Page 45 of Wicked Little Darling

It didn’t seem like he was mad about whatever had happened. Then again, I’d never really seen Dakota get mad.

God, what was I doing? The longer I was around Dakota, the less I thought he was just another elite asshole. But if he wasn’t fucking with me, then…

I didn’t have a clue. It was impossible to believe anyone would be interested in me on any level. And even if he was, it didn’t matter.

I wasn’t a good person.

Maybe that’s why Dean Voss was making me keep tabs on Dakota. He wasn’t a good man, either, and maybe he recognized that in me.

I jumped when the alarm on my phone went off, then swiped to dismiss it.

If I was being perfectly honest with myself, I was just as morally bankrupt as Dean Voss.

It was really hard to care about being a decent person when there was no one in your life left to judge you.

The jury was still out on Dakota, though, and I wished they’d hurry up and give me their fucking verdict because I wanted to lump him into the same category as his dad so it wouldn’t hurt so much when I had to hand all his secrets over.

Not that I’d uncovered any secrets.

At this stage, Dakota was just a confusing puzzle of a person that I didnotwant to solve.

But I should at least give the impression that I was trying to keep an eye on him, right?

I looked around the room, eyes landing on my backpack, then leaned forward and pulled out a notebook. I flipped to the back and scribbled a few words that would hopefully placate the dean.

Notes:

9/22 ~ Dakota seems to be an ordinary boy sofar, a little annoying. He goes to class, he reads, he sleeps. Nothing of note to report just yet.

I didn’t address the fact thatIwas the one who’d been acting out of the ordinary.

I closed the notebook and slid it back into my bag. Hopefully that would satisfy the dean.

Besides, nothing was going to happen anyway.

Unknown:

Have you been able to find the laundry room?

I sighedas I read Dakota’s text.

No, I hadn’t found the laundry room. The night he gave me directions, I’d been too wound up after attacking him like a maniac, flustered beyond words when he asked if I was going to kiss him, and drained from crying alone in the bathroom for half an hour. By the time I came out, I was so internally overwrought that when he’d told me where it was, his words had gone in one ear and out the other. All I retained was the wordbasement, and going down the basement hadn’t shown me the way. There were so many doors and rooms and turns that after checking ten, I’d given up.

And then when I returned, there was some guy in his bed. The irritation that had prickled under my skin when I saw them pressed so close together baffled me, and I didn’t want to think about why I reacted that way.

I set my phone down on the table and ignored him, turning my attention back to my textbook. But my mind kept drifting back to Dakota, and I found myself typing him a reply.

Me:

No

His response came through before I could turn my screen off.

Unknown:

Told you. I’ll show you tonight. Do you like chocolate?

I blinked, then scratched my head.