by Sable Sylvan
“It is,” said Clove. “Sorry, Addy. You’re living with Sage. And when I say living with…I really mean ‘living with.’ I have to finish up my thesis.”
“I thought you got that done over winter break,” said Addy.
“Yeah, the first draft,” said Clove. “I’m going to be in the library or my room with headphones on. I won’t have a lot of time to show you around, but we can get meals. We do have to eat, after all.” Clove’s stomach rumbled.
“Where do we get food on campus?” asked Addy.
“Downstairs, in the dining hall,” said Clove. “Each dorm has one. You can visit any dorm you want for food, but most people just go to the dining hall in their dorm out of convenience. It’s going to be packed tonight because classes start tomorrow.”
“How do I get my schedule?” asked Addy.
“I’ll set you up on your computer tonight,” said Clove. “I’ll get you all the bookmarks you’ll need and everything. Oh. Books are delivered to the dorms automatically based on what classes you picked, so we don’t have to worry about that.”
“So, everything here is taken care of for you?” asked Addy.
“Bonimolean does a lot, but the one thing they can’t do is find shifters their fated mates,” said Clove. “Although the students do their best at handling that themselves. You ready to head downstairs?”
“Yeah, my dogs are barking and my stomach’s growling,” said Addy.
“Then we’ll take the lift,” said Clove, walking over to the last room. He used a key in the door and in a few seconds, the door opened, revealing an elevator.
“There was an elevator here the entire time?” asked Addy, folding her arms. “Why didn’t we just take this before?”
“Are you saying you didn’t like my tour?” asked Clove. He gave Addy a set of keys. “These are your dorm and elevator keys. Don’t lose them.”
“Got it,” said Addy.
The door opened onto a crowded hallway. The students in line for dinner looked like they were going to a frikkin’ ball. They were all dressed to the nines! Addy could see why Sabine had insisted on having her wear one of her cardigans, dresses, and kitten heel outfits that day. She didn’t stick out as much as she would have otherwise.
Clove led Addy through the crowd and into the main dining area. The students waiting in the hall weren’t waiting for seats. They were waiting for their friends.
That’s when Addy saw the one person she hadn’t wanted to see: Sage. He was sitting at a table with two girls, one with olive skin and black hair, the other with thick curly hair and deep skin. Typical bad boy playboy stuff.
Addy took an empty seat and Clove took the other.
“Sage, you already know Addison,” said Clove. “Addison, meet Georgina Rossetti and our cousin, Minerva Scoville.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Georgina. She had an accent that Addy recognized as Italian.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” said Addy. “Hello, Minerva.”
“Girl, give me a hug,” said Minerva, getting up from her chair and walking over to Addison. “You’re frikkin’ family!”
The American accent threw Addy for a loop. She stood to hug Minerva.
“Hey,” said Addy, squeezing Minerva back. Minerva had a plush figure like hers, and she knew how to give a heck of a hug.
Minerva pulled away and held Addy’s arms by Addy’s sides, looking up and down over her body.
“Good,” said Minerva.
“Good what?” asked Addy.
“We need more curves in this frikkin’ family,” said Minerva, crossing her arms. “These Scoville men have never gone for the skinny minnies…and that’s coming from me, Minnie ‘Anything But Mini’, ‘Bigger is Better’ Scoville.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Addy thought she saw Georgina’s smile fall, but when she looked again, Georgina was smiling. Addy must’ve been seeing things. How could this girl dislike her if they hadn’t even met before?
“Oh, no offense, Georgina,” said Minerva. “Addy, Georgina’s a model.”
“Oh, really?” asked Addy. “No offense, sorry! I don’t follow fashion.”
“Did Sabine give you that outfit?” asked Minerva.
“Yeah, is it that obvious?” asked Addy.
“Addy baby, I do my own shopping. Sabine has good suggestions, but I don’t do everything she says…but trust me, if it weren’t for her, Clove would be wearing a garbage bag with holes cut out for his neck and arms,” said Minerva, taking a sip of her Earl Grey tea. “No tea, no shade, no pink lemonade.”
“No ‘shade’ taken,” said Clove.
“I’m sure we’ll be fast friends,” said Minerva. “I’m on the hall below you. Frikkin’ Basil wouldn’t let me take his room even though he’s in Brazil. Don’t be a stranger. You knock on my door. We can play dress up. I’m sure we’re the same size. After all, that Scoville Ball is coming up!”
“The Scoville Ball?” asked Addy.
“But of course,” said Georgina. “It is the event of the season…every season.”
“Ugh, that’s the last thing I want to hear about,” said Sage.
“But why?” asked Georgina, stroking Sage’s bicep. Addy saw red for a second and then shook her head. What the heck was that? Why would she be jealous of this paper-thin waif touching a man she didn’t even want?
“My grandfather’s been riding my ass about the ball,” said Sage.
“I’m lucky I got out of it this year,” said Clove. “What with my thesis and Abby’s thesis…”
“We’ve heard about the thesis approximately a million times,” said Sage.
Addy couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. Clove and Abby had only talked about their thesis day in and day out in the days after Christmas. It had somehow managed to be worse than if they’d been all lovey-dovey in front of everyone.
“Laugh while you can,” said Sage. “I’m sure Morten’s going to expect you to make an appearance, too.”
“Wait, what?” asked Addy. “Ugh. I guess I owe it to the Scoville fam. I just have to go over to Norway for a night, right?”
“With a date,” said Georgina, touching Sage’s arm.
“Exactly, which is why Morten’s been riding my ass about the ball,” said Sage. “I have to find a date for the ball, and soon, or I’m going to have to go with someone he picks.”
“Wait, Morten will pick our dates if we don’t find them ourselves?” asked Addy.
“Typical Morten,” said Minerva. “I’m glad I lucked out in the grandpa department. Erik’s chill as heck. He just wants me to go and say hi to his brother, give him some kinda gift. It’s about to be a smörgåsbord of hot single shifter butt.”
“You mean a koldtbord, right?” asked Sage.
“Says the isbjørn Viking treating his kamerat av skjebne like a kald fisk,” said Minerva.
Sage gave Minerva a look Addy couldn’t interpret.
“Minerva, how are you related to Clove and Sage?” asked Addy, changing the subject to break the tension.
“Oh, gosh, so my grandfather was the delta of the Scoville Clan,” explained Minerva. “When Morten became alpha, my grandpa Erik became the beta.”
“Became?” asked Addy.
She saw Sage stiffen.
“Let’s not tell that story at the table,” said Clove.
“Anyways, so my grandpa and their grandpa, they’re brothers,” said Minerva. “While Morten handles Europe, my grandfather handles North America. My grandpa had three sons, and one of them is my father, the gamma, which means he got to do whatever the heck he wanted because he had no pressure. Anyways. My dad was down in Central America when he met the most gorgeous woman of his life in Brazil, my mother, Leticia. His mate mark proved they should be together, they got married, and he took her back with him to America. That’s where they had me.”
“I know I shouldn’t ask, but…are you…y’know?” asked Addy.
“Addy!” said Clove sharply.
&nb
sp; Sage looked somewhat amused.
“Oh, yeah, you can’t tell?” asked Minerva. “Trust me. When I said I’m not mini, I’m also talking about my shift. My mom’s not a shifter, but I got my dad’s shift. I’m a Scoville Polar, as big and bad as the best of them. If you were a shifter, I’d invite you to go on a hunt with us sometime.”
“How can you tell I’m not a shifter?” asked Addy.
“Uh, duh, no paw marks,” said Minerva. “Well, don’t worry. I have lots of human friends.”
“Ha-ha,” said Addy. “Noted.”
“Are you going out to the back to school ball this weekend?” asked Minerva.
“Nope, I’ve got…” started Clove. “Well, you know.”
“I didn’t know there was a ball,” said Addy.
“It’s a ton of fun, you and Sage should come,” said Minerva.
“I’ve got something else going on that night,” said Sage. “But thanks, Min.”
“I guess it’s just the two of us,” said Addy.
“Perfect,” said Minnie. “Now, what the heck are we doing sitting here? We need to get some frikkin’ food!”
Addy woke up the next morning bright eyed and bushy tailed (well, metaphorically) and put her things into her backpack. While she’d been at dinner, her packages had been dropped off. Clove had set her computer up with all the bookmarks and tools she’d need at Bonimolean before he retreated to his room to work on, you guessed it, his thesis. Sage was luckily nowhere to be found, leaving Addy alone with time and space to decorate the room and make it her own. She’d set her room up just the way she wanted, gotten a good night’s sleep, and had time to grab a waffle and some tea in the dining hall before heading out early to explore campus and get attuned to her surroundings. When it came time to make her way to class, she put in her earbuds and bobbed her head to the beat. The last few days had been rocky, but at least she was looking forward to her class. ‘Honors English Literature’ had a plain name, but it was the most famous course at Bonimolean, at least, among English nerds like Addy. They’d be covering all the greats, from Austen to Tennyson, with a focus on the 1700s and 1800s.
Addy walked into the classroom and couldn’t believe it. It was already packed to the gills. She smiled. It was good to be among people who also had her taste for fine literature. The only problem she’d have would be finding a seat!
She scanned the room looking for a chair. Only one seat was left, and she couldn’t believe who was sitting in the seat next to it.
How the heck had he gotten into her class?
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was Sage. Of course. The one time Addy got something nice, a bad boy like Sage had to come in and ruin it.
Addy kept her earbuds in and walked to her seat. She lay her things out and finally put her phone away.
“Hey,” said Sage.
“Sup,” said Addy, keeping her eyes forward.
“You settling in nicely?” asked Sage.
“What’s it to you?” asked Addy.
“It’s just a question,” said Sage.
“And prison’s just a room,” said Addy. “Look. We’re stuck living together, and we’re stuck in this class together. Don’t make this any weirder than it has to be, Sage.”
“Whatever,” said Sage, rolling his eyes. His bear roared and told him to make it weirder, to make her see that yes, this was more than just a coincidence, that it was Fa—. Sage shut the bear up. This wasn’t the time. He had an elective to finish.
The professor entered the room. A portly man with a tweed jacket and leather elbow patches, he walked to the podium with a cane.
“Hello, class,” said the professor. “You already know who I am. I’m Professor Bingley, and I’ve taught this course since, well…since I put it together! The great thing about literature from the seventeen and eighteen hundreds is that there isn’t new stuff coming out, but what we do with it changes over time. These stories are timeless, but our interpretations of them can be as well…that is, if they’re sound enough. This year, we’re going to be doing things a little differently. As you probably know, every year, every student must give a presentation on a randomly assigned book. This year, we’re going to be putting together pairs of students, with the schedule given out in advance, and by advance I mean, now.”
There were hushed whispers. What the heck was Prof. Bingley up to?
The professor tapped his cane on the floor once, and everyone shut up.
“Thank you,” said Prof. Bingley. “Now, I will be pairing you up based on who you are sitting next to right now. Whatever seat you chose will be your seat for the semester. Let’s get to it. We’ll start on this side of the room. Please announce your name and major to the class, and a fun fact about yourself.”
No frikkin’ way. There was half a chance that Addy would be stuck working with Sage and a full chance she’d be stuck sitting next to him? No changes would be made, so either she had to drop the class, which was unthinkable, or endure the torture that was sitting next to a man that simultaneously frustrated her and made her heart flutter.
Names were announced, books were assigned. Addy watched as everything from The Picture Of Dorian Gray to The Castle Of Otranto was announced, and finally, as the pair next to her announced their names and accepted their assignment of Middlemarch, her heart sunk. She knew that she was resigned to her fate.
“And you are…?” asked Prof. Bingley.
“Oh, sorry,” said Addy.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Sorry,” said Prof. Bingley. “You want to give that another go?” The class laughed.
“Addison Quincy,” said Addy. “I’m an English major from America, here for my second junior semester.”
“Oh, an American,” said Prof. Bingley. “Been a while since we had one of those. We’ve practically got a United Nations here. And your fun fact?”
“My sister owns a hot sauce company,” said Addy.
“And what is it called?” asked Prof. Bingley.
“The…Feminine Mesquite,” said Addy.
“I’m sorry, did you just say…” started Prof. Bingley.
“The Feminine Mesquite,” said Sage. “Sage Scoville. Music major, English minor. Junior. My fun fact is my brother is the CEO of The Feminine Mesquite.”
“It seems the Scovilles are not merely content with making history, they’re interested in learning about it, too,” said Prof. Bingley. “Well, we won’t be covering the Eddic poems or even Beowulf in this class, Sage…and I mention that because your brother Herb did ask, as did your father. Do make sure your paper’s runes are set to twelve point, will you? And do break that nasty habit of yours, the interrupting. It’ll be the death of me, Sage, truly.”
Prof. Bingley looked at the list of books he had left. He’d had so many years of having to deal with Scoville antics, from pranks on April Fool’s, which had made him look like an absolute noodle, to indeed receiving a paper written in the Elder Futhark runes of the Scovilles’ Viking ancestors. Fate was smiling on Prof. Bingley that day, and he called out the title of the book that he knew would make this situation even messier than it had to be, and even more entertaining for him.
“Congratulations, you’ll be presenting on…Pride and Prejudice,” said Prof. Bingley. “Next! Please, introduce yourself to the class, Miss…?”
As Prof. Bingley moved on, Addy sat there in shock. She wasn’t sure whether she was more thrilled to have received Pride and Prejudice as her assigned book, or whether she was more upset she’d be stuck with Sage and his ‘sage wisdom.’
Addy got dinner with Minnie that night before she headed upstairs to her room to study. She was taking a Gothic Literature class, an advanced class about Jane Austen, and a French class, and luckily, Minnie was taking French, along with Portuguese and Norwegian, because Minnie was a linguistics major. They were going to be great study partners. When Minnie took a call from her parents in America, Addy saw herself out and went upstairs to her room.
The r
oom was decorated just as she’d wanted, in the style of an English cottage, very Jane Austen meets Virginia Woolf meets Beatrix Potter. She started to do her readings for class when she heard something. It was the sound of a piano.
Addy got up. Had Clove left his music on when he had gone to study? The track started over again, and she heard a sigh.
What the heck? Was the Scoville suite haunted by a ghost with a stereo?
Addy went into the living room. The sound started again, and it was coming from Clove’s room.
Addy walked to Clove’s room and knocked.
“Hello?” said Addy.
“Come in,” said a voice.
Addy opened the door.
That’s when Addy realized she hadn’t opened Clove’s door. She’d been outside of Sage’s room.
Sage was sitting at a piano, jet black. No sheet music was on the piano. Sage was sitting on a leather bench. The dorm room was big enough to fit not only the massive polar bear shifter, full of Viking blood, but all the furniture that was in Addy’s room, plus the piano, with room to spare.
“Can I help you with something?” asked Sage. “Scared of the dark?”
“Sorry, I thought Clove left his stereo on,” said Addy.
“Nope, just me,” said Sage. “Was it distracting you?”
“No, it’s pleasant,” admitted Addy. “Is this part of your major requirements? You play the piano on the weekdays, practice guitar on the weekends?”
“I’m shite on the guitar,” said Sage. “Piano’s my game. I’ve been playing ever since I was young.”
“And your grandpa is okay with you being a music major?” asked Addy. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re a music major. You don’t care what anyone thinks. You just do your own thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Sage.
“Come on,” said Addy. “A bad boy playing the piano?”
“Who said anything about me being a bad boy?” asked Sage.
“Whatever,” said Addy. “Sorry to bother you. I should be getting back to studying.”
“You doing the readings for Bingley’s class?” asked Sage.
