Chapter 4
SAGE
I decided to dress simple, wearing a pair of jeans and a blouse that shows a little bit of cleavage, as nerves for my first day at Blackmore University wrack my body and mind.
I fluff my hair one more time in the mirror, then grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder.
“You can take my car.” My grandmother greets me at the bottom of the stairs. “Yours should be here soon enough.”
I pluck the keys hanging from her fingers, giving her a little smile in thank you.
The last few days have been interesting. I’ve spent a lot of time in bed, and a lot of time getting to know my grandmother. I haven’t touched on the topic of my parents or the fact I was apparently born in Blackmore. Because honestly? I’ve been too scared to hear whatever my grandmother might say.
Right now, I’m just feeling numb—numb to life, numb to the past, present, and future.
Anxiety is clawing its way up my throat with every inhale, desperate to strangle me.
I’m not sure there’s any way I’m going to survive this besides just simply experiencing it.
I need to find my footing and take it from there.
I think the hardest part was that realization—that there was absolutely nothing I could do to change this.
The drive to school is a straight shot back up Main Street and on the corner of town, so I find my way easily. It seems impossible to get lost here, really, since there’s only one road.
My GPS has me turn down the road that snakes around and behind the cemetery, trees shrouding and shadowing the old, black pavement. The trees block the sun, making it feel like it’s deep into the afternoon instead of first thing in the morning.
There’s large, wooden fencing that runs parallel to the trees, keeping the road and the grassy dirt of the cemetery separate.
After a few minutes, the road opens into a huge entry that forks off in three different directions, but behind that sits a massive grey structure that resembles a castle.
Blackmore University absorbs the light from around it, the sky looking grey and empty, no clouds in sight.
With a tight chest, I stop the car right before the fork, reading the sign that sits in the grass, arrows pointing down each road.
DORMS
UNIVERSITY
CEMETERY
A small laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. “What kind of school has a cemetery?”
A horn blares, making me jump, and I realize there’s someone behind me trying to get past. Lifting my hand, I turn down the road with the arrow pointing toward UNIVERSITY and mouth the word sorry in my rearview mirror.
The road turns bumpy, and I admire my surroundings while I head toward my new school.
There are more trees, leaves covering the ground, and students walking around.
When I reach the parking lot marked STUDENTS, there are only a few cars in the dozen or so spots available.
I guess in a town this small, where most students probably live on campus or nearby, no one needs to bring a car to school.
I slip my grandmother’s Toyota into a parking spot, then cut the engine.
Taking a deep breath, I step out onto the asphalt, savoring the way the fresh, country air feels in my lungs, before I pull my bag out and throw it on my shoulder.
Even with it being mid-October, humidity licks at the back of my neck, my hair sticking to my skin as I cross the parking lot to the entrance of the university.
Big letters are carved into the building above a massive set of double doors reading BLACKMORE UNIVERSITY, EST 1824, so I make the assumption they lead to the main building where the office is.
I yank on one of the giant doors, A/C hitting me as I pull it open, and find a woman sitting behind a dark maple desk that stretches across the entire room. She looks up at me, then tucks her dark hair behind her ear. “Yes?”
Clearing my throat, I walk across the hardwood to meet her. “Hi, I’m Sage Lindman. I’m supposed to meet with someone about my schedule.”
“Ahh.” She jumps up. “Our transfer from UCLA!”
I smile, feeling like an alien. “Yeah.”
She makes her way to a door that sits at the back of the room, off in the corner. Tapping her knuckles, she pushes it open and pops her head just inside the door to say something.
When she comes back, there’s a woman following her. Slim and tall, blonde hair wrapped into a tight bun at the back of her head, she’s young and beautiful, and her smile makes me feel warm.
“Miss Lindman, so nice to meet you.” She holds out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Headmistress Tallen.”
Smiling, I take her hand. “Nice to meet you, please, call me Sage.”
I swallow through the lump in my throat, shaking off my nerves as my hands drop back to my sides. I feel a little better now that she’s so welcoming.
“Please, come to my office.” She waves a hand, then turns and leads me through the door she just came from.
Her office is massive. Stone walls decorated in large bookshelves and artwork, except for one wall that is covered from floor to ceiling in windows, showing off what must be the main courtyard of the university.
She notices me peering through them. “I like to keep an eye on things. When I took over as headmistress, I had them extend all the windows down to the ground.”
“Wow,” I say, still looking out at the courtyard.
There are trees providing shade and cool air, and students sitting below them reading, studying, laughing.
The cobblestones lead off for what feels like forever, the university towering over everything.
Little sidewalks cut off in every direction toward different entrances, probably for different departments—art, history, math. “The campus is gorgeous.”
“You’ll have a chance to admire it. I’ve asked our Student Body President to show you around before your first class.”
I go to decline, but she speaks again before I can.
“I have your class schedule here.” She turns, grabbing a paper off her desk, then she leans on the edge to look it over. “I have to admit, your transcripts are incredibly impressive, Sage. Although, there are a few classes you were taking back in California that we don’t offer here.”
She licks her thumb, flipping through the papers to find what she’s looking for. “I’ve matched you with some similar classes, though, all aligning with your major so you can still graduate at the same time.”
“Oh.” I knot my fingers together behind my back. “Okay, I guess. What classes will I be taking?”
“Well…” She meets my eyes, handing me the sheet of paper. “Here, look over your schedule and make sure everything looks okay. Everything was approved when your tuition was paid, but I’m sure we can move you around if necessary.”
She levels me with a look, trying to read how I’m absorbing the information. I just nod while I take a big breath, and then I read through the schedule. Most classes are the same that I was taking at UCLA, like she said, and there are some others I don’t necessarily hate.
“Everything looks fine.” I meet her gaze again. “Thank you so much.”
“Great!” she says, then I’m hit by a small breeze as the door opens, followed by the intrusive, overwhelming smell of straight-up man. Notes of amber and smoke hit my senses all at once, and I spin around on my heel to look at who it is.
“Here’s your tour guide!” Headmistress Tallen says from behind me, but she might as well be speaking French because I’m too busy getting sucked into the atmosphere of this guy to register that she’s still here. Staring back at me, with a narrowed gaze and twisted lips, is six feet of destruction.
Dark eyes pin me in place, making my knees weak and my lungs squeeze.
He’s slim, tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves and the collar of his T-shirt, and the chain around his neck is thick and heavy.
Pillowy lips surrounded by a light stubble on his razor-sharp jaw leads to a throat that looks like it was carved from marble.
I find myself swallowing thickly as my eyes stay fixated on the column of his throat, hoping he’ll swallow with me so I can watch it move.
He turns his head, giving me a good view of the vein that runs up the side of his neck, and I swear to God, my hands start tingling with the need to trace it with my fingertip. I snap my head up to meet his gaze when Headmistress Tallen starts talking again, pulling me out of my lust-filled haze.
“This is Kaiden Thorne, our Student Body President.”
“You’re the Student Body President?!” I gape, but slam my mouth shut as I realize I just said that out loud. When he grins at me, I inwardly cringe.
“Yes.” He slides his long fingers into the front pockets of his black jeans, rocking back on his heels as his head drops to the side. A small smirk plays on his lips, and it makes my stomach flip with embarrassment.
He doesn’t look the part; he looks like trouble.
When our eyes lock once more, he shows me his teeth in a smile so sinister that chills run from my head to my toes.
He’s dripping swagger, confidence and arrogance, giving me bad boy vibes that have my muscles clenching.
I want to peel his skin back and see what lives there, see if he’s just as cocky underneath it all.
He holds a hand out toward me. “Nice to meet you…?”
Biting the inside of my lip, I put my hand in his. “Sage.”
He smirks and drops my hand after a breath. “Sage.”
I grit my teeth so hard they might shatter as he pushes the door to the office open, this one heading out into the quad, holding it so I can pass by him and into the sun. I’ll be the first person to admit that I’m uncomfortable right now. I’m tingling all over with curiosity.