“Go back to sleep,” I told her with a tender smile. “No one likes Mondays, and we need our beauty sleep.”
I was already awake when my alarm blared through the room, never having gone back to sleep after the nightmare. Too many thoughts wound through my head to allow me to shut my eyes and relax.
Not only did having another dream worry me, but so did the anxiety of seeing Enzo. He had been MIA all weekend, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about him the entire time.
I hadso many questions.
Like now that I was his Fawn, what the hell did that mean?
I swallowed as his words infiltrated my mind.“Be good. I have eyes everywhere.”
This place felt lonely without him.
Over the weekend, I couldn’t stop myself from visiting his wing several times. I’d eyed that locked gate while wondering if he was on the other side in his room. Wondered if he was thinking of me or with another girl.
My jaw had tightened whenever I thought about the latter. My tension should’ve eased because that meant his attention couldn’t be on me.
I pulled myself out of bed and showered, brainstorming as the water fell down my body on how I’d get a new phone and laptop. I doubted my mother and stepfather knew I was without a phone, since I got more calls about my yearly Pap smear reminder than I did from them.
When I left the bathroom, dressed in mynewuniform—aka Enzo’s shirt—Daphne stared up at me brightly. “I like the new look.”
The shirt was too large, so I had to knot the loose fabric with a hair tie and tucked it under my skirt. I was also wearing the necklace he’d given me.
“Let’s hope Arisono doesn’t give me a third strike for it,” I replied.
“Blair, you’re about to be a Fawn. What Arisono thinks now is irrelevant.” She scoffed. “If we’re being honest, you’ll behersuperior. Fawns are pretty much exempt from university rules as well. They just have to follow the Sons’ rules.”
On our walk downstairs, Daphne rambled on about being pissed off at a professor. We split and went our separate ways, and when I got to American Gothic Lit, I took the same desk as before.
So far, no Enzo.
His friend sat beside me again, and I turned my back to him.
I was almost positive he’d taken a picture of me with his phone on Friday to show Enzo my outfit.Asshole.
Professor Nelson entered the room as other students began filing inside. To get my mind off Enzo, I started drawing in my notebook.
Drawing, notwritinglines.
The moment Enzo walked in, I looked up. My pen stalled against the paper, mid-heart drawing.
It was as if my soul recognized his presence now.
Not that there was any love between us. Most definitely not.
I loathed Enzo Marchetti.
Everyone watched him cross the lecture hall and climb the steps toward me. They waited in anticipation for whatever cruel spectacle he’d put on today.
Our black shirts matched, though his clung perfectly to the lines of his hard chest, the fabric fitted like it’d been tailored to show off his every muscle. He paired it with black pants and black boots. A black bag I’d never seen him with was slung over his shoulder.
He reached our row and ran a hand across his jaw. My eyes zeroed in on his gold ring. As if they were connected, on instinct, I dragged a hand over my necklace pendant.
When our eyes met, he winked at me.
His steps were slow as he walked to my desk. My pulse stuttered as I readied myself for whatever humiliation he had planned this time.
Instead, he reached into his bag and quietly placed a brand-new MacBook and phone on my desk. He tapped the edge of my desk and dropped into the seat beside me.
