Page 3 of Within Shadows

Maeve

My alarm blares to life, forcing me to reach around until I can feel my phone on the nightstand and silence that irritating beeping.

College is kicking my ass this Monday morning, and I don’t even have enough time to make my coffee after I twist my messy hair into a bun.

Saturday night feels like a lifetime ago as I hurry along the uneven sidewalk on my way to campus, enjoying the crisp air as the leaves crunch beneath my sneakers.

My tight black jeans and bright orange hoodie match my hair, bringing a smile to my face when I catch my reflection in the window of the coffee shop.

The bell above the door rings, announcing my entrance as I step into line behind the other exhausted students, each of us barely alive this morning as we shuffle forward in silence.

A soft tap on my shoulder has me meeting a pair of green eyes, the shade of autumn leaves, behind the reflection of glasses.

He’s about a head taller than me, with long black hair tied back, and he motions to my hoodie.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you have great taste, so I thought you might be able to help.” His deep voice catches my attention as he motions between us. We’re both wearing a bright orange hoodie and black jeans. I snort a laugh, moving forward along with the line.

“What do you need help with?” I ask.

“I just transferred to this college, and my friend told me I have to try this coffee shop, but I’m not much of a coffee drinker. Got any recommendations?” he asks sheepishly, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“I’m probably the worst person to ask, since I’ve always gotten the same order since I started coming here. Iced caramel cappuccino, blended with extra caramel sauce,” I say as I also tell the barista at the register, since it’s my turn.

“Make that two. I’ll cover it since she tolerated me pestering her.” He steps forward, handing a twenty to the barista and motioning for him to keep the change as he follows me to the other side of the counter, where we wait for our coffees.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I mutter, “but thank you.” He shrugs as we wait in awkward silence. Once our drinks are ready, he steps forward to open the door.

“My name is Garrett, by the way,” he tells me, holding the door open for me to pass through.

“Thanks. I’m Maeve.” I wave at him as a goodbye when I follow the sidewalk towards the massive stonework building where I’ll spend the next few hours in class.

Garrett catches up to me with long strides, holding his phone up to show the list of classes he’s taking.

Our first two are in the same class, and I peer up to see him blushing again.

“I know I’m probably at the end of your patience, but is there any way you can tell me where this second class is?

I can’t find it on the map, and so far you’re the only student I’ve met.

Transferring halfway through the year is making it a bit challenging,” he says sheepishly.

I stop walking and pull my phone out, tapping on the map to show him where the class is.

“You’re fine. It’s really no problem. Arts Software is actually attached to the library, but they just haven’t updated the map.

Part of the college is under construction, and it's a bit hard to navigate if it’s your first day.

I’ll show you how to get there after our first class is over,” I say, noticing how handsome he is.

His smile is bright and creates a heat in my chest as I stare for longer than is polite.

“We have our first class together? Well, now I can say I’m excited.” He laughs, and I snort at his awkward way of flirting. It’s actually really cute. “I’ll buy your coffee again tomorrow, my treat,” he offers, but I shake my head, waving him off.

“Absolutely not, I owe you for this morning.” I smile and he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, giving an awkward chuckle as we reach the building and the steady stream of students mulling about.

“I’ve always been terrible at flirting, but this one really takes the cake for one of my worst attempts.” My eyebrows raise as I stare ahead, caught off guard by his straightforwardness. I mull over my thoughts as we reach our first class, and he pulls out my chair for me to sit next to him.

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested in meeting you for coffee, Garrett. What I said no to is you paying.” I smirk as he turns to face me, beaming that bright smile again that makes me giggle.

When our class ends, Garrett is up and takes my bag before the bell finishes ringing.

“You’re showing me how to get around, the least I can do is carry your bag.

” He smiles warmly, and I roll my eyes, trying to hide the blush in my cheeks as I stand and lead him out of the room.

Garrett steps closer when the hallways crowd, pushing his hand into my lower back as he guides me, and that touch alone makes my heart flutter.

It’s such a simple thing, and I struggle to focus on what he’s saying until he grabs my elbow to stop me.

“Earth to Maeve, you in there?” he teases, leaning down so that I’m staring into his eyes.

I laugh awkwardly and wave my hand towards the library doors.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still exhausted.

This is our stop.” I hold the door open, and he reaches above me, leaning close as he waves me in.

He did a doorway lean for a split second, and I’m already having dirty thoughts. Jess is right, I need to get laid.

I duck through the open doorway and quickly find a seat towards the back of the rows of desks, and Garrett sits next to me.

Close enough that our thighs brush when he shifts in his seat to push his sleeves up.

I’ve always been a sucker for arms, and the veins that stand out across his skin have me shivering in my seat.

Pay attention, Maeve. I mentally shake myself and force my eyes to the young female professor that stands at the front of our class as she greets us.

Near the end of class, Garrett stretches, and his sweatshirt rides up. My eyes zero in on the deep cut line between his hips, and he leans forward with a smirk.

“Maeve, you aren’t undressing me with your eyes, are you?” he whispers, and I clear my throat, refusing to answer as I bite my own tongue. Damn hormones.

My day finally ends at just after two in the afternoon, and I am dragging my ass right home to curl up in bed.

I trudge along the sidewalk, biting back a yawn as I mindlessly skip through songs on my phone until the deep vocals that are all too familiar swell within my ears.

Knowing how sexy Knox is up close and very personal somehow adds to his voice, and I know how screwed I am.

A hand waves in front of my face, and I yank out my headphone, whipping my head to lock eyes with the one person I was hoping to avoid this year.

Oliver is grinning at me, with one hand shoved in his pocket as he ruffles his blonde hair.

“You sure are jumpy, Maevey.” He calls me the old nickname he used when we were dating. The one I hated from the first time he said it.

“I thought I told you to stay away from me, Oliver. Stop calling me that,” I huff, brushing past him as I pick up my pace. He has no trouble keeping up and stepping in front of me to cut me off. I cross my arms, refusing to show fear even if it rears its head within me.

“We can’t even be civil? I told you that I was sorry. I gave you space, Maeve. What more do you want from me?” He throws his hands up as if I’m the problem.

“No, we can’t be civil. A shitty apology, if you can even call it that, doesn’t change anything. Keep giving me space,” I snap, backing away. Oliver is getting angry, and I’ve seen his anger too many times before.

“How much longer before you get over yourself, Maeve?” he asks, fists clenched at his sides. Oliver takes a step closer, and I step back, accidentally bumping into somebody. Warm, familiar hands steady me, gripping my upper arms. They tighten once, and I look up to see Garrett smiling down at me.

“Everything okay here? Sorry I took so long, I got held up in class. Are you ready to go?” he asks, tilting his head. I swallow hard, and for a moment I’m grateful for him stepping in, but also defeated that once again I couldn’t handle Oliver on my own.

“Hey, we’re in the middle of something here. Mind getting your hands off of her?” Oliver squares his shoulders, looking every bit of the tough guy that I know he isn’t. Garrett looks him over, almost with a cold expression bordering amusement.

“Maeve is perfectly capable of speaking for herself.” Garrett stands to his full height. His voice no longer holds the friendly warmth that he showed me today, and I nearly laugh when Oliver seems to shrink back a step.

“Goodbye, Oliver,” I say, stepping around him. Garrett puts himself between us, glaring at him as we pass. His demeanor returns to casual, and I sigh in relief until I look back to see Oliver watching me. I was going to have to deal with that another day.

“Want to talk about that?” Garrett asks.

“Nope.”

“Fair enough, want me to walk you home?” he offers. I laugh and shake my head. “You don’t have to go out of your way for me.”

“Maeve, I’m being serious. He seemed a little unstable, and I live this way, so it’s no problem.” I decide it won’t be a terrible thing after all, and we spend the short walk talking about the upcoming project we’ve already been assigned.

“I’m just saying, doing an abstract portrait of our partners is risky. I’m very sensitive, so I’m not sure who I trust to gather all of this awesomeness,” Garrett says, laughter shaking his shoulders as I scoff.

“I bet you I would nail it.”

“If this is your way of asking to be partners for the project, then I have to warn you that I’m going to outshine you.

Can’t be helped.” He shrugs, and I hold my hand out.

“Alright then, partner. Game on.” I grin as we shake hands, and I wave towards my house.

“This is my stop, but I’ll see you in the morning for that free coffee? ” I ask.

“Looking forward to it. Would it be too forward if I asked for your number?” He raises a brow, and I hold a hand out for his phone, typing my number in before handing it back.

“Have a good evening, Maeve.” He gives me an exaggerated bow as I walk away.

Garrett waits until I pick up my stack of mail and am safely inside before he turns and walks back the way we came as I watch from the window above my couch.

My phone dings before I finish hanging up my bag and drop my stack of mail on my coffee table when I stop to check the screen.

Unknown: It’s me, obviously. Your favorite classmate.

My cheeks hurt from just how much he has made me smile and I type out a quick reply.

Me: Right, Grayson? Or Gabriel? Maybe your name is Gale?

Before I can slip my phone back into my pocket, it dings twice, but only one message is from Garrett.

Garrett: Keep on, and your abstract is going to have giant curly nose hairs, missy.

My smile drops the moment I see Oliver’s name amongst my notifications.

Oliver: Whore.

The message is one word and still manages to sour my entire mood.

I throw my phone onto the couch and storm to my kitchen, digging out a half empty bottle of whiskey from my cabinet and a cold cola from the fridge.

With my mixed drink in one hand, I sprawl out on my couch and pick a new murder documentary while curling my feet up under my blanket.

By the time the movie finishes, my eyelids are heavy, and I force myself to sit up and reopen my conversation with Garrett.

Me: Do you watch any murdery shows?

Garrett: Please tell me this is a harmless question, and I didn’t seal my fate with the nose hair thing?

I smile at his response and send him a picture of the screen, showing the episode I’ve switched to.

Me: Maybe. Consider this careful research.

I watch the dots pop up immediately and bite my lip as I wait for him to reply.

Garrett: Well, I’ve seen that one, and it was all the aunt. Saved you forty minutes of your life.

I sit up, jaw wide open as I tap the button to call him. He picks up immediately, and I consider hanging up.

“Miss me already, Maeve?” he taunts.

“You spoiled it! I love watching these and trying to guess who did it,” I pout. He’s silent for a moment.

“Well, I am truly sorry for my misdeed. I absolutely won’t spoil the next episode, mostly because I haven’t seen it yet.”

“I’m gonna watch it and spoil it for you,” I taunt.

“Maeve, are you drunk?” I frown, confident that I wasn’t slurring my words.

“I’m spoiling the next two episodes now,” I huff.

“I have an idea. We watch the next episode together, on the phone. Mine’s loading up right now,” he offers.

“Okay, but I need five to grab snacks and a refill!” I hurriedly head to the kitchen, listening to him ruffling through snacks of his own.