Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“Can we at least walk you to the door?” asks Lukas, climbing out of the car to let me out.
We’ve spent so much of this weekend together, it’s almost weird to say goodbye in the parking lot of the newspaper office.
They had spent a good amount of time this morning debating if they were going to bring me to my dorm so I could drop off my bags and then bring me to work, or if they should bring me straight here.
But I eventually put us all out of our misery by informing them that I wanted them to just take me straight to the newspaper.
So they’ve dropped me at work with both of my bags. They tried to argue with me about how I’d have to then carry them home on the bus later, but it’s just a backpack and a small duffel bag, not giant suitcases. Besides, I didn’t want them to have to go even more out of their way.
“I think I can manage to walk twenty feet up a sidewalk,” I point out. “You can see the door from here, you’ll even know I got inside safely.” I don’t roll my eyes as I say it, even though I want to. I know their insistence on making sure I’m safe comes from a good place.
Sebastian frowns as he holds my backpack out for me to slip my arms through the straps. “I thought men were always supposed to walk women to the door.”
“At the end of a date, sure,” I correct him, taking my overnight bag out of Felix’s hands. “This is just you guys dropping me off at work. Totally different.”
“We did spend the weekend together,” he points out.
“Studying,” I say. He looks like he’s about to protest, so I add, “And yes, movie night and … other things. But it wasn’t a date, remember?”
Sebastian looks to his roommates for support, but they don’t say anything. Eventually, he nods in agreement.
“Good. Now get home safe, and watch out for deer,” I tell them, spouting the line my mother always says to Dad whenever he gets in the car.
I’m not sure there has been a deer in Boston in at least a century, but it’s ingrained in me.
It’s what I get for growing up outside of the city instead of in it.
I turn and begin to make my way up the sidewalk, bracing myself for whatever my editor has to throw at me today. I’ve had such a good weekend, I’m not sure I even care if Carl acts like a dick to me, and that’s a pretty good feeling.
“Wait,” calls Lukas. When I turn back, he says, “We didn’t get to give you a goodbye kiss.”
I sigh. So much for us not treating this like a date. But I don’t have time to argue with them.
“Fine, one workplace-appropriate kiss each.” The last thing I need is for one of the reporters to tell Carl they saw me making out with four different guys in front of the office.
One by one, the guys line up and kiss me chastely before returning to stand beside their car doors.
None of them are in the same place they rode over here in, so they must have a different rotation for when they drive somewhere with just them.
Exactly how many of these different rotations are they keeping?
Their minds are fascinating. Weird and a little exhausting at times, but fascinating.
Squaring my shoulders, I head into work, feeling their eyes on me as I walk through the front doors and into the empty lobby. When I’m far enough from the front doors that I think they can’t see, I turn back around so I can watch them drive away. But they’re still sitting there, waiting.
Shaking my head, I call the elevator with a small smile on my lips. While I’m waiting, the front door opens. I turn, expecting one of the guys to be running in with something I left in the car.
Instead, that smarmy asshole Brad is walking toward me.
I see him register my slightly wrinkled clothes, which are much more casual than I ever wear to work even though pretty much everyone else is in jeans and T-shirts most of the time.
His gaze drops to my overnight bag, and I steel myself for a gross comment, but he doesn’t say anything.
Just steps past me onto the elevator and pulls his phone out and scrolls until the elevator opens on our floor, which is just fine by me.
As usual, I spend my shift restocking the break room and seething about the lack of real work Carl offers me.
When I ask him for something to do, the best he can come up with is delivering a folder to one of the reporters whose desk is ten feet from his office.
I finally give up trying to find something newspaper-y to do and instead take a deep dive on the creation of Rubik’s Cubes and speedcubing competitions.
I did some bare-basics research for the article I wrote for the Tribune, but my new one for class is going to need a lot more.
Just before 5:00, I start wrapping up for the day. On the weekends, buses don’t come super often, so I have to make the 5:15 one or I’ll be stuck here for ages.
“We’re out of coffee.” I’m shutting down my computer when Brad leans against my desk, practically hovering over me as he checks out my computer screen. “We’re out of coffee.”
“I need to catch my bus,” I tell him.
“Well, then. You better hurry up.” Brad doesn’t make a move, just stays leaning against my desk, waiting for me to do his bidding.
I fear that if I don’t just go start a new pot, he’ll manage to hold me up so I miss my bus, so I speedwalk to the break room.
I’m really cutting it close though, so as soon as I hit the start button on the coffee pot, I spin around to dash back to my desk for my things and nearly run straight into Brad.
“You should watch where you’re going.” Brad smirks and doesn’t move out of the doorway.
“Excuse me. I’m going to miss my bus,” I say, exasperated. Not just with Brad for blocking my way, but at everything about this stupid job. Working at a newspaper is my dream. This internship is supposed to be fun for me, and I hate that it isn’t.
He doesn’t move. “You’re not even going to say please?”
I grit my teeth. “Please.”
Slowly, Brad inches a little to the side, forcing me to make entirely too much bodily contact as I squeeze past him.
Everything about him is just so smarmy. If I hadn’t read about his awards and all the impressive stories he’s covered with my own eyes, I would never believe this man was capable of doing anything other than being a misogynistic asshole.
“Don’t forget your overnight bag,” calls Brad, stopping me in my tracks.
Unease settles into my body. I didn’t realize he’d been paying attention to me earlier, but I guess he was, at least enough that he saw that I came in with an extra bag. But why would he assume it’s an overnight bag? It could be a gym bag.
Unless … did he look inside it just now when I wasn’t at my desk? The very idea gives me the ick something fierce, but I don’t have time to worry about it now.
I force myself to keep moving, grabbing both of my bags and hightailing it out of the office.
I don’t want to give Brad the satisfaction of letting him know he got to me, but I can’t help looking over my shoulder as I get on the elevator, and again when I get outside.
Brad isn’t following me, but the windows of the building are tinted so for all I know, he could be standing up there watching me.
Why can’t I just have a normal internship, without creepy assholes who ruin everything?
I drop my bags as soon as I shoulder open the door to our dorm room.
“Good! You’re finally back!” Ronnie jumps up off her bed and practically ushers me into the room and to my desk. “I brought you a sandwich and some chips.”
She gestures to the packaged cafeteria food on my desk as if it’s a prize and not the same thing we eat every day.
I eye her with concern. “Is everything okay? Did something happen to you while I was gone this weekend?”
“No? I don’t think so. Why?” Now it’s Ronnie’s turn to sound worried.
“Because you brought me back food from the cafeteria and you’ve set it out like I’m an animal you’re trying to trap. Or maybe you’re trying to butter me up before delivering bad news?”
She rolls her eyes and plops back on her bed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Says the girl who practically jumped into my arms, she was so happy to see me,” I counter with a laugh. Normally I’m the one who is glad she’s back because I spend a lot more time alone in our small dorm room than she does. It feels pretty good to have her get excited over me for a change.
“Okay, fine,” she says. “I know you. If we’d gone to the cafeteria for dinner, you would have refused to tell me anything about your weekend, and I want all the details. Don’t leave anything out.”
Tilting my head as though I’m considering where to begin and not just stalling for time, I methodically unwrap the plastic wrap from my sandwich and smooth out the wrapper to use as a plate, because of course Ronnie forgot to get one and while my desk is tidy, I’m not sure it’s clean enough to actually eat off of.
I should ask Elliot what type of sanitizing wipes are best and get a pack for our dorm room.
Ronnie is starting to vibrate with annoyance at how long I’m taking to answer.
I don’t want to lie, but I feel weird telling her all the sexual details of the weekend.
What if she judges me? If it was with just one of the guys, I know she wouldn’t—but I have no idea how she’ll react if she knows I hooked up with all four of them. At once. Multiple times.
“I got through all of my psychology homework and did my reading for English. Although I just remembered, I still need to write out a short essay on that section for tomorrow.”
“Ugh, Rebecca!” She falls back against her pillow and covers her face in frustration.
“It’s okay. It’s only one page, so I can easily get it done tonight.” I know for a fact that she isn’t referring to my homework, but maybe if I play dumb she’ll leave me alone. Besides, it’s kind of fun to watch her squirm.
“Okay,” she says in a forcibly measured tone, sitting up and swiping her hair out of her face, “what did you do besides homework?”