny practically skipped along, her cute little braid bouncing against her back. “ . . . So then I was, like, ‘well sir, if you wouldn’t try to cut off chicken fat with a scythe, you wouldn’t cut your blankety-blank thumb off—’ ”

  “Are you supposed to tell me these things?” I asked, cutting her off during another one of her very gross, very detailed stories from the working in the ward. “Like HIPAA laws and all that?”

  “Oh, please.” Sunny snorted. “This is Fear University. HIPAA is for pus-o’lahs.”

  “Pus-o’lahs?”

  “You know. Like, the p-word? For down there?” I didn’t catch where Sunny pointed on her own body, but I got the gist. I shook my head, unable to keep the smile from my face.

  “How do you come up with this stuff?” Thinking better of my question, I held up my hand before Sunny launched into another ten-minute conversation. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  Sunny laughed and swung through the cafeteria door. We were pretty late, since Sunny’s perkiness had made me hide under the covers too long this morning. Luckily, it didn’t take much time to pick out a new outfit from my very well-stocked closet, thanks to Dean’s generous allotment of student credits and the well-supplied general store. No more Fear University uniform for me. If I was going to stand out, I was going to do it in style and comfort. I wore my new motorcycle boots, a new pair of black torn jeans, and a very cool, tattered, tank top that showed off my electric-orange bra underneath.

  On cue, Sunny shot a side-long glance out my outfit, the millionth skeptical look from her this morning. “What is it?” I asked as we wove through the students clustered in the cafeteria.

  She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you nervous about, um, not being in uniform?”

  “Not really,” I said with a shrug.

  “What about getting demerits?”

  I frowned. “What’s a demerit?”

  “Like a mark on your record?” Sunny’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “If you get fifteen, you have to help the cleaning staff on the weekends.”

  I snorted. Yet another thing to not give a shit about. Who knew? “I’ll risk it.”

  We got in line at the breakfast buffet, plastic trays in hand. I hadn’t paid attention to who we stood behind until Jolene and Allison turned around, their faces stretching into suspiciously delighted grins. Sunny immediately tensed beside me, but I cocked my eyebrow and waited while I considered how much damage my tray could do if I was forced to cave in Jolene’s pretty face with it.

  I was picturing the destruction when Jolene said, “Well if it isn’t a Little Goth Civvie and the Cowardly Lyon!”

  “Did you two have a special night last night?” Allison’s voice chirped like a bird that needed a bullet straight to its beak.

  “Um,” Sunny said, trying to smile, “sure?”

  Sunny’s gaze darted between me and the Douche Twins, but Jolene didn’t let my silence deter her. “We saw that you two shared a room last night, and we think it’s great.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked dryly, wanting to hurry the conversation along. Sweet-smelling bacon was calling my name from farther down the buffet.

  “That you and Sunny can be so open about your relationship.”

  “Being lesbians and all,” Allison chimed in.

  My eyes peeled away from the bacon, and I gave Jolene and Allison my full, undivided, tray-wielding attention. Beside me, Sunny gargled her words like mouthwash, a blush spreading to her ears. Everyone in the cafeteria had gone quiet; clearly, word of our night together had spread, and I practically felt Sunny melting into the floor faster than the Wicked Witch of the West in a wet T-shirt contest. From the corner of my eye, I saw a group of hunters come into the cafeteria, Luke and Hatter among them. Like the rest of the cafeteria, they paused and watched the drama.

  I didn’t care about Luke being here, but I would be damned if Sunny was going to be embarrassed in front of Hatter. Okay, fine. Maybe I did care that Luke had walked in, but I still would’ve turned this bitch’s face inside out anyway. The violence curled in my blood, ready and willing.

  “We were just . . . It wasn’t like that . . .” Sunny tried to explain, her eyes darting toward Hatter, who still stood with Luke at the other side of the long room.

  “Oh, Sunny! Don’t belittle your love like that. Really and truly, we think it’s great,” Allison gushed, her words ringing through the cafeteria. Jolene smirked beside her. Really and truly, her face would look a lot better when I stabbed it bloody with a quickly made lunch tray shiv.

  “You think it’s great, don’t you, Ollie?” Jolene blinked at me innocently, waiting for any response she could pounce on to try and humiliate us.

  My grip tightened on the tray and I closed the distance between us.

  Jolene took a quick step back. Across the room, Luke and Hatter moved toward us, Luke’s face grim. His advance snapped me back into a rational, less lethal frame of mind. If I beat the shit out of Jolene, I might get tossed out of Fear University before I proved my worth in the evaluation and gained my pardon at the end of the semester. I would have to play this safe.

  I met Jolene’s stare head-on and plastered a delightfully crazy grin on my face. Her mocking smirk faltered. Maybe she’d actually hoped to provoke me so I would be kicked out.

  “Oh, Jolene!” I cooed. “You figured us out, you wonderful little homophobic heifer! Not that we want to keep our love a secret. Not that anyone should ever have to keep their love a secret. But I’m so glad that with the two of you syphilis-swindling sluts, people in this school will feel comfortable to share their equal love all over the place. Why,” I said, spreading my arms wide and letting the tray dangle from my fingertips. I really imagined slamming it into Jolene’s face. “I could kiss you!”

  Sunny gasped. Allison’s eyes bugged out of her head. Luke and Hatter came to a screeching stop. I swear, I think all the students’ hearts in the cafeteria paused, waiting to see what would happen next, like the split second before a train wreck.

  The moment passed. Hearts thundered. The train wrecked.

  I kissed her.

  Right there. In the middle of the cafeteria. I wrapped my arms around Jolene’s tall, skinny body and laid a big smacker on her overly lip-glossed lips. Her makeup, caked on, contoured, and likely spray-glued to her face, smelled like a musty doll pulled down from the attic. She was so stunned that she didn’t push me away until I finished smashing my lips to hers in the wettest, loudest kiss I’d ever had the misfortune of participating in. I stepped back and swiped my hand across my lips.

  There has never been such a complete, resounding silence as there was in that cafeteria right then.

  I shifted back on the heels of my unlaced boots and waited, still grinning as I watched Jolene’s face go from red, to purple, to white, and back to red. Incapable of anything else, Allison merely stared unblinking at Jolene’s mouth, where smeared lip gloss colored all outside the lines.

  A snort came from beside me, followed by Sunny doubling over in laughter. The noise broke the spell. All around us, students burst out laughing, hooting, and jeering. They pointed their fingers at Jolene’s shocked face. Fists banged on the tables. Trays slammed against the backs of chairs.

  Hatter clapped Luke on the shoulder like he was congratulating him, and Jolene’s mouth opened and closed, the words to express my impending doom lost for the moment. I blew a kiss at her and moved up the line, aiming for some damn bacon to wash her taste out of my mouth.

  * * *

  The first five minutes of sixth period flew by. Not because the teacher allowed me to participate in the sparring today, which I was, and not because every single student insisted on re-living the breakfast kissing fiasco over and over, which they were, but because Jolene volunteered to be my partner.

  And then promptly punched me in the face. Crouching beside me, she whispered, “Don’t ever kiss me again!”
>
  I puckered my quickly swelling, very split lips at her.

  Her second punch straight to my nose was a cheap shot. Totally rude.

  Our gym teacher sent us straight to Dean. My stomach flipped with nerves; hopefully this wasn’t enough to get me kicked out of Fear University. It’s not like I’d punched Jolene back, though I was sorely tempted. For the first time ever, I really had something to lose here.

  Dean looked up from some paperwork as I walked in. From the poorly hidden grin on his face, someone must have already told him what happened. “Have a seat, Ollie,” he said before taking a sip of coffee.

  I sat in the same chair I had during our first meeting. “Sir, I—”

  He waved off my explanation. “I know. This is what I was afraid of when I warned you about some of the students not being as welcoming. Although I will have to formerly make a mark on your records, and remind you to . . .” He coughed to hide his laugh. “Not kiss, uh, unwilling recipients.”

  “Oh.” The tension in my shoulders released. “Thank you, sir. And I will. I mean, I won’t. Kiss people, that is.” I scowled down at my lap, feeling a blush spread up my neck as Luke’s face flashed through my mind for some horrible reason. “Kiss unwilling people, anyway.”

  Dean smiled at me, his mustache twitching. Though I knew I should be keeping my guard up just in case, I couldn’t help but feel a little tug in my chest when Dean’s approval of me so clearly radiated off of him. I imagined this is what other people felt like with their dads.

  “Also, I’ve had some teachers complain about your uniform or lack thereof today. Technically, we don’t have an official uniform since all the students here are over eighteen, but the teachers are saying your style is causing some unease amongst the students.”

  “Seriously?” I scoffed.

  Dean rubbed his temples, clearly thinking it was as ridiculous as I did. “Seriously. So I’m also going to give you a couple demerits for the lack of uniform.”

  “So I’m not in real trouble?”

  “No. Just focus on preparing for your evaluation in a couple of weeks.” My stomach flipped at the mention of it. “I’ll deal with Jolene. Are you okay to train with your face like that?”

  I rubbed my sore nose and mouth. “I’ll live.”

  “All right. But I want you to go to the ward first and have a doctor examine you to make sure Jolene didn’t break anything before you train with Luke today. Other than that, you’re free to go.”

  By the time I made my way down to the ward and found a doctor to check my face, sixth period had ended and I was late to practice with Luke. Holding an ice pack to my face, I walked back into the gym.

  “You’re late,” Luke called as soon as he saw me. He didn’t bother to ask if I was okay. Ass.

  “Been busy.” Without comment, he handed me the blindfold again and I sighed, lowering the ice pack, which, I won’t lie, I’d brought along only for sympathy points. “Really? I can’t breathe.”

  “Do you think a ’swang will care if you’ve let a tiny girl sucker punch you in the face and mess up your nose?”

  “First of all, she didn’t mess up my nose. It still looks fine,” I said with a sniff. “And secondly, Jolene is not tiny. She’s stacked like an Amazon warrior or something.”

  “So you’re saying you couldn’t beat her in a fight?”

  Well, shit. Time to change the subject. “I know you saw my kiss earlier. Did you like it?” I goaded, wagging my brows at him. He didn’t react.

  “Put on the blindfold and let’s get started.”

  I smirked. It didn’t escape me that he’d changed the subject just as quickly too. “What if I skip running this evening?”

  “Nope. Got to get your ass in shape.”

  “I’ve never had any complaints about my ass before.” Luke cocked a brow, muttering something I couldn’t make out. “What was that? You like my ass?”

  “That’s not what I said.” His jaw flexed, and I pounced like a shark smelling blood.

  “I’ll believe you if you let me skip running.”

  “Not happening, Ollie,” Luke said, frustration thick enough in his voice to make me smile so wide that my bruised nose hurt. “Put the blindfold on and let’s get started.”

  “Fine. But try not to stare at my ass the entire time, okay? It makes me blush.”

  * * *

  My first two days at Fear University were pretty hellish, but a change slowly happened over the next two weeks. The professors got used to me being there and eased off the hostility bus. First-year students stopped aligning with Jolene and actually talked to me after my kissing stunt in the cafeteria. A few even sat at the lunch table with Sunny and me, which was pretty cool. I made good headway in my classes, though Sunny still came to my room every night to study. Some nights, she slept over. I let her. The letting her got easier and easier with time.

  Evening practices with Luke became less like a boxing match of stubborn wills and more like actual training for the evaluation. He barely spoke to me and did his best to ignore me the entire time, especially when I goaded him relentlessly. Pissing Luke off had become my number one source of entertainment. When my numerous wounds healed, he doubled my laps around the fence line.

  He didn’t stab me anymore, which I appreciated.

  All in all, things were settling down. For the first time in my life, I had a place where I was safe. Where I belonged. Where I was wanted—for the most part.

  E I G H T

  I’d switched from working out in shorts and tanks to leggings and long-sleeved shirts. Though the gym stayed warm enough, the late September cooler air pressed against the thick prison walls enough that I didn’t want to risk getting sick. And though I was getting better at sparring with Luke, he still left enough bruises on my arms and legs from his obnoxiously well-aimed kicks that I was embarrassed. After my tussle with Jolene, I had a new badass reputation to protect.

  It was the day before my evaluation with Dean, and I intended to spend the entire evening in the gym practicing with Luke. Luckily, he was the type to not complain about missing dinner. At least, not out loud. He had his celibate, scowling hunter reputation to protect too.

  When the gym emptied out after sixth period, tired students hauling their bruised carcasses back to their rooms before dinner, I slipped into the locker room to freshen up a bit. Not that I re-did my ponytail or put on another layer of deodorant for Luke. I really didn’t care what he thought of me. But I sniff-checked my shirt before I slammed my now familiar blue locker shut, spun the lock, and headed out of the vaguely body-odor scented room.

  Before I crossed into the glass gym, I paused. Voices—angry voices—sounded from the training mats only feet away from the girls’ locker room. Quietly, I stepped closer and leaned my head out to see into the gym.

  Luke stood with his arms crossed, making his shoulders look broader in his white workout shirt. He had his back to me, but I felt the tension rolling off of him in stinging, fizzling waves. His black hair curled over his neck, which was dotted with angry red splotches.

  He faced a man who could only be his father, because they both had the same build, and the exact same hardened, sculpted jaw lines. But the familiar lethal violence in Mr. Aultstriver’s eyes truly convinced me of his relation to Luke, who’s eyes had held the very same look when I’d pissed him off in the van the first night I met him.

  “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” his father asked and Luke lowered his arms, his fingertips dancing against each other in their deliberate fashion. I almost cringed, beyond thankful it wasn’t me pissing him off this time.

  “I do, actually.” Luke’s voice contained an edge of anger laced with a lethality that made my spine tingle. “I brought back a prospective hunter to help us fight. She’s talented and smart.”

  Tingle officially gone. They were arguing about me, and it actually sounded like Luke had defended me, which shocked the complete hell out of me. We were cordial enough during practice, but I
’d never thought of him as a friend until now.

  Mr. Aultstriver clenched his fists, and I noticed the criss-crossing hatch marks of black scars across his hands. He wore expensive-looking pants and a crisp white button-down shirt tailored to his muscular form perfectly, seams nearly bursting when he leaned toward Luke. Both men looked ready to tear each other apart.

  “Don’t try to lie to me. You brought her back because you were thinking with your dick.”

  I blew a piece of hair out of my face, wishing if only. My thoughts startled me enough that I reprimanded myself, mentally slapping my cheeks. I didn’t like Luke. Or his stupid dick. He’d stabbed me.

  Luke went still. I wanted to see his face, his eyes. Why was he standing up for me? “I couldn’t just leave her out there after she’d killed a ’swang and was injured. Besides, she could help us win this war if she’s properly trained.”

  His father growled and jerked forward, grabbing Luke’s shirt in his fist to yank him onto his toes. Luke didn’t react. The position looked natural to them, like Luke had been in his father’s grip his entire life and knew better than to struggle. It made me sick. “She’s a fucking civvie. You’re bringing down this entire establishment. This place is for the elite, not orphan murderers.”

  “Really, Dad? That’s a little pretentious, even for you.” At his words, Mr. Aultstriver shoved him backward, but Luke was built so solidly that he barely moved. He smoothed down his shirt.

  “You’re such a waste. Such a goddamned waste. All those years I spent training you.” His father practically spat the words, his nostrils flaring. “All those years I spent teaching you, conditioning your fear. And look at you now. Nothing but a coward passing off our duty, our honor, to a civvie.”