Page List


Font:  

ASPEN

Another day of trying to stay afloat on a life raft that has a gaping hole in it while a hundred sharks circle beneath, waiting for me to slip into the water. And by that, I mean attending Corium.

I hate being so vulnerable and helpless, and I’m fucking tired of feeling this way. As soon as I get this cast off, I’m done with this. I’m done letting them push me around. I’ll spend every waking hour in the gym if I have to, but I will get stronger.

After seeing Quinton and Anja together, my hatred for him and this place explodes ten-fold. I try to blend into the background, but when everyone already hates you, and you now have an exposed weakness, it’s harder to go unnoticed.

I thank my lucky stars that I’ve made it through another day of classes without becoming the target for someone else’s amusement. I’ve been grumpy all week and think it would be good to get some sunshine. I remember the sunroom and how it rarely has many people in it, but it’s been a while since I’ve been up there.

I guess if it’s too busy, I’ll just return to my dorm. My arms have healed, and it’s not as painful to get around. Plus, I can take the elevator up and won’t have to hike a flight of stairs. I leave my room and hobble down the hall to the elevator.

People are moving about the corridor, but it’s not nearly as congested as it is in the morning. I ignore the people around me and make a beeline across the hall to the elevators. I’m almost there, when out of nowhere, someone slams into the side of me.

My nails dig into the wall as I try to gain purchase on something to stop myself from falling on the floor. One of my crutches clatters by my feet, and I peer over my shoulder just in time to see Anja smiling while walking past me. What a fucking bitch?

I want to ask her what the hell her problem is with me but keep it behind my lips. If it has anything to do with Quinton, I don’t want to be a part of it.

Catching my breath, I stand there for a moment while people pass by without even blinking in my direction. Someone could slit my throat in this hallway right before their eyes, and I bet they wouldn’t notice.

I look down at the ground. The crutch is resting on the floor beside my foot. I’m afraid to bend down and pick it up because if I lose my balance, there won’t be anyone to help me up, but there isn’t any other option. I guess if I fall over, I’ll have to army crawl my way back to my room. The thought of doing that makes me laugh.

Having wasted enough time, I bend down, pick up the crutch, and continue on my way to the sunroom. My mood is already lightening, just thinking about the feeling of the sun on my skin. The warmth and joy that you get from a dose of vitamin D. It’s exactly what I need.

The elevator comes to a halt, and there’s a chime before the doors open. I hesitate to step out when I see numerous people occupying the sunroom.

Shit!I don’t know what I was hoping for, but I didn’t think there would be that many people here. I surprise myself when I take a step forward and step out of the elevator.

I’ll just keep to the walls and do my best to blend into the background. My crutches make little noise as I enter further into the room. I can already feel the rays of the sun on my skin, melting my cold interior. The sound of laughter fills my ears, and I turn toward it, glancing at the group of men, but not just any men, Quinton, Ren, and their friend, Nash, are sitting and laughing at something one of them said.

I notice that the worst of all of them—Matteo—is missing. In fact, now that I think back on it, I can’t recall seeing him around Quinton and Ren at all. Before, he was everywhere they were, but now, it’s like he doesn’t even exist. At least to them.

He still haunts my every thought. I know he still has it out for me, and like a snake, he’s slithering through the grass, waiting for the perfect time to strike. I can feel eyes on me and glance over at Quinton, but it isn’t him looking at me. No, it’s Nash.

His beady eyes scan over my body in a way that makes my skin crawl. It’s more than being uncomfortable, the way he looks at me. It’s like he wants to break me like a glow stick just to see what’s inside.

My hands become clammy, and I decide it’s probably best to return to my room. I’ve taken enough risks and drawn enough attention to myself today. Turning on my crutches, I walk toward the elevator when, out of nowhere, I’m tripped.

“Watch your step, rat!” Someone snickers.

Laughter rains down around me as I release the crutches and catch myself on my hands to stop from smashing my face into the ground. Pain ricochets up my bad leg, and I let out a soft cry.

I grit my teeth to hold back the rest of the pain and look up from the floor. My eyes meet Quinton’s icy blue gaze, and all I can do is stare at him, wondering what his next move is going to be.

Will he help me?

He wears a perfect mask of pain and hate, but I know deep down there is more to him than meets the eye. I know the real him, the man who comes to my room at night and lets me see all his broken pieces.

Exhaling the air from my lungs, I break eye contact and ignore the eyes that are on me while I try to get off the floor. He’s not going to help me. Why would he?

The pain in my leg intensifies, and I’d probably cry if there weren’t so many people waiting for the tears to fall.

Assholes.Waiting to see me fall or fail.

I let that anger burn through my veins, giving me the drive to push through the pain and help myself up off the floor. Not that anyone gives me a helping hand, least of all Quinton, who I can feel watching me the entire time. I don’t know why I expected him to offer.

What does it say about this entire room full of people if they don’t make a move to help someone in need? I guess the better question is, who trips a person with a broken leg. Preying on the week is the lowest, not standing up for someone who can’t stand up for themselves, even lower. I vow to myself that I will never sink to their level.

It can’t be more than a minute, but it seems like an eternity before I get to my feet. It takes even longer for me to situate both crutches so I can get out of this fucking place.

By the time I reach the elevator doors, I’m blinking back tears. I glance back at Quinton one more time and notice his jaw is tight, and confliction flickers in his eyes.

He’s conflicted…but why? I mean nothing to him. I’m finally sure of it. He only cares about me when I’m on my back. And this time, I won’t forget it.


Tags: C. Hallman Romance