“You know, I also signed up to be in Greek life at Northview, knowing that I’d get an appointed I may not have chosen. But I want to make this work with you.”
A tear burns at the corner of my eye. I instantly regret treating him poorly this morning, but I’m too embarrassed to know what to say.
During my hot shower, I scrub off all the clown make-up Evie caked on my skin, then change intonormalclothes from my bag. MyOmegasweatshirt and jeans. When I return to the bedroom, there’s a knot in my stomach.
But Apollo’s not in the bed. My shoulders relax because, despite taking my time, I didn’t come up with a way to apologize.
A ruckus of deep voices murmurs through the double doors, and I tense up once again. Wheeling my small suitcase to the living room, I freeze when I open the door.
Apollo’s still in his boxer briefs, but his three brothers laze about the kitchen area. Including Nico. They all stop and look up as I enter as if they were just talking about me.
“Hey, Scoutie!” Leo says with a shy smile. Nico gives me a nod. Atlas turns toward the fridge and grabs a drink.
“Hey.”
Apollo takes a bite of something that looks like roomservice under a silver tray. “They sent us breakfast, if you want some before studying.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
I scamper across the room, feeling every bit of the awkward tension in the air.
Apollo jumps up before I can reach the door and strides over to me. He thrusts a white envelope into my hand.
“Here. It’s the spare key to our apartment. Number one twelve. My brothers are going to help me grab some of my things to take over. Is there anything we can get fromOmegaHouse for you?”
Humility splashes across my face until I pale like I’ve been dunked in ice water. He’s so fuckingnice. What am I supposed to do with that?
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’ll have to deal with my stuff over the weekend. But I got it.”
Sheepishly, he ducks his head and lowers his voice. “You’ll, uh, be at the library?”
And just like that, the guilt curdles into rage. Now he wants to keep tabs on my whereabouts.
“Yep. Library. Have a nice day. Thanks for everything.” I pat his firm chest and leave.
I lied again.
Tucking the key to my new apartment into my suitcase, I forget it as I venture toward my room after taking a rideshare to campus. I don’t have plans to pack up. I livehere.
Apollo snores. And, really, is itnecessaryfor me to move?I’m anOmegasister, and this is my home. Where all my stuff is.
It’s also getting on in the semester, and I don’t have time to be switching locations. What if the new bed is rickety and stiff? I won’t sleep, and then I won’t get good grades.
Plus, Sorority Row is close to both the library and the best food trucks. I’d have to walk an extra mile from the married apartments just to get there.
So, I unpack. And try not to look at the bare, empty space across from my bed. The one that used to belong to Ellis. Before the familiar hollow feeling invades my chest—the one where it feels like I’m eternallymissingsomething and can’t find it—I head back out with my backpack and books in tow.
After a coffee, I scope out my favorite sneaky spot on the top floor of the library’s reference section. I settle in, take a deep breath of the leather-scented air, and then relax.
This is where I’m most at home.
Between dusty tomes and mahogany wood.
Most people study on the updated floors below in the open areas at the modern tables with all the windows. Not me. It’s either the creepy basement with dim lights or the top floor where no one visits, except clandestine lovers. The old metal desks with tall sides built like cubicles line an abandoned room. A few other pre-meds or engineering students end up here occasionally. Otherwise, it’s quiet.
I crack open my poetry book for Ritual Language and the Poetics of the Sacred Body. The class I’mleastinterested in. And, of course, one of the humanities required by the university.
Several times, I accidentally lean around the divider totell Ellis how bored I am. And my heart aches every time I do.
