3. Claire
3
CLAIRE
I roll my eyes at the text exchange so far tonight.
Noah: How much????
Me: 150. I bought everything I needed for school, and had some money to spare to get myself a new charger and phone case, too.
Noah: That's insane. Who buys a fifty-dollar notebook and spends all that on a complete stranger?? I don't like it, Claire. That kid's uncle was into you, I bet. Did you encourage him?
Me: Don't be ridiculous. I did something nice for Octavia, and they wanted to do something nice for me. When I said I couldn't afford the notebook, he guessed, rightly, that I don't have much money, that's all. People are rich-rich in this town. It was just spare change for him, I bet.
Noah: People don't give away 200 bucks for nothing.
Me: They do, every day, actually. It's called charity.
Noah: So you're fine being a charity case now?
Me: I helped them. They helped me. That's not charity.
I sigh into my pillow. When Noah tries to call, I ignore it.
Noah and I have literally been together forever. He's the grandson of my grandma's best friend, Hilda. As there weren't many children in her circle, my grandma made sure we played together all the time, so I'd have a friend growing up. We shared a toddler pool, learned to write together, and when we were fifteen, he kissed me. We just made sense.
Noah's studying art at Michigan State University. I applied there too, but it was the backup of my backup school, while for him, it was always the plan. His dad lives inEast Lansing, so he could stay there, save money, and work on his sculpture.
He was not impressed when I said I'd leave for California, despite the fact that Rothford gave me the academic funding equivalent of a red carpet. Staying close would have been more expensive for me. We still argued about it for days. In the end, I thought it would be best to part ways at that point, because he's right: a long-term relationship for years would suck. But the moment I mentioned it, he cried, apologized for arguing, and assured me we could make it work.
I still wasn't sure. His first point was good . But my grandmother sat me down and proceeded to tell me that I'd be a massive bitch for dropping the one boy who'd always had my back just to move on to bigger and better things in Thorn Falls—not in so many words, but the meaning was there. She was right, naturally. And I hadn't wanted to break up with Noah to find a new boyfriend; just to give us some space and room to grow while we were apart. If we were meant to be, wouldn't we find our way back to each other?
"He's been patient with you. He promised he'd wait until your wedding night, like a gentleman," my grandmother reminded me, staring me down. "He's a good boy. The best. And you'd risk that, in the off chance you might find a better one?"
"I don’t—" I stuttered. "I don't want to find some guy. I'm going to the best school to study, and get a good job. Earn a good living. And that happens to be over five hours away. Neither of us can afford frequent round trips."
All my reasons felt like feeble excuses. So, I just dropped it.
I've been away for a week, and I'm already dealing with a headache over my actions.I'm glad I didn't tell him Darius Keller was young, and rather handsome, too. I would never hear the end of it. As I was speaking about a roughly six-year-old kid and her uncle, I know he pictured a middle-aged man. I'm probably a shitty girlfriend for not giving the details, but it's not worth the argument.
I mostly told him about my day to gush over my new notebook, and it turned into a whole thing .
He wasn’t jealous back in school. He was popular, as a hockeyplayeralso excelling in art, while I was the weird loner nerd always studying. But since that first argument about my going away, he's been territorial as hell.
It's not just that I don't like it, I also don't get it. There have been girls drooling over him for ages and I never cared. Why would it matter, even if some stranger had spoiled me with dubious intent? I wasn't going to act on it.
Besides, someone like Darius Keller does not need to buy anyone's affection. Not with his looks and the clear appearance of wealth.
I find myself entering the name in my search bar on impulse. None of what I see, or read, is all that surprising.
He's the son of Arlo. Yes, that Arlo, the top model. He might have peaked about twenty years ago, when he was in his twenties himself, but he occasionally features on the covers of magazines, and he's still drool-worthy.
I see it in him, the golden blond looks, the confidence, the camera-ready smile.
Predictably, both he and Octavia have modelled for his father's brand since they were in diapers. I follow toddler, children, teenager, and more recent ads, growing sexy, moody, topless in the last few years.
When I close the browser, I am certain the two-hundred-dollar gift was spare change, inconsequential to someone like him.
Noah sent another few demanding messages in the meantime. But after a break, he finally wrote one last text.
Noah: I'm sorry. I know it's probably nothing. But it's hard, you know? You're so far away.
Me: I get it. I wouldn't want a pretty girl to buy you things, either.
Noah: Wait. Is he pretty?
I sigh.
At least, it's the last I've seen of that man. Top models and heirs to fashion empires do not hang out with the likes of me. It's a miracle we existed in the same space for a while. He might as well be from another planet.
* * *
O h, fuck.
I stare in disbelief at the man in front of me, leaving the campus library just as I enter it, a steaming cup in hand.
"You're here," I say dumbly.
"Evidently." He smiles. "Claire, wasn’t it?"
I make myself swallow, willing my brain to kick into gears. "Darius, right?"
"Most people call me Keller. Which is highly confusing, as there are two other Kellers on this campus, but whatever."
I nod like it makes sense. "Keller."
"You're new here?" he guesses.
"Yeah, starting next week. Accounting. You?"
"I'm on my last year. MBA."
It occurs to me that we're blocking the entrance when someone has to circle us to get into the automatic doors.
"I should get going. I figured I should familiarize myself with the place before school properly starts."
"Make sure you familiarize yourself with the cafe first. They make great coffee. The library's a bit of a maze, but the digital indexing helps. Make sure you askWalter to show you how it works."
"Walter?"
"The main librarian working today. He's a nice guy."
"Right." I clear my throat. "How's Octavia?"
"A menace to herself and society, as usual." He smiles again. "Thank you for asking, Claire."
"Of course. She's a character, for sure." Christ, I need to move. "Well, then?—"
"There's a party tonight, at my cousin's house. Just a few people getting together before the start of the semester. You should come. Get to know everyone."
"Oh. Erm, I mean, I'm not much for parties, and I don't know my way around yet…"
"The Wyvern House. It's right across from the dorms, can't miss it." Keller removes two black cards from his back pocket and hands them to me. "Bring someone if you'd like. Roommate, boyfriend, whatever."
He's not hitting on me, then. He's just welcoming. I smile back.
"I mean, maybe?" It's not the worst idea, to get to know a few people before school starts.
I've barely seen my roommate, but I could ask her if she's there when I get back.
"Thank you, Keller. And thank you so much for the notebook, and the gift card, too. You didn't have to get me anything. It truly was my pleasure to spend a few minutes with Octavia."
"I know," he assures me. "See you later, little ghost."
I walk in, still feeling out of sorts. I really didn't think I'd see him again.
I stare at the cards in my hand. They're fancy. Shiny business cardstock, with an ouroboros stamped in foil at its center.
Welcome to the wyvern's den.
Who uses this kind of invitation for a college party? Rich, uppity folk, that's who.
It occurs to me that I was right to think of Keller as belonging to another world. The kicker is, for some reason, I'm the one who landed on his planet, somehow.
I look back, and he's still at the door, staring at me.
He's no longer smiling. Those blue eyes seem darker in the distance, somehow.
Fuck . If I tell Noah I saw him again, I will never hear the end of it.
I definitely shouldn't go to that party.