The room’s empty. Bed made, desk clear, closet door gaping open and full of fucking plaid.
Something ugly stirs in my chest. Not anger. Not yet. Panic– cold and unwelcome– echoing off an image I don’t want to revisit.
Ava on her knees, wide-eyed and hopeful. The way her face collapsed when I told her she was nothing. When I shoved her aside like trash and she hit the floor, curling in on herself.
I should feel victorious, but the more I replay it, the heavier it sits in my gut.
With a sharp grunt, I pivot and stride back into hall, calling out, “She’s gone.”
“Probably left early,” Wes says as I re-enter the kitchen, shrugging it off.
Ford narrows his eyes, lips flattening. “She knows the rules. She doesn’t leave without one of us.”
“Maybe she needs a leash to go with that collar,” I snap, a crackle of anxiety spiking along my skin.
Ford snorts. “That could be fun.”
Wes hops off the counter, rolling his eyes. “Relax, she couldn’t have gone far. Probably wanted coffee, seeing as we’re out.”
“Since when?” I scoff.
Wes shoots Ford a look. “Someonefinished it off and forgot to add it to the list.”
Ford just shrugs. “I was busy with our girl.”
“Don’t call her that,” I snarl, pacing toward the fridge and throwing it open, grabbing a protein shake. I knock it back in two gulps and wipe my mouth with my forearm, jaw clenched.
Ford pushes to his feet with a sigh. “So are we going, or what?”
I cut him a glare, then grab my backpack, slinging it over a shoulder and heading for the door. The others fall in behind me, our footsteps echoing down the stairwell.
The quad is a gray expanse of slush and dead grass, students huddled under umbrellas or making tight beelines from building to building, heads down against the frigid wind. I scan the crowd, searching for chestnut hair, the familiar shape of her body, a flash of plaid and bare legs.
Nothing.
We stop at the central fork in the path. Wes comes up beside me, hands jammed deep in his pockets. “I’m sure she’s in class,” he mumbles. “I’ll text you guys.”
I just grunt in response.
We split off, each heading our separate ways. I stalk toward the science building, every muscle in my body thrumming with the need to hit something. The lecture hall is half full when I slip in and take a seat in the back, dropping my bag to the floor with a dull thud.
I shouldn’t be thinking about Ava. The way she looked at me the other night– like she could see straight through the monster to the hollow nothingness underneath. The way she didn’t even fight back, like I’d finally broken her.
My phone vibrates. Group chat.
Wes
Not in stats.
Ford
Think she’s holed up somewhere with that loser Bryce?
Wes
Or she finally got a clue and ran for the hills.
Ford
