Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Nyx
PAPERCUTS – WesGhost
My brakes squeak as I stop, and I manually roll down my window to speak to the security guard. Even he's judging me in the way his eyes scan my car. They pause on the brown tape keeping my mirror attached, and then come back to me.
"This is private property."
I’d probably react the same if I saw myself trying to get in.
"Hi." I smile awkwardly. "Yes, I'm a new student?" Apparently, that's a question, and I'm unsure of the answer because I still can't believe I have the opportunity to study here. "My name is Nyx Mayer. I have to sign some documents and pick up my uniform."
"Were you given a temporary passcode?" he asks politely.
"Oh, uh, hold on." I grab the pile of papers I received in the post a few weeks ago.
Summer went by fast. We're already at the end of August, with classes starting in a couple of weeks, but it feels like yesterday when Achilles toyed with me so callously.
I hand the sheet with the code to the security man.
With a nod, he opens the gate, and says, "Follow the sign to the visitors’ parking lot. You'll need to apply for on-campus parking by the end of September, or you won't be let in for classes. At least not in your car."
Wincing through a polite smile, I nod, throwing out a thank you as I roll forward.
The iron gates open to a long, slithering road that goes uphill.
As I drive slowly, making sure to follow the sign that says 10mph, I take in the woods surrounding the area.
It's beautiful during the day, but I bet it’s super creepy at night.
I keep my window down, grateful for the breeze since my car's air conditioning stopped working a long time ago. When I pass the sign for the visitors’ parking, the castle finally appears on top of the hill, and my heart stutters.
I've seen it online, have checked enough social media from the students here to know what it looks like, and I had the chance to visit the campus two years ago, but it still takes my breath away.
The red-bricked castle is a sight for sore eyes, and I can't wait to walk in there and discover what's hiding within it.
There aren't many people on campus at this time of year.
A couple of students who look old enough to be studying for PhDs.
Another security guard at the entrance of the castle, who asks me for my ID and passcode.
Only me. Not the girl who came in before.
Just the one who truly looks like she doesn't belong.
I follow the signs to the student affairs office, and after long minutes of turning down every hallway imaginable, I finally come face to face with an old wooden door that looks like it's going to get me back in time, but is open enough to show a woman in her fifties sitting behind a mahogany desk, typing away on a computer, surrounded by filing cabinets.
"Good morning," I say as I knock and step inside.
She looks up, and I catch her welcoming smile faltering when she takes me in. I have no doubt I don't look like I'm from around here.
"Good morning, can I help you?"
"My name is Nyx Mayer." I stride toward her desk, showing my admission letter with my student number and the other letter that invited me to an orientation day.
Looking down at the letters, she nods. "Right, the scholarship student."
The statement sounds like the kind of thought she should’ve kept inside, but she doesn't even realize it. It's clearly how they've been referring to me in the office.
"Just give me one sec," she says as she types on her computer again.
"So…" Tap. Tap. Tap. The printer behind her comes to life.
"You've got a scholarship for your tuition fees, if I'm correct.
" Tap. Tap. Tap. "But your accommodations aren't covered.
" She stops and looks up at me, as if waiting for my confirmation.
"Uh, yeah. I'll live at home. I'm from the area."
Her gaze travels from my eyes, all the way to my feet, and back up again.
"Well…" I chuckle awkwardly. "Not, like, this area, of course. But, you know, the North Shore is only twenty minutes away. I wonder if you can see the bridge from here—"
As she taps again, I'm grateful that she's stopping my word vomit.
She swivels in her chair and grabs the paper she just printed. "This is everything that's not included in your Virtuoso scholarship. You'll have to make sure to purchase the items before September 12th, which is when classes start. Your specific professors will add to that list."
Opening a drawer, she takes out what looks like a small black notebook and puts it on her desk with the printed papers.
"This is the Silver Falls University code of conduct. It has everything you should know about the college and its rules. That includes the dress code and"—she points at her head but is looking at my hair—"that's not allowed. So, you'll have to fix it before classes start."
For a second, I wonder what could possibly be wrong with my hair, and then I realize she means the color. I'm a natural brunette, but I always bleach half of my hair on one side, and color the other half black, including my fringe.
"Oh." That's all I can say as my fingertips come to touch the bleached side of my head. "O-Okay."
Another page prints, and she adds it to the pile. "I would actually suggest you get it sorted before this. It's the inauguration of the new construction site. There'll be a lot of journalists that day, and we don't really want you representing the university improperly."
"The new construction site?"
"Yes, the family who finances your scholarship also donated for a new building for the music department. Construction is starting, and they're inaugurating the beginning of the project. It's Saturday."
"Saturday, this Saturday? As in, the day after tomorrow?"
She looks at me, unimpressed. "Yes, this Saturday."
"I won't be able to come. I work on Saturdays, and it's too late to change my shift."
Not caring one bit, she taps on her keyboard once again. "It's compulsory for you. Part of your scholarship conditions is to attend any events organized by the people funding your studies. At least the public ones you're invited to."
I probably should’ve read the conditions of my scholarship more thoroughly, but I didn’t care when I got my letter. All I wanted was to be here, and I’m here.
"It sounds like they're just trying to show off their good deed."
"That's exactly what they're doing." She doesn't even stop her typing.
At least she's honest.
"Everything else you need is in here. I strongly suggest looking at the map of the campus ahead of classes starting. It's bigger than you think. Anything else I can help you with?"
That's it? No welcoming package, an SFU hoodie? A tour of the campus?
I shake my head, taking all the documents with me, and my eyes land on the latest she printed. The invitation to the inauguration.
I almost drop everything when I see the name on it.
The Duval family is proud to invite you to the inauguration of their new construction site.
As in, Achilles Duval. If his family is the one paying for my scholarship, he'll surely be there on Saturday. Just like that, my excitement comes back tenfold. As if it hasn’t already been proven that he's not someone I should want to be around.
I spend the evening alone on my sofa, looking at everything I've been given.
I wish Lena wasn't working so she could hold my hand through this shitshow.
The Duvals might be paying for my tuition, but everything else is stupidly expensive.
The uniform alone is over a thousand dollars.
Who can afford that? Well, they can, of course.
But who on a scholarship can afford designer uniforms? And why do they need to be designer?
"I'm going out, sweetpea," my dad says as he walks past the sofa I'm sitting on.
"What? Where?" I drag my eyes away from the numbers on the sheet, my jaw aching from how hard I've been chewing on my bubblegum.
He shrugs, opening his wallet and counting the cash he has in it.
"Just out with the guys."
He's either going to the bar or to gamble illegally somewhere, but I've long given up on getting the truth out of him. He's an addict, and there's no fixing that illness without help. But he doesn't want my help.
Shoving his wallet back in his jeans, he looks at me, smiling, wrinkles showing around his eyes and mouth. He's got a black eye from a bar fight last week, so I'm hoping he's not going back there, at least.
"It's Thursday night. Why don't you stay in with me?" I show him the sheet I'm holding. "Wanna do some math together to see how poor we really are?"
His throaty laugh turns into a cough, and I roll my eyes at him.
"You smoke too much."
"I drink too much, too." He chuckles sadly. "See you later, sweetpea."
A sound of exasperation leaves me, and I go back to the calculator app on my phone.
The pass for the parking lot is almost the same as our rent here.
Driving to college every day is going to cost me everything just to park there.
But it's not like I could ever afford their campus accommodations.
I open the map app on my phone and check for the nearest free parking to the campus.
A half-hour walk, not counting the path uphill once you pass the SFU gates.
I guess I'll leave an hour earlier than anticipated.
A knock on my door startles me, and my phone pings at the same time with a text from Chase.
Chase: It's me.
He knows I don't open the door to anyone unless I'm told in advance who's knocking. We've had too many men come here to collect. Chase being one of them at one point.
"Hi, Nyxie." He smiles as he walks in, his eyes devouring me before his lips do.
"Hello." I giggle once he finally lets me go.
He pulls out the bubblegum he just accidentally stole out of my mouth. "I hate that shit. You're not a kid. Just buy normal fucking gum."
I shrug. "I like the taste and how hard it is to chew."