A half laugh, half sob slips out. Bastian sent me a lullaby…right after threatening my boyfriend without saying a single word.
I lock my phone and shove it in my pocket before I do something stupid.
Like replying.
Like thanking him.
…Like telling him how wet it makes me that he’d hurt someone for me, despite how vicious and wrong and fucked up it is.
Fuck, what’s wrong with me? I throw my head back and stare at the slowly churning sky.
It’s all in my head. That poem was Bastian’s way of comforting me. He’s not going to punish my boyfriend. Maybe he’ll pull Kai aside the next time he sees him, or send him some nasty DMs, but all he said was ‘I know.’
That’s not a threat.
So why can’t I shake the feeling that Kai’s in danger?
I try Kai’s phone again, but it goes to voicemail again.
It’s cold out, but not unbearable, especially with my cup of coffee to warm me up. The kind of crisp that wakes you up, makes everything sharp and clear.
There’s only a handful of people out here. Some students on a picnic blanket with textbooks spread out. Some guy doing tai chi or yoga near the footpath leading to a different area of the gardens.
And three girls from the GAZ sorority, only one of whom I recognize…and too late.
Abigail.
She’s sitting on a bench with her sisters, all of them in matching Agony Hollow hoodies and leggings and beanies, looking like an ad for the college’s fall catalogue.
She sees me and waves.
Mockingly.
I make a point of turning away, heading for a bench on the opposite side of the garden, closer to the woods.
When I glance back, Abigail is glaring at me.
Yeah, fuck you, bitch.
I sit down and try to ignore her as I sip my coffee. My phone is in my other hand, no new messages appearing, despite how many times I refresh.
Where the fuck are you, Kai?
Midterms start Monday.
The thought surfaces unbidden and most unwelcome. I should be working on my essay. Should be cramming Piaget and Freud and whatever other dead white guys Bastian deems essential to understanding the human psyche.
But I can’t focus. Can’t think past Kai and his silence and the fight and the message I sent?—
My stomach drops.
Fuck.
I still haven’t heard from the dean. Which means…I’ll have to go back to Bastian’s class.
Because let’s be honest—what are the chances Bastian agrees to let me off the hook? That would mean he’s a reasonable person and not a predator who gives me a secret phone and funds most of my scholarship and makes me feel things I shouldn’t feel.
I have to keep my grades up. Have to pass his class.
