WREN
Don’t go.
Those two words whisper in my mind when I go to the dining hall early to eat dinner. I sit with Lara and Brooke, not really listening as they gossip about everyone in our class.
Once I’m done with dinner, I head back to my room, those same two words pounding a rhythm in my brain as I walk, the sidewalk slushy and wet from the melting snow. The sky is already dark, and soon, it’ll freeze over.
Hopefully I won’t break my neck when I head over to Crew’s.
No. Don’t go.
I take a shower and wash my hair. Shave my legs and every other area I can think of. Slather my favorite body lotion all over my skin. Blow dry my hair, curling the ends with my rounded brush. Put a thin layer of mascara on my lashes and rub my favorite lip balm across my lips. The one that makes them pinker.
I put on the prettiest underwear I own—a pair of pink cotton panties with a lacy waistband and a bralette I somehow convinced my mother to let me purchase a few years ago when we went shopping together. It’s white and lacy and I’ve never worn it.
Until now.
My intent is clear. I’m going to Crew’s and I’m wearing the sexiest underwear I own, which isn’t that sexy, but whatever.
I’m trying.
Once I slip on a black hoodie and my favorite pair of black leggings, I pull on an old pair of black UGG boots, I don’t mind getting wet in the snow, and then throw on my puffer coat, going to the mirror so I can check out my outfit.
Boring. Normal. I don’t look any different. I definitely don’t look like a girl who’s hoping a boy will slip his hand in her panties again.
An aggravated noise leaves me and I grab my phone and my dorm building pass, locking my door before I leave.
No one notices me walk out. Not even the RA who sits at the front desk. She’s too busy fielding questions from a group of girls surrounding her desk, and I didn’t care enough to stand around and listen to what they were complaining about.
It’s cold and dark, and I walk carefully along the sidewalk, noting how slippery it is. No one else is out, and there’s mist in the air, making me grateful I wore my hat. I pull up the hood on my sweatshirt, giving my freshly dried hair double protection.
Crew’s room is in one of the old buildings that used to house staff who lived on campus. Now there are a few suites for Lancaster family members, but it’s mostly used for storage. I’ve never been out here.
Not once.
I tug on the cold metal door handle, opening the door, the creaking sound loud in the otherwise quiet. The moment I’m inside, there’s a hushed quality to the lobby, reminding me that it’s just me and Crew out here. No one else.
A trickle of fear runs through me, but I push it aside. He’s proven that he knows how to be nice to me, though I’ve witnessed his anger and meanness too.
Maybe that’s half the appeal. I never know what I’m going to get when I’m with him.
I walk down the hall, spotting an open door up ahead, the light from within the room shining onto the floor. Suddenly he appears, standing there in the beam of light, looking way too handsome in a navy hoodie that looks just like mine and a pair of gray sweats with the Property of Lancaster Prep logo on his right hip.
“You made it.” He smiles faintly as I draw closer. “Didn’t think you’d show.”
“I didn’t think I would either,” I answer truthfully. I stop directly in front of him. “Should I leave?”
“You want to?” Before I answer, he adds, “Don’t think too hard about it. Just say yes or no.”
“No.” I straighten my spine. “I don’t want to leave.”
He holds his hand out toward his room. “Then come in.”
I enter the suite, glancing around, trying to take it all in. The room is huge. There’s a massive bed in the center of it, at least a king-size, with nightstands flanking either side of it, both lamps lit. There’s a desk to the left with an expensive chair, and a dresser to the right. An open doorway to the right of the bed leads to a bathroom.
“Your room is nice,” I say, feeling nervous.
“Thanks.” He comes toward me. “Want to take off your coat?”