“Ladies!” the other officer shouts.
It’s enough to get everyone’s attention.
He takes a deep breath before he continues. “I’m going to write up a report. If Miss Maxwell would like a ride to the hospital—”
“No,” I say instantly, shaking my head too hard. It hurts, yes, but there’s no way I can afford a visit to the emergency room. “I’ll go to the University Health Center later today.” It’ll get me through the weekend. Good thing, because I’ve got to work all day at Cy’s tomorrow. It’ll be my first day working on a football game day.
“Miss Maxwell?” asks Officer Golden. It’s a perfect name for him. He’s blond and tan and, well, he reminds me of Cooke, if Cooke were the boy next door rather than a badass rugby star. “Miss Maxwell?”
“Oh.” I giggle. “Sorry.”
“Will you be pressing charges against Miss Becker?”
“What!” the she-devil screeches from across the room.
She stands up and begins to move toward me at a fast clip until the other cop steps in front of her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, miss.”
“B-But—”
Part of me would love to press charges, but I have a feeling I’ll need a lawyer and lots of time to deal with that when all she’ll get is a slap on the wrist. Okay, I know none of that for sure. I’m basing that solely on my binge-watching of police procedural shows. “No. I’d just like her to stay away from me.”
“You’ll need to seek a civil protection order, then. We can help you get that started,” says Officer Golden softly.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Kara spits. “It was an accident.”
I look up at the blond policeman, then over to Patsy, but she’s on her phone. I scan the rest of my roommates, but I can’t read their expressions other than they’re a combination of pissed and worried. Well, except for Lindsay. She’s got tears in her eyes. This whole thing is upsetting everyone.
I shake my head. “No. That’s okay.”
He looks surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. As evenly as possible, I add, “I think she was just overzealous. She reacted without thinking in the heat of the moment.” Heat she created herself, but whatever.
Officer Golden hands me his card. Before I take it, he flips the card over and jots something down. “My personal cell number is on the back if you change your mind, or if you just need to talk.”
Grasping the card, I pull it from his fingers. “All right. Thank you.” When I look up, he’s smiling at me. It’s not a big smile, but it’s warm and kind. “Thanks,” I say again and give him a smile of my own.
Just before he turns to leave, he leans down and quietly says, “Be careful, Quinn. And go to the clinic today, yeah?”
I nod and whisper, “Yeah.”
Patting my shoulder, he moves toward our front door, the other officer following.
When they’re both gone, that’s when the yelling begins. It starts with Patsy. “I think you need to leave, Kara.”
Her reply? A smug “I know. I’m late for class.”
I look at my phone for the time. Shit. I missed ceramics, and if I don’t get a move on, I’ll miss art history.
As I begin to stand, Patsy adds, “And don’t come back.”
Uh-oh.
“What!” Kara shouts. “Why?” That time it was more of a loud whine.
“You can’t be seriously asking me that.” Patsy has her hands on her hips and her feet in a wide stance. She’s ready for a face-off.
Kara points at me. “She started it.”
