Awakening (Covenant College #1)

by Amanda M. Lee

  I realized she wasn’t just talking about my relationship.

  “Is that how you feel about Mike?”

  “Yes.” Paris’ succinct answer took me by surprise.

  “When are you going to break up with him?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon.”

  Paris met my eyes evenly. “Very soon. I just have to work up the courage.”

  We lapsed into silence again. I admired Paris’ strength. I wasn’t sure I was at that point yet.

  “We weren’t together for four years, though,” she offered. I could tell she was trying to give me a way out.

  “How long were you together?”

  “About nine months.”

  “Still, that’s a long time.”

  “It is. It’s not four years.”

  “No, it’s not four years.”

  “No one says you have to break up with him,” I knew Paris was trying to help. “Maybe you could suggest seeing other people and still seeing each other.”

  I bit my lower lip in worry. “Maybe, but what’s the point of that?”

  Paris looked at me seriously. “That you’re just not ready for him to be completely out of your life?”

  “I don’t know. I feel like I’m ready to say goodbye but then, when I think about never waking up and seeing him next to me again, I feel like crying.”

  Paris nodded sympathetically.

  “Of course, I’ve also imagined smothering him in his sleep twice in the last week.”

  Paris couldn’t help but laugh. “That would be a whole other way to go.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not going to do anything until it feels right.”

  “What if it never feels right?”

  The question took me by surprise. Was that even possible?

  We made the rest of the trip to the library in relative silence. We both had our own problems on our mind. As we approached the library I noticed that a small throng of people were grouped together off to the side – and they seemed excited.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Paris and I both inched over to the group to see what had attracted everyone’s attention. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.

  “You are a worthless slut!”

  In the middle of the group was a tall, willowy boy that would look innocent in any situation but the one he currently found himself in. His backwards baseball cap, Detroit Tigers T-shirt and baggy canvas pants belied a teenager. His angry words belied a raging man.

  I looked to see who he was talking to and was surprised to see it was a tiny girl with mousy brown hair and doe-like eyes. She was shrinking away from the boy in fear.

  “I told you I don’t know what happened,” her lower lip was quivering. “I don’t remember what happened.”

  “Well, let me fill in the blanks for you,” the boy said. “You went to an Alpha Chi party and slept with half the brothers there.”

  Paris and I raised our eyebrows at each other.

  “I don’t remember that. I told you. I was drugged or something.” The girl was weeping at this point. She looked lost.

  “That’s a little too convenient for my taste,” the boy said bitterly. “I can’t believe that after everything we’ve been through you’d go to a party and do . . . that!”

  “I told you I don’t remember anything,” the girl pleaded. “Why won’t you believe me?”

  “Because your roommates told me that you went to bed with two different guys.”

  “Nice roommates,” I muttered under my breath to Paris. She merely nodded. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the scene playing out in front of us.

  “I told you, I think I was drugged,” the girl didn’t seem sure if she believed her own excuse. I believed her, though. That was the same party Brittany had went goofy at.

  The boy grabbed the girl’s arm roughly and shook her. “I don’t believe you.”

  Without even thinking, I pushed my way through the crowd and dragged the sobbing girl away from the boy. “Leave her alone.”

  I looked the girl over to make sure he hadn’t hurt her. She seemed emotionally spent.

  “Mind your own business, bitch.”

  I turned to the boy with my own sense of rage. He seemed surprised by my reaction and took an involuntary step back. I didn’t blame him.

  “It is my business when you start shaking your girlfriend like a rag doll.”

  “She’s a slut.”

  “Well, you’re stupid. Does that mean I can beat the shit out of you?”

  “Like you could,” the boy was playing up to the group of friends that were standing behind him. He looked a little scared of me, though.

  I turned my attention back to the girl. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded mutely, but I could see her lower lip was starting to quiver again. Great, more crying.

  “Apologize to her,” I ordered the boy.

  “No.”

  “You don’t hurt your girlfriend. And you most certainly don’t get away with it without at least apologizing.”

  “I’m not apologizing for nothing.”

  “Anything,” I snapped back.

  “What?”

  “If you’re going to be an asshole, at least do it with proper grammar.”

  The boy stepped towards me, clenching his fists. I didn’t know if he was going to hit me. I wasn’t going to wait to find out, though. Without even thinking, I raised my right knee and slammed it into his groin.

  The boy doubled over in pain – and every guy in the crowd had a sharp intake of breath at my actions. I wasn’t done though. While the boy was distracted I then grabbed the back of his head and slammed my knee up into his face – causing him to fall backwards onto the ground.

  His friends looked like they wanted to come to his aid – but there was no rationale for five guys attacking a girl. Instead they knelt beside him, all the while casting wary glances in my direction.

  I could feel everyone that had amassed in the little group looking at me. The boys were shooting me hateful glances as they gathered their friend and dragged him off. The girls were looking at me admiringly.

  There was one other set of eyes, though, that I couldn’t read. I could feel them, though. I turned defiantly to see who was giving me the once-over. I pulled up short, though, when I realized it was Professor Blake.

  We stared at each other for a full minute. I was practically daring him to admonish me. Instead he turned on his heel and walked away. About 100 yards out I saw him pause and turn back. The look in his eyes was thoughtful – not belligerent.

  Sixteen

  After leaving the library with the distraught girl, Paris and I tried grilling her for more information on the party. Well, actually I tried grilling her. She was sobbing so hard, though, we couldn’t understand a word she was saying.

  What she was uttering sounded like a series of whale calls without the water to filter them.

  Paris tried a different approach – cajoling the information out of her – but that didn’t work either. Instead, we ended up walking her back to her dorm. Unfortunately, she lived on the other side of campus in one of the all girl dorms.

  On the walk back to Wharton Hall, Paris was thoughtful.

  “Do you think they’re drugging girls for sex?”

  “I don’t see why else they’d be drugging them,” I responded. “You have to admit, something weird was going on at that party.”

  “Yeah,” Paris looked uncomfortable but she plowed on ahead anyway. “Do you think Will is involved?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “It’s not like he’s not getting any, though, so I don’t know why he’d have to drug anyone.”

  Paris nodded in silent agreement. “Still,” she mused. “He can’t be oblivious to what’s going on at that place.”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to ask him about it?”

  “I guess I’m going to have to.”
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  When we got back to the dorm, we wandered through the nearly empty cafeteria before returning to our room. The cafeteria is left open at night for those that want to study. The pop machines and soft-service ice cream machine are also left on, and Paris and I both indulged with an ice cream cone.

  We were at the machine when we heard some random giggling. When we turned around, we found Brittany flirting with several guys from our floor a few tables away.

  We went over to the table to join them. When Brittany saw us, I couldn’t ignore the angry expression that flitted across her face momentarily. She was probably annoyed that we interrupted her mating session. The rest of the table inhabitants seemed happy to see us, though.

  “Hey Zoe, Paris,” Rick No. 1 greeted us amiably. I noticed that Brittany had placed a possessive hand on his arm in an attempt to draw his attention back to her.

  “Hey,” I greeted him with a wide smile. I could really care less about Rick No. 1 – or No. 2 for that matter – but I’m always up for irritating Brittany.

  “Where have you guys been?”

  Paris and I told everyone at the table about our night’s adventure. I noticed Brittany sit up straighter when we told our story.

  “Do you think she was drugged like me?”

  “We don’t know that you were drugged,” I reminded her. “We should have taken you to health services and had you tested. If we were thinking, that’s what we would have done. Now we’re just working on an assumption.”

  “We could still go do it,” she offered.

  “Most date rape drugs are out of your system pretty quickly,” I said.

  “How do you know?” There was an accusatory tone to her voice that I found grating.

  “I watch television.”

  “Well, we could go anyway,” she turned to Rick No. 1 with what I’m assuming was her best seductive look. To me she looked like she was constipated. “Would you walk with us? I’m scared now to be out without a man I can trust.”

  I snickered under my breath. Rick No. 1 smiled at my amusement, while Brittany shot me her best PMS glare.

  “I think Zoe is right,” Rick said. “I think it would be a waste of time.”

  “Oh,” Brittany said disappointedly. “We could go back and see if they try to drug me again?”

  “That’s sounds like a stupid idea,” I interjected.

  “Excuse me! Did you just call me stupid?”

  “No, I said your idea was stupid.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “We can’t guarantee that we can control the situation this time like we managed to last time,” I said matter-of-factly.

  Brittany grudgingly agreed. “Yeah, it would suck if they managed to separate us.”

  “And I would imagine that would be the first thing they’d try to do – even if they’d let us through the front door.”

  “Why do you think they focused in on Brittany?” Rick No. 1 asked.

  “That’s a good question,” I said. “I don’t know. There were a lot of girls there.”

  “What if . . .,” Paris broke off, looking both thoughtful and reluctant to voice whatever idea she’d just had.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, what if. . . “ Paris took a deep breath and steadied herself. “What if they’re targeting virgins?”

  Brittany made an embarrassed squeak and shook her head disapprovingly at Paris. I was interested in the theory.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because that guy at the library said that girl was a virgin until she was with those guys,” Paris said. “Why would she say no to her boyfriend but yes to strangers?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  “Plus, we know Brittany is . . . “ Paris broke off when she saw Brittany glaring her way.

  “Frigid,” I offered. I didn’t really care about pissing Brittany off.

  “Innocent,” Paris finally supplied.

  Rick No. 1 sniggered as Brittany’s face turned a violent shade of red. “Just because I don’t sleep with whatever guy pays me any attention – like other people I know – doesn’t mean I’m innocent.”

  “So, what, you do everything but?”

  Brittany looked confused.

  “If you’re not innocent and you haven’t had sex that means you’re everything but girl.”

  Brittany still looked confused.

  “You know, blow jobs, hand jobs . . . rim jobs.”

  Paris couldn’t help herself. She choked on her ice cream she was laughing so hard. Brittany didn’t find me as funny.

  “You are disgusting,” she hissed, getting to her feet dramatically and flouncing from the table.

  The guys who had been sitting and listening were also amused by the conversation. Rick No. 1 actually swiped a few tears from his eyes, he was laughing so hard.

  “I don’t think she could ever give a blow job or a rim job,” he finally wheezed out.

  “Why is that?”

  “She’d have to stop talking to do both and I’m not sure that’s in her wheelhouse,” he laughed.

  He could be right.

  When Paris and I returned to the room Brittany and Tara had both retired. Since we had our second week of classes the next day – we opted for the same. Paris wouldn’t let me go to bed, though, until I promised to apologize to Brittany the next day.

  When we woke up the next morning, I was relieved to find that both Brittany and Tara had already left for class. If I was lucky, Paris would forget about my promise and Brittany would stop being such a pill. I know, a girl can dream, though, can’t she?

  My classes were largely uneventful for the day. Even Journalism 101 was relatively relaxed.

  When Professor Blake handed my paper back to me I expected to see a big fat F. Instead, he’d given it a 92. He’d even written “highly entertaining” in red ink on the top of the paper.

  I noticed Matilda was trying to shove her paper in her bag quickly. She couldn’t do it fast enough to hide the 80 prominently marked on the top of her paper. I also saw the notation Professor Blake had etched across the top: “Try using your imagination.”

  After class, Matilda and I were packing up our belongings and she was seething.

  “I can’t believe he gave me an 80.”

  “It could have been worse,” I offered. “That’s still well above passing.”

  “I’m used to getting As,” she said haughtily.

  “College isn’t high school,” I said succinctly.

  “I know college isn’t high school,” she sputtered.

  “Well, I’m just saying, we have to adjust our expectations.” Of course, I’d put zero effort into mine and still got a 92. I didn’t think that was something I should bring up to her, though.

  Matilda decided she wanted to talk about something else. “Have you seen Rick lately?”

  “We had ice cream together last night.”

  Matilda furrowed her brow. “Just the two of you?”

  “No, just a few people from our floor.”

  “Is he seeing anybody?”

  “I think he’s seeing everybody,” I said honestly.

  “Oh,” Matilda looked disappointed. “Does he ever ask about me?”

  “No.” Now she looked crushed. “Maybe he’s gay?”

  That notion didn’t seem to make Matilda any happier. “Maybe he just doesn’t like me.”

  I bit back my reaction to her little gem of wisdom. I didn’t think kicking her when she was down sounded like a good idea. She wasn’t Brittany, after all.

  We were heading out the door when I heard a voice behind me. It was Professor Blake.

  “Ms. Lake, would you stay a moment?”

  I froze for a second and then slowly turned to face him. “Why?”

  “I want to talk to you about your paper.”

  Crap.

  Seventeen

  Either Matilda didn’t notice my sudden panic about having to stay behind with Professor Blake, or she didn’t care. My gu
ess? She didn’t care.

  “See you later,” she waved brightly and walked away. I couldn’t help but hope she would trip and crash headfirst into the drinking fountain on her way down the hall.

  I turned and faced Professor Blake. This really was my worst nightmare. To my horror, things got worse. Professor Blake motioned for me to sit down at a desk. When I did, he moved to the door and shut it so we were alone inside. Sure, there was a whole hallway of students just a few feet away – but I felt extremely secluded.

  “I thought you liked my paper?” I was nervous, but I was fighting to regain some modicum of control so he wouldn’t see the fear.

  “I don’t really want to talk to you about your paper,” Professor Blake admitted. “I did find it amusing, though. I would have given you a higher grade, but your punctuation is atrocious.”

  “Well, then what do you want to talk about?”

  Professor Blake was contemplative for a second. He seemed to be having an inner fight with himself. He sat down on the edge of his desk and regarded me.

  “I saw you outside the library last night.”

  “So?” If he was going to try and have me brought up on some sort of charges for kneeing that idiot I was about to get incensed.

  “I was impressed.”

  Well, I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Not many people would put themselves in harm’s way to save a girl they don’t know.”

  “That’s more of a commentary on the apathy of our society than me isn’t it?”

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but the turn this conversation was taking was even more uncomfortable than I initially predicted.

  “Yes, it is,” Professor Blake agreed. “Still, you showed great courage in what you did.”

  “I didn’t really think about it. I just reacted.”

  “Yes, but most people would have reacted by running in the other direction. You ran into danger.”

  “I didn’t really consider him that dangerous.”

  Professor Blake looked surprised. “Why is that?”

  “He’s just another mealy-mouthed and pouty virgin. He thinks he’s owed something by society. I’ve found the easiest bullies to bring down are those that get off on hurting women.”