2
“Where are you taking me?” I asked Riot as we walked across campus.
“Some place safe,” he replied.
I adjusted the bookbag over my shoulder and did my best to keep up. Riot’s long, lean body lent itself to long legs, which meant his strides were at least double mine. I loved that he walked with a purpose, but not when I’d barely had five minutes to catch my breath all day.
That, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking around campus as we walked, trying to see if anyone was watching. The rumors had kicked up all across campus after the trial, about me sleeping around with anyone I met, about how I couldn’t possibly know how to write the kind of smut I wrote without having a good amount of experience doing it in real life. The rumors weren’t exactly untrue; I was sleeping with the three top men in the VIP Lit Club. I spent a lot of time thinking whether or not the rumors were deserved.
One thing I knew for sure was that they hurt. All I wanted to do was write my romance stories and try to find a way to fit in at this school. What I got instead was a trial of the century and a reputation as the penniless tramp from a small dirt town who would do anything to sleep her way out of her economic status.
It was embarrassing and unfair. Why did people care so much? All of these rich, gorgeous people in one place, you’d think they’d be able to figure out a better way to spend their free time.
It wasn’t all of them. I thought fondly of Tiffany, Sunny, and Jessica, my three study group friends. They hadn’t judged me one bit for the rumors.
That hadn’t stopped them from wanting to know more about how true they were.
Some students shot glances at me here and there. I wanted to fold myself up and stuff myself inside my bookbag. I hoped my relationships wouldn’t come back on me somehow, or on any of the guys. I was all for making sure men in power were kept in check when they overstepped boundaries, but I would hate for any of my boys to suffer the consequences for something completely consensual, and immensely enjoyable.
Before I knew it, Riot had stopped. My mind was so occupied by all of my racing thoughts about the rumors, I had spaced out for the rest of the walk.
Wherever we were on campus, the greens were still gorgeous, but it was a little different. The trees weren’t as perfectly landscaped, growing wild and free around a building that, while large, was nowhere near as massive as the others on campus. I took in the ivy crawling up the sides of the brick walls. It wasn’t exactly haunted house material, but in comparison to every other building on campus, it certainly had a unique look to it.
“This is the old music building,” Riot said. “They keep talking about tearing it down or renovating it, but every year we pull together just enough pushback to keep it the way it is.”
“I like it,” I said. “It’s pretty.”
He looked down at me and smiled. I loved it when he smiled. It was rare, but it lit up his face so perfectly when it happened.
“Are you going to invite me in?” I asked.
“Thought you’d never ask.” He fished a key out of his pocket and used it to unlock the door, pushing it open. “Administration doesn’t know I have a key,” he said. “I come here when I need a place to think. Somewhere the world can’t find me, where the world gets quiet.”
I took a step closer to him. He held the door open, waiting for me to step inside first, but I took a moment to press my hand flat against his chest and look up into his eyes. Sometimes, I wished I knew exactly what Riot was thinking, or at least I wished I could put him more at ease.
“I like it when you’re talkative,” I said before slipping into the abandoned hall.
Riot made a brief grumble in his throat before stepping inside with me and letting the door close behind us.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking advantage of the light filtering through some of the windows. The building was simple; one long, wide corridor, flanked by equally spaced doors on either side. I let Riot take the lead and followed behind while looking around and getting used to the surroundings. Each room seemed to have a piano inside, or other instruments. Through the quick glances I was able to get, most of them were in disrepair.
“These are the old practice rooms,” Riot said, leading me slowly down the hallway. “They haven’t been used in years. The school recently built a new music lab in one of the renovated wings of the campus. State of the art.”
“So they let this place sit abandoned?” I asked.
“For now,” Riot responded. “Inertia. It was already getting overgrown with the ivy for years. They haven’t decided what they want to do with it yet. They might end up tearing it down. But I like it,” he said simply.
There was a certain charm to it, this magnificent place where people had gathered and made their harmonies all day long, different kinds in different rooms.
“I can see why,” I said.
We got to the end of the hallway, where heavy double doors rested. Riot pushed them open and motioned me inside.
I stepped past Riot and entered the room at the end of the hall only to have my breath taken away. It was a small theater, most likely a tiny event space or a practice hall for dress rehearsals. The theater seats were still in good shape, though there were leftover set pieces crowding the stage, sitting atop each other with no one to clean them up.
“I love this,” I said, looking to Riot with wonder.
“I’d love to see this place used for boutique performances. Poetry slams or live music events. Just small things where you can be a little more experimental than what would be considered acceptable for the big theater on campus.”
