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Chapter Two

Ashland

I’ve spent my life being late. When I was born I was late. It was pretty fucking late when I realized my life was shit. I always speak my thoughts, and by the time my rational brain catches up, it’s too late. I’m late to every party, every outing, and even to every class. The only thing I’ve ever been early for was losing my virginity, and that’s not something to brag about.

I always wonder what the fuck everyone else is running toward. It’s not like any of it matters in the scope of things. Adhering to time takes away from the spontaneity of life. I know I have to be somewhere, but if I happen to get there late? Who cares. Time is a construct perpetuated by people who want control of your life. Schedules are so ingrained into our existence that we don’t even notice it. We tell people who won’t follow the ‘rule’ that they’re a problem. It’s not that I don’t understand shit needs time frames, but if I’m late by twenty minutes what does it really matter?

I wake up and immediately know I’m not in my own bed. I can smell sweat, socks, and overpowering cologne. The sound of shouts downstairs are what roused me. I crack open my eyes and look around to get my bearings. I’m definitely still a little drunk. The door to what looks like a closet is open, and I hear a shower running. Fuck.

I don’t bother trying to recall what happened last night. I slide out of the messy bed with a blue and white plaid comforter. Ugh. There’s so much dirty laundry everywhere that I’m having a hard time discerning what are my clothes and what are mystery douche’s. Looks like we have the same taste. Typical.

I throw on a shirt. Not mine. I yank it off and try another. By the third one I’ve given it up and accepted the Steve Miller Band shirt. Dude probably hasn’t listened to him in his entire life. Consider it a gift, sir, for my services. I find my shorts and trip trying to escape. I dig through shit quickly trying to find my phone to no avail. Typical.

The shower stops, freezing me in place. No, no, no, no . The guy comes out looking like he’s ready for round two. I know for a fact that I didn’t orgasm, and I’m not going to put myself through that again.

“So you’re up?” He holds the towel at his waist, ready to drop it.

“Do you know where my phone is?” I bat my lashes as if I give a fuck.

He tucks the towel, a little disappointed. “Uh, over there.” He points to the side table.

I snatch it and try to look at the time, but it’s dead. Fuck. It’s literally my first Ancient Culture and Literature class of the semester. I like to start Thirsty Thursdays early, which is exactly what landed me here.

“Shit." I fumble, looking for the door wildly. “Where am I?”

“You don’t remember?” He stands up straight, looking worried.

I wave my hand in the air, dismissing him. “I was consenting. Don’t worry about it. Where?”

“Sig Ep.” There's a proud twinkle in his eye masked by annoyance. As if I give a fuck about what loser clan he comes from.

“Cool.” I shove my boots on.

“Let’s exchange numbers. Maybe we can do this again.”

“Sorry.” I shake my phone in the air. “I don’t have unlimited. Nice to meet you, Seth.”

“Nope. Not my name. Is that my shirt?” His face is turning red with irritation.

“Timothy?”

“Teddy,” he says crisply, glaring at me.

“Right. Chance. This was less than satisfying.” I wave over him. Before he can actually get angry, I dart out of the room.

I sprint down the hallway, running my fingers through my hair. I pass a bathroom and backtrack. Studying myself in the mirror, I grab a hairbrush that was probably left behind by some other poor unfortunate girl and try to brush through the mess. When the knots don’t relent, I toss it up into a bun and call it a day. Some guy walks in on me, and the utter confusion on his face is worth it.

I almost fall down the stairs and run out of the front door. The sun burns my eyes. I reach into my pocket, praying there is somehow a pair of sunglasses. There is, but they aren’t mine. I shrug and put them on, full out running toward my house. I body slam into a massive form that knocks me to the ground.

“Watch where you’re going on your walk of shame, slut.” The guys says, yanking me up and running off. Fucking asshole.

“Fuck you!” I shout after him. “Only jackasses are up running this early in the morning!”

“It’s eleven!” he shouts without looking back, holding up his middle finger.

For a second, I consider chasing him down and tackling him, but the time he said registers. I have fifteen minutes to get my shit and make it across campus. I huff, giving his back a series of vulgar gestures and run in the opposite direction. The house is dark when I get inside, sweating from the exertion. I throw open the door, gasping for air, and run into the bathroom. I brush my teeth in record time, scrubbing away whatever asshole’s tongue was in my mouth. I find my backpack on the kitchen barstool and shove my laptop in. On the counter is a note and a fresh muffin with a portable charger. God, I love Penny.

Soak up the alcohol. See you at The Roost after class if you’re alive. If you’re murdered please haunt me so I can find whatever asshole did it.

There’s a big heart and Penny’s name after it. I snatch the muffin and contemplate my life choices before grabbing my long board next to the door and rushing out. I feel like death. Maybe I should stop partying on weekdays. I didn't think I drank that much, but that seems to be the consensus lately.

My legs are already burning from the involuntary run I did. When I get into the building, the clock on the wall tells me I'm two minutes late. People are starting to file in, and I thank the Universe for having mercy on me. I may not believe in time but I believe in the Universe, and today I accept that it’s on my side. The professor isn’t even here when I get into the classroom. I’m able to pick a seat directly in the middle of the room. It’s not a big class since it’s geared more toward my major.

We all spread out following the unspoken rule to leave space between each other. The know-it-alls that want to suck the professor’s dick sit up front. Then it’s the people who want the professor to know they’re paying attention. I’m behind them, still paying attention but able to get away with multi-tasking. Behind me are the people who scroll through social media and panic at midterms, buying notes off of the kids right in front of me.

I pull out my laptop and a piece of paper from my sketchbook, hiding it behind my keyboard with my charcoal pencil. Charcoal isn't really my medium of choice anymore. Recently, I’ve found myself itching to use it. When I’m stressed, I can’t help it. It keeps my hands busy while I disassociate. I’m already outlining my latest bullshit sketch when the professor walks in. He’s setting up when I feel a presence next to me.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Ashland Bradshaw in the flesh and blood." The voice is followed by the light scent of fancy cologne.

I shove the sketch under my laptop, trying to figure out who the voice belongs to. I’ve been pretty careful not to hook up with guys in the liberal arts college, but I’m not fucking perfect. I’ve been blackout plenty. Who knows what I’ve gotten into in those time frames. Instead of turning and saying hi, I choose to pretend I didn’t hear a word. Whoever it is sits next to me. Directly next to me. The fucking gall. In my peripheral vision I catch them unloading their shit onto the table, as if we've been in every class together since grade school. I finally turn to them, ready to tell them to fuck off. I’m surprised at the familiar conceited aura encroaching on me.

“A…” I focus, trying to name the face. “Allen?”

He bursts out laughing. “Damn. I’ve never been forgotten in my life. Alexi. From Sunny’s?”

I stare at him blankly. Why the fuck is he sitting next to me?

“Looks like luck is on my side.” He gives me that sly grin. I want to slap it off of his pretty fucking face.

“Terrible to see you. Now sit somewhere else,” I growl.

“Woah, why the animosity? I didn’t think I made that bad of an impression.” He opens his laptop. I have half a mind to shove it to the floor, but that would be too impulsive. Guess my brain isn’t too late on this one. Instead, I shut it and slide it two seats down. He gives me an amused look and pulls it back in front of him.

“Are you serious?”

“Someone had a bad morning,” he grins.

“Move. Away.” I shove his laptop again, getting angrier by the second.

“Oh, I’m much too invested in this to back down now.”

I glare. “Do you have a problem taking social cues?”

The professor chooses that moment to interrupt. “Ashland Bradshaw?”

“Here,” I grumble.

“Alexi Daemon?” the professor calls out.

Alexi raises his hand like a kindergartener. “Here.”

“Looking forward to seeing what you do this season, Mr. Daemon.”

“Hey, me too." Alexi laughs. The rest of the class laughs with him while I wonder how hard it would be to bash my face in.

The professor moves down the list. Alexi settles into his seat, satisfied with himself. I stare straight ahead trying to find a way to make this torture end. I can’t drop this class or I’ll be behind. I could go out of my way to make Alexi hate me, but that clearly won’t fare well since the professor seems to be familiar with him. My only option is to ignore him and guarantee he can’t sit next to me for the rest of the semester.

As class starts, I’m hyper-aware of Alexi’s presence next to me. I try to ignore it by pulling out my sketch and continuing to work.

“What’s that?” Alexi whispers, dragging my paper toward him. The charcoal smears across the page. I’m fucking enraged. I barely even let Penny see my sketches.

I snatch it back. “You don’t just take people’s shit."

“Is there a problem, Ms. Bradshaw?” The professor asks. All eyes are on me.

“I just spilled some water on the table,” Alexi lies, saving me. “Clumsy everywhere but the field.” Everyone accepts his answer immediately and turns back to the front. I don’t know what he's aiming for, but he’s setting me off.

“Just give it back,” I hiss.

He stays silent, handing it over. For the rest of the class he doesn’t bother me. I’m surprised that he actually takes notes. I stay leaned over my paper, erratically drawing until my hands are covered in charcoal.

“Does anyone know why the Quechuan language almost became extinct?” The professor asks. Everyone stares at each other.

“Ms. Bradshaw. You look extremely invested. Do you know the answer?”

I don’t bother looking up. “Because the Christians came and tried to convert the indigenous people, forcing them to speak a Christian version of their own language in order to incorporate 'God' and make them less ‘heathen’. This led to them pushing Spanish onto the natives until they assimilated.”

It’s silent long enough for me to look up. Everyone is staring at me. The professor looks surprised. “Very good, Ms. Bradshaw. A little honest, but correct.”

“I don’t think sugar coating the oppression of indigenous peoples and their cultures will assist in recovering what they’ve lost, but yeah. Honest.”

Alexi coughs to cover up a laugh at my response. The professor smiles and then directs attention back to the history of the Spanish invasion of South America. The rest of class bores me with shit everyone could have easily already learned if they read the first five chapters of the textbook or even google searched and read one article. I’m just glad when the class is fucking over. I dart out of the door the second we’re released.

I toss my long board onto the sidewalk, ignoring the signs that say no boarding, and head in the direction of the coffee shop Cole works at. I need fucking caffeine and a burrito.

“Hey! Ashland!” Alexi tries to get my attention, sprinting toward me.

I give him an exasperated huff. “Fucking hell. What do you want? Was I not clear?” I try to make the board go faster, and he jogs next to me. He’s quick. It doesn’t even seem like he’s exerting any energy. I slow down, accepting my fate.

“I was gonna offer you my notes when I thought you weren’t paying attention, but now I’m wondering if I could have yours.”

“You were right there. You know I wasn’t taking notes.” I cast him a ‘get the fuck away from me’ side glance, but he doesn’t take the hint; he blatantly ignores it.

“I noticed,” he chuckles. “I was thinking we could be study partners.”

I stop in my tracks. “What on earth could possibly make this interaction end?”

“Agreeing to help me with this homework.”

“No." I push off of the ground, heading across the quad. The coffee shop is in sight. He follows me, of course. “Why are you still here?” I demand.

“Running you to your next class.” He shrugs, staring straight ahead. I don’t know what god I pissed off to take me to this new circle of hell, but I am not in the fucking mood.

“I don’t have anymore classes.”

“Even better. Neither do I.” He flashes a grin. “I’m gonna bother you until you finally find me charming.”

“Listen, Alexi.” I kick my board up, stopping a few feet from the patio. “I’m sure you’re the most charming boy on campus, but I’m not interested.”

“What about being friends?” he suggests.

I glare up at him. “I don’t think we have anything in common.”

“Is this where you were going?” He nods at the coffee shop.

“Yes. Goodbye.” I turn away and head inside as he says something about having a good rest of my day. Bleh. Glad to be fucking rid of him, I find Penny. She’s got a pencil in between her lips, chewing on the end of it in full focus mode.

“What’s got you in a mood?” she asks, not looking up from whatever she’s doing.

I sink into my seat. “Asshole."

“Typical.” Penny marks a few things on the sketch pad. I pull mine out with my charcoal and start sketching again. She glances up over whatever she’s working on and sets it aside. When she leans forward on the table I know she’s about to ask me questions I don’t want her to.

“You’ve been charcoaling again,” she states.

“It’s not a big deal,” I groan. I know exactly what she’s getting at.

“Ash, you know you can talk to me, right?”

I throw my head back on the chair. “I’m just stressed, okay? Am I allowed to be stressed?”

“Yes,” she says slowly. “But you’ve—"

“Hello, ladies,” Cole interrupts, setting two plates in front of us. “You look hungover, Ash.”

“She had a fun night,” Penny giggles.

Cole looks disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything. I shove my sunglasses back on my face and stick my tongue out at her. “You’re my hero, Cole.”

He brightens. “Any time.”

“Cole!” The manager shouts. “Stop flirting. There’s a line.”

“Right. I’ll see you both tonight for the happy hour?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, I’m sure Ash has one more blackout in her for the week,” Penny snickers.

“Cole!” The manager shouts. He hurries off back behind the counter.

I slurp down the coffee to annoy Penny and glare at her.

“That’s not your shirt." She sips at her coffee.

I smile. “It was a gift."

With an eye roll she picks her sketchbook back up. “You lost my shirt, didn’t you?”

“I may have misplaced it.”

“Which frat?”

I narrow my eyes. “Sig Ep.”

“You better sleep with someone else there and get it back.”

“Did you just slut shame me?” I say dramatically, pressing my hand into my chest.

“You’d have to be ashamed for that.” She draws something and holds it away from her face, inspecting it. “You’re on cunt probation for losing my shirt.”

“First of all, it’s our shirt. Second of all, I’ll give you the glittery gold one you like,” I offer.

“Fine. And you put ten bucks in the Cunt Jar.”

“Oh my God.” I rub my hands over my eyes. “Five?”

“Fifteen,” she argues.

“Geez.” I raise my hands defensively. “I’m living off of student loans.”

She looks up at me over the paper. “You could be a full time tattoo artist if you'd accept the shop's offer. You could be sticking needles into people other than yourself. You’d be rich and world renowned in no time. I gotta beef up my bank account before you forget me to go tattoo in Japan and start dating some South Korean rapper.”

“I’m not tattooing in Japan.” I slump in my chair. “And date is such a harsh word.”

When I was younger, I taught myself to tattoo. It was cathartic to feel the pain and be in control of it. I did my first one when I was eleven. I glance at the small swirling black and white circle tucked between a sea of tattoos on my wrist. I still had a lot of visible skin when we came to college, but over the last three years, between me and tattoo artists at the only shop near campus, I've become a canvas. I don't tattoo others unless I'm really drunk and manic. Or I like them a lot. Penny is still convinced that I’m going to pick it back up and do celebrity worthy tattoos. My work is Holiday Inn on its best day.

“You’re so hard headed,” she sighs. “So, you had your first ancient culture class today, right? I assume you made it?”

I pull out the portable charger and my phone, plugging it in. “Barely. I ran for my life to get there.” I blow out air.

“How did it go? I know you were looking forward to it.”

I bite my tongue, remembering Alexi Daemon. “There’s a rule when you sit in lectures, right? If there’s space you sit at least one person away?”

“Let me guess.” She puts the sketch down and sets her elbows onto the table. “This has to do with the asshole you referenced earlier?”

“Yes.” I pick at the vinyl surface where it’s peeling away. “He sat right fucking next to me and refused to move. Who does that?”

“Is he cute?” I bite my cheek, staying silent. “So he’s cute,” she grins. “He probably thinks you’re hot.”

“He followed me all the way here.”

“Stalkers are hot,” she points out.

“It’s not stalking if you don’t shut the fuck up. The guy has never been rejected in his life.”

“Maybe he just wants to be your friend.” She always tries to be positive.

“I have friends. Their names are Penny and Cole. Roster? Filled.”

She giggles. “Then how are you going to keep him away?”

“I have a plan. I’m going to put spikes in his fucking seat.”

She shakes her head. “Sounds like you want to fuck him.”

“Pass. He looks too much like one of those rich Vineyard Vines boys. He’s definitely a narcissist.”

“Rich? I bet you could call him daddy, and he’d rain down the cash,” she suggests.

I balk at the thought. “You do it. Trickle down theory.”

“He’s not sitting next to me in class.”

“That can be arranged.”

Cole slides into the booth next to me. He must be on break. “Who’s sitting next to you in class?”

“Some guy who is super into Ashland. He walked her here earlier,” Penny explains, tapping her pencil on her cheek.

“That was not what I said. He followed me,” I argue.

Cole’s brown eyes dart to me. “Want me to walk you from class next week? I’ll switch shifts.”

I don’t need Cole to walk me, but I get some sick enjoyment from him doing everything I say. Penny looks displeased by his offer, but she keeps her mouth shut.

“Please?” I bat my eyelashes at him.

“You got it.” He casually puts his arm around the top of my seat. Cole is too much of a nice boy for me to ever consider him sex material. Especially when he does shit like this. It gives me the immediate ick. I would eat him alive if we were ever more than friends. He’s still under the impression that I can change. He would be wrong, but I don’t fault him for trying. I think he’s aiming to stick around long enough that I finally see him and realize he’s the one, like this is some sort of rom-com. It’s not. It’s like Jennifer’s Body, and I’m Jennifer.

Penny packs her stuff away. “Gotta go. See you two later.” She grabs her coffee, pats Cole on the head, and gives me a look that tells me I should stop fucking with Cole’s feelings.

“Are you gonna make it up to me tonight?” Cole leans back in his chair, spreading his legs under the table.

“Make what up?”

He gives me a confused look. “Pizza. You ditched me last time?”

“Oh, yeah.” I inwardly relax. For a second, I thought he was about to ask me for a blow job.

“Promise?” His big brown puppy dog eyes beg.

“Promise.”

The bar is already full by the time I get there. After I got home, I took a nap and overslept. Penny and Cole wave me over. They grabbed our favorite table in the corner. It was probably Cole. I bet he got here early just to secure it to make us happy. I feel kind of bad, but I also don’t. The second I sit down he’s all over me asking why I’m late and if everything is okay. He even asks about the asshole from class. Once he’s satisfied, he volunteers to get me a beer.

“God, he’s being intense tonight,” I groan.

“I think he checked his phone every minute.”

“I don’t know why. Mine’s dead, per usual. Get drunk and kiss a boy once and they just become obsessed.” I flip my hair.

“You’re evil,” she giggles.

“Like you haven’t done the same.”

“That was Freshman year!” she screeches. “I was in my hoe phase.”

“Still are,” I mumble.

Cole returns, sliding my favorite draft beer in front of me. It’s nice and frothy on the top, just the way I like it.

He furrows his brows. “Vale still isn’t here?”

“He went to his architect professor’s office hours. He’ll be here any minute.” Penny shrugs.

“Vale?” I look between them wildly. “You invited Vale ? How dare you.”

“He’s not that bad,” Penny insists.

“Not that bad? I’m going to have to suffer through two hours of his patronizing architecture jargon. Not to mention the fucking man bun. I want to cut it off of his head. I bet he’d cry.”

Cole nods and gives Penny a sheepish smile. “She’s not wrong. He’s a dick.”

“And how many times has he stood you up?” I continue. “Canceling at the last second with some bullshit about his so-called art.”

“Well, he just walked in. So, you two better play nice,” she hisses as he makes his way to the table. Even the way he walks is arrogant. He pauses at the bar to order a drink.

The moment he is handed a glass of white wine I groan and throw my head back against the chair. “Is he fucking kidding?”

“Ash,” Penny growls. Cole looks behind us trying to hide his laughter as Vale appears at Penny’s side. He makes absolutely no effort to act like he is enjoying himself, and he’s only been here for thirty seconds.

“I’m picking the place next time.” He swirls the glass looking into it with disgust. As if he organized this and isn’t an unwanted guest. “Ugh, they only had cheap wine,” he scoffs.

“I don’t think people usually order wine at a college dive bar, but I could be wrong.” I shrug, my tone biting.

He analyzes me as if he can’t tell if it’s a jab or a joke. “I see you’re still sober.” Guess he figured it out.

Cole wraps his arm around me and grips my bicep, holding me into place. “Good to see you, Vale.” He gives him a polite smile. “How have you been? What did you do over the summer?”

If I use just the right amount of force I can beat my brains out on this table. I know exactly what he was up to this summer because Penny had him on speaker while she was muted, and we literally cooked dinner and had an entire movie night, listening to him talk about it. For hours. Cole has started something that will never stop. It’s like he knows exactly what I’m thinking because his grip tightens. Penny and Vale’s weird on but not exactly off relationship irks me. Especially when they’re on.

Vale is filled with narcissism at the question. “Well, I actually spent time in New York with a very prominent architect. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”

I immediately tune him out. Penny smiles and pretends to actively listen as if she’s never heard this before. I leave and come back with three rounds of shots for me and Cole. We drink every time Vale says ‘prominent’. Penny tries to ignore us. It takes another thirty minutes after we are out of shots before he pauses to take a breath.

“Oh really? That’s interesting,” Cole says. “When I went to New York I—”

Vale doesn’t let him finish. He interrupts stating he needs more wine, sauntering away.

“Why the hell did you ask him that?” I glare at him. “He is never going to stop. Ever. If we all left, he would still be talking.”

“It’s interesting,” Penny defends him.

“His dick is interesting not him.”

Cole rolls his eyes and sucks in a deep breath. He puts his beer to his lips and starts drinking.

“Ashland!” Penny admonishes me.

“What? He has to look at himself in the mirror to finish.”

This makes Cole choke on his beer. He beats on his chest, coughing and laughing. Penny tries to stifle a laugh. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“She does see the light,” I say with relief. “You’re too good for him, Pen.”

“I know,” she huffs. “But his designs are hot.”

“I don’t even know what to do with that.”

She hops down. “I’m gonna go get another drink. I’ll be back.”

“She’s not coming back,” I inform Cole. “It’s gonna take an hour for him to stop talking to the bartender, explaining the properties of wines and how they’re superior in Europe.” I finish my beer and hold it out to Cole. He narrows his eyes and gives me a grin before taking it and getting me another.

When he returns, he looks like he’s just witnessed a murder. “You’re right. He’s still on Italy.”

“Wanna go get pizza after this beer?”

“God, yes.”

give him a mischievous grin. “Whoever finishes last?”

“I’ll race you, but don’t pretend you’ll pay for a damn thing.”

“You’re such a gentleman.” I pretend to swoon. I’m a little buzzed, enough to let Cole stand close and touch me too much.

We both put the glasses to our lips. Cole beats me, and the shit eating grin tells me that he’s proud of himself. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “A few seconds too slow, Bradshaw.”

“Whatever. Buy me pizza to ease my wounded ego.”

“Come on. Let’s tell Penny bye.” He pushes through the crowd with a firm grip on my hand.

When we reach her, Vale has finally switched subjects. He’s attempting to have a one-sided argument with some drunk guy about fifteenth century architecture.

I hug Penny. “We’re heading out.”

“Save me some pizza?”

“Will do.” Cole gives her a hug. “Don’t be too late, or Ashland will eat it.”

“Fuck off.” I shove him. He catches my hand and holds onto it. Penny raises a brow at me. I ignore her. “Love you, cunt. Try to enjoy yourself.”

Cole’s eyes glisten with alcohol. I like how he flirts with me when he’s drunk. It’s the only time I contemplate being with him, but when I think about the times we've kissed, I always come straight down from cloud nine. He’s too soft and too…caring. I pull my hand from his.

He shoves his hands in his pockets pretending I didn’t just reject him. “I feel kind of bad for leaving Penny behind.”

“She’ll be fine. She’ll get drunk and come home, tell me how annoying he was over pizza, and then we’ll cuddle all night.”

“I mean, I could get drunk, tell you how annoying he is over pizza, and cuddle all night,” he laughs, but I know it’s not a joke. It’s a question. I hate the fucking thought of cuddling with anyone except for her. There’s an awkward silence that’s broken when we reach Late Night, the pizza place. It’s only ten, but it’s already crowded. The smell of greasy cheese and pepperoni fills the air.

“Mm,” I moan. “Pizza.”

“Find a table.” He looks me over wistfully and hands me his phone. “Go ahead. That stupid match game you like is still downloaded.”

I take it, unlocking it immediately. “You’re just trying to keep me from running off.”

He shrugs, heading over to the line. “It’s effective.”

I find a table to the side and start scrolling. Guys are boring when it comes to their phones. He doesn’t have any nudes, and his texts are limited to texts with me and our group chat with Penny. I see a thread with Ava and open it up hungrily. It’s possibly the most boring conversation I have ever seen. She’s text him several times, and he answers with the most boring uninterested responses of all time. I log into his social and post a story of him standing in line and say something about him finally leaving his mom’s basement. Luckily, Cole finds those antics funny instead of irritating. Then I text Ava on his behalf and ask her what she’s up to tonight.

I’m finally bored of fucking with his life, so I scroll to the matching game he talked about. I’m mid-match when a shadow is cast over me.

“Thank god. I’m fucking starving.” I slam his phone onto the table and glance up into bright hazel eyes. Alexi Daemon stands above me with that same annoyingly friendly look on his face.

“Ashland Bradshaw.” He says with a smug grin and a twinkle in his eye. He’s flanked by the guy who had been at brunch. I can’t remember his name.

“Allen, was it?” I bite out.

“Alexi,” he says with ease. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“It’s the only pizza place on campus. Are you stalking me?”

“Happy coincidence.”

The guy behind him doesn’t look amused in the slightest. He honestly looks annoyed. Seems to be his perpetual state. Fucking same.

“Too bad. Horrible seeing you. Goodbye.”

“Are you here with anyone?” he asks.

“Doubt it,” the guy behind him grumbles. His black coal eyes stare me down with malice.

My anger flares. “Do you have a problem, Chance?”

His eye twitches. “It’s Koda.”

“Where’s Stacy? I don’t see her anywhere. Shouldn’t she be pretending to choke on your dick or something?”

Alexi smirks. He’s a good audience even though he keeps annoying the hell out of me.

“Shut your dirty slut mouth,” Koda growls.

“I prefer to call it filthy.”

“Okay, you two,” Alexi intervenes. “No need to measure dicks.”

I pretend to yawn. “You'd have to have something to measure.”

“Alexi,” Koda says in warning.

Alexi grabs the phone from the table, typing away on it. “Here.” He hands it back. “Now I have your number. I’ll hit you up to study.”

Inwardly I smirk. Cole is going to be so confused when he gets a text from another Chance.

“I’d love that,” I lie.

“Alexi,” Koda barks.

“Alright, geez. This one.” He throws his thumb back. “So angry when he’s hungry.”

“Well, you two have a nice night touching tips or whatever it is that you do,” I dismiss him. Alexi bites his lip and raps his knuckles on the table. With one last look, he walks away. Koda glances back on the way out, and I give him the middle finger. His jaw hardens as he angrily shakes his head.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to fight someone.” Cole has two pizza boxes in his arms.

I smile sweetly. “Nope. I was just saying hi.”

“I’m just gonna pretend that’s the truth. Did you hear from Penny?”

“She’s gonna meet us at home. Vale left right after we did because he needs his beauty sleep.”

“Figures.”

I open a pizza box and pull out a slice, eating while we walk.

I love the way campus is at night. Teeming with drunk life. People stumble around and laugh. Something about the atmosphere makes me feel like I’m alive. Before we turn onto my street, I swear I see a pair of familiar eyes connect with mine. A shiver runs down my spine with fear. I glance at Cole, who is avoiding a guy puking in the street, and look back. There’s nothing there. I try to quiet the panic as the voices start to creep into my head.

I squeeze myself against Cole. He gives me a confused look, but he puts his arm around me, not questioning it. Cole doesn’t make me feel safe, but I know he would defend me. He wouldn’t even have to think about it. It’s not that I wouldn’t try to do the same, but I’d rather not find out. I’m ashamed of it, but there’s a real possibility that I would panic. Penny is the only person I think I could jump in front of a bullet for, and she earned that shit.

I would be sad about Cole, of course. I’m not a fucking sociopath, but when it comes to fight or flight, I don’t trust myself not to just lay down instead. Those eyes haunt me as we pass the houses on the street. I see them in every window and feel them on my back. I’m paranoid. I start to shiver, and Cole pulls me closer. He doesn’t know that it won’t help. He doesn’t know the things that haunt me or run through my mind. Evil lurks just behind my eyelids.

Who do you belong to, Ashland?