But he could’ve been talking about anything. Anyone.
I should march this box downstairs and dump it in the trash. Better yet, find a hammer and smash the phone to pieces, cut the credit card into confetti, set the note on fire and spit on the ashes.
Instead, I just stare at the phone, turning it over in my hands. It’s the latest model, sleek and black, probably worth more than everything I own combined.
The credit card gleams under the bedroom light, my name embossed in raised letters.
Haven Lee
Like I’m a real person. Like I belong somewhere.
The peanut butter cups feel like a taunt. He remembered how much I loved them. Something that should have been an insignificant detail. But nothing about Bastian Rooke isinsignificant. Everything is calculated, deliberate, designed to burrow under my skin. And he’s always reminding me just how many steps ahead he is.
I toss the phone onto the bed and pace the room, trying to think through the white noise in my head.
Obviously, I could use a phone. Dad smashed mine beyond repair. I’m surprised my SIM card survived.
I definitely need money. Bobby showing up was a stark reminder that I’m completely fucked if I lose my scholarship. And given my current academic performance, that’s a very real possibility.
A predicament I wouldn’t be in if Bastian hadn’t so thoughtfully quit my job at the diner on my behalf.
I went to see Milo yesterday. He seemed surprised to see me, but he was happy to offer me the weekend position if I wanted it. Pay wasn’t close to anything I made at the diner, but the hours were much less, too.
I’m starting this Saturday…and trying not to get freaked out whenever I think about it. My paranoia has reached an all time high. The whole time I was with Milo, I kept feeling like I was being judged by invisible eyes. It didn’t help that he was flirting with me again.
Didn’t help that I caught myself flirting back.
Maybe I am a closet slut.
Fuck knows I don’t need more complications in my life. Question is, which would be less complicated? Telling Milo I’d reconsidered, or accepting Bastian’s credit card?
The shiny black card taunts me from the bed, catching the light when I turn. I pick it up and head over to the window to study it. It’s been raining on and off most of the day, the gray skies muddying the pages I’m trying to read, but I was taught to keep the lights off during the day.
With Milo’s job, I should be able to afford some basic necessities.
But with Bastian’s card I could get some essentials, and pay for a motel room if GAZ kicks me out. After the thing with my dad, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. I could even sell the phone for cash if I needed to.
And why shouldn’t I, after what my professor’s done? If he’s not going to apologize, not going to fucking repent, then why not make him pay some other way? I can’t eat apologies. Can’t put them in my gas tank.
But that shiny credit card…
Movement outside the window catches my eye. I push back the lace curtain to see a familiar figure trudging down the street.
Kai.
His head is down, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of the world. His hair is hanging over his forehead, but I know it’s him from the way he walks.
As if he can feel my eyes on him, Kai looks up.
Right at me.
I fall back from the window, my chest tight with shock at the furious glare Kai’s face pulled into when he spotted me.
Just my luck.
The phone sits on the bed, innocent and sinister, all at once.
I shouldn’t.
