It still bugs me that he basically went door to door to find out where I lived to return a binder. And his vibe is all off. Something in the way he speaks or carries himself…
I just…don't like him. And I know there isn't one iota of empathy in him for my situation.
"At least there's still time to recover before the end of term," he quips, and I tear open the bar with my teeth and take a big bite as I continue toward the side exit.
"Awe, don't be so bitter. It's one essay."
Is he really following us?
"Tell you what, I know what would make you feel better. Alpha Sigma Phi is hosting its annual Monster Smash on Halloween. Say you'll come."
Fuck no.
"Oh!" Maisie claps her hands. "We're totally in."
I give her a sharp look, and she pouts.
"You promised me you would come to the next party with me," she reminds me, and I roll my eyes.
Taking another oversized bite of my chocolate bar, I speak around the mouthful to Bailey, not caring that my teeth are probably stained brown. "Fine. We'll go. Happy?"
He grins smugly.
"Elated," he says with a flicker of excitement passing over his face that I really don't like the look of. Then he indicates the last bite of my chocolate bar. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Thanks," I say with a deadpan stare, and he laughs it off as he walks away.
"I think he's into you," Maisie says in a high-pitched tone when he's out of earshot. "You should ask him out."
I almost choke on my chocolate. No fucking way. That guy has Jesse vibes. I shudder.
"I'd rather be shot."
Maisie laughs, swatting my arm. "You're so funny, Aurora."
She has no idea how serious I am.
The grade from my essay landed in my email inbox with an accompanying note from Professor Ryan right after Ellie's evening walk.
And just like I thought, he gave me an absolutely abysmal grade. The condescending note is the cherry on the pie.
For someone who portends a desire to work in this industry, you certainly seem to have little respect for its roots.
"Okay, you fucking dinosaur." I close the email before I write a reply that will absolutely get me kicked from the class, and feel only moderately better when I see that it's two minutes to seven o'clock. My second scheduled call of the day with the guys.
Still steaming with rage, I grab the burner phone and set up the silencing device in the bathroom like Atticus showed me, turning on the shower instead of the tap as the added precautionary measure because I do actually need a shower.
I strip off all my clothes in record time and prop my phone on the soap ledge, setting up the call before I get my hands too wet.
Atticus picks up on the second ring. "Hello?"
"Oh, it's you."
They left Sunday morning, and all three times I've called since, it's been Elijah or Seven who picked up.
"Sorry, the others are busy."
I bite the inside of my cheek, still not sure how I feel about him trying to give me the space I fucking asked for. "Tell me you guys are having a better day than I am."
