“Name?” The single word is simple, but there’s a weight behind it, like he expects me to give it.
My brow furrows as I look up at him. “You don’t need it.”
“But I want it,” he breathes out.
His gaze dips to my satchel strap where it cuts across my chest, then back up to my eyes, still unapologetic in the way he takes his time.
“Sorry, I have better things to be spending my time on right now,” I say, the frost in my voice doing its best to smother the unwelcome warmth curling low in my belly.
Something that looks like interest shifts in the unnamed one’s darker expression as he laughs and runs a hand through his hair again.
“I guarantee you, whoever’s inside doesn’t want to deal with some girl who thinks the rules don’t apply to her,” he says, laughter fading into a bitter tone. “They already stayed late to deal with us. They’re going to kick you out.”
I shrug and step toward the interior of the building. “I’ve come too far to give up now, but thanks for your unsolicited advice.”
“Don’t thank me,” he says quickly, drawing my focus back in time to see the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m just saying there’s no way you’re important enough for them to stay.”
The urge to snap, “Do you know who I am?”climbs my throat, hot and instinctive. But that’s not the life I came here for. That’s not the version of me I want to be.
My grip on the door handle tightens as Callum grumbles, “Baby, don’t listen to him. You’re important enough for me, for the night.”
The line is so shameless I almost laugh as my head jerks back. “Has that ever actually worked on someone?”
His grin deepens, dimples flaring to life. “Always.”
“Then congratulations,” I murmur, pulling the door open with a slow, steady hand, “you just met your first failure.”
I step into the building and let go of the door. The city’s hum fades away as the door hisses shut behind me, but Callum’s bark of laughter is loud enough to carry through.
I feel their eyes lingering on me with each step I take.
CHAPTER 4
BRIAR
The office smells like burnt coffee and printer ink, the kind of tired, lived-in scent that clings to overworked spaces. I stand just outside of the doorway, my shoe awkwardly tapping the tile, clutching my satchel strap like it’s the only thing keeping me upright.
Behind the small oak desk, a woman in a soft pink cardigan sighs so heavily it rustles the papers on her desk. Her blonde hair is scraped into a bun that’s seen better days, and she looks one loose button away from snapping at me outright when she finally notices me. Every time I open my mouth to try to get her attention, I end up saying nothing. Stress and exhaustion pours off of her in waves as she flips through folders. Maybe this really isn’t the best time to plead my case.
Just as I turn to leave, the heel of my boot squeaks against the sleek tile. Her head snaps up at that and I grimace as her mouth pinches into annoyance.
“Hi,” I manage to force out, turning back to face her fully. My throat constricts as I swallow my nerves and wet my lips. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time to discuss admissions.”
No sense in trying to escape unnoticed now.
“I told those boys the same thing I’ll tell you,” she mutters, giving her attention back to shoving a stack of folders into a crooked pile, “this office is closed and all decisions are final at this point, with the school year starting in two weeks.”
“I, uhm, haven’t applied,” I admit, stepping fully into her office now. Her warm brown eyes shift back to me with a furrow to her brow. I force my hands from my satchel strap to my sides, trying my best to not fidget.
Her eyes narrow and her mouth pulls into a pinched line. “So then what is it you want exactly?”
The excitement that carried me here fizzles a little under her stare. My voice catches in my throat, already anticipating her answer, but I force it out anyways. “I wanted to ask if you ever accept late applicants? I was hoping to start this fall.”
My spine straightens and I hold her silent stare.
She barks out a laugh without humor moments later, already moving to close her laptop. “The deadline was a month ago. You can check our website for spring applications. Goodnight.”
The chair creaks as she stands, already reaching for her bag. Panic jolts through me, sharp and electric. This can’t be the end. Not when I’m so close.
