Page 29 of Massacre Monday

Problem is, my first class is located all the way across campus in Page Hall. If I had time to enjoy the beautiful gothic architecture, today is not that day. Instead, I push through crowds of students milling outside Cardell Library, and sling my bag over my shoulder while dashing toward the quad. My phone buzzes.

Oz

Last night go okay? No one messed with you right?

Shit. What do I even tell him?

If Oz sees the video of mebeggingfor Ryan’s cock or the pictures he just posted…it’ll ruin everything. Ryan’s made it all look like I wanted this. I could ask him for help, yes. But I need to think about this. If they hurt aCardell, things could get complicated. In my mind, I envision two warring families taking each other’s sons until there’s none of us left. I can handle this on my own. For now.

Me

I’m fine. U?

Oz

Theta won. Fucking pricks. Nico says hi.

Me

Ok

Nico? Nicowho? After the rush from the event and this morning, I’d almost forgotten he existed.

Once I make it to the heavy mahogany doors and grasp the brass handle, I slow down enough to gather some air. Criminology with Professor Amanda Hall is on the second floor, and I take the quartz stone stairs two at a time, knowing I’m going to be ten minutes late. This class is junior level, and I asked for special permission to take it early due to its popularity.

The hall is cleared of students when I reach the door and take a peek inside through the vertical window. Mitch glances around behind him, then points toward an empty seat he must’ve saved next to him near the middle. His head jerks to the side, encouraging me to enter, so I sneak in as deftly as possible.

Professor Hall continues talking while I scoot through a few students and plop next to Mitch. He leans over and whispers, “’Bout time you got here. She doesn’t like when people are late.”

“I know. I tried to make it on time, but got hung up.” Grumbling to myself, I think about Ryan. It wasn’t my fault.

As I finish my sentence, I realize the entire room has grown completely silent. When I face the front, Professor Hall stands still, with her arms crossed, looking straight at me, along with all two hundred other students turning in their desks to stare at me, too.

Her light brown bob waves as she tilts her head, narrowing her eyes behind her black-framed glasses. “So…not onlylate, but you’re alsotalkingwhile I’m trying to lecture. What’s your name?”

My throat feels like it’s being squeezed closed and infernos of embarrassment light up my cheeks. “Pippi Freidenb?—”

“Oh, yes. Pippi Freidenberg.” She spits it out like a curse. “Since you’ve distracted everyone in here from what’s important, how about you leave and spend your father’s money elsewhere today? We all want to learn.”

Fury makes folds in my forehead, and I open my mouth to protest, but my voice is soft and weak. “I want to learn.”

“Next class, arrive on time and refrain from talking, or you won’t be welcomed back. Goodbye.”

Stunned, I sit in a frozen state until Mitch taps my knee with his and gives me some wide eyes. Students ogle me but, fortunately, the professor calls their attention back to her.

Like the dancer I am, I stand gracefully while holding my chin up, slide my bag over my shoulder, and weasel my way out, blinking back heated tears. No one can see me cry.

With a stumble, I let go of my stone facade and make it to the women’s restroom on the same floor. Arms braced on either side of a sink, I force my lungs to expand so I won’t explode with frustration and shame. When my gaze crawls to my mottled face reflected in the mirror, all of those feelings turn to anger toward the man whomademe late.

RyanfuckingCardell.

Speaking of the devil himself, I pull out my phone and delete every image he’d posted to my Pixtagram, change my password, and untag myself from his photos, then block him. I’ll have to have my cousin Valen, Valencia’s brother, make sure he didn’t hack my device.

A text message comes through from Mitch.

Mitch

Wait for me. Let’s grab a drink at the quad cafe.