Chapter 6
6
RAINE
I rub my eyes and sip a latte I got from the Moses dining hall last night. As I rewatch every vlog I’ve posted since arriving at GU, my frustration mounts. Killian could’ve told me which one he wanted taken down, but of course, that would’ve made things too easy.
There’s only one time when I mention that I come from a blended family, but I say all my step-siblings are a lot older. I purposely left Killian out.
There is absolutely nothing objectionable in any of my videos. The only thing I could do to delete the one Killian doesn’t like is take down all my content. But that would mean all the time I spent filming and editing would be for nothing. The video about my acceptance to GU where I laid out all the steps of the application process has gotten a ton of interest and engagement. I’m up to three-thousand likes on it, and a hundred comments. A lot of them were from high school seniors who want to apply. I don’t want to take that post away from people.
I kick the edge of my white plastic drawer cart in frustration, and my old snow globe falls onto the rug. I didn’t realize it was perched on the edge of the storage cart, and a soft gasp escapes my lungs. I reach across the rug to pick it up. Intact, thank God.
The words on the base are worn off from being constantly handled by little girl fingers. The Christmas tree souvenir came from Rockefeller Center when I was five. Until a couple of years ago, I kept it in the center of my dresser. Falling plastic snow inside it was my first indication that Killian was sneaking into my room at night. Later, I’d found it knocked on the floor. Fortunately, the weathered plastic didn’t crack, but I’d tucked it away in my sock drawer after that for safekeeping.
Now I have a new, beautiful snow globe made of dark brass that has built-in LED lights and a music box. I won it in a contest and absolutely love it. Yet, I’m still sentimental about my Rockefeller Center one.
Here in Meredith Hall, I don’t have as much storage as at home. After wrapping the old snow globe in a GU hoody for protection, I place it in the corner of a drawer.
I’m stiff from being hunched over my phone. After stretching, I walk to the edge of the rug to stand in front of my wall shelves. In the center, between stacks of books, is the expensive brass snow globe. Eyeing the carousel inside, I run a finger over the base. Killian handled this one, too. Sometimes, I would wake feeling cold and was greeted by the sound of tinkling music. I would know he’d come and gone through my window. Even when he wasn’t living at Marianne and my dad’s house, he came and went as he pleased.
Beautiful Killian. A nightmare and a dream rolled into one.
I blow out a breath and decide to break my rule of never texting him. When I open our text thread, I look at the one he sent me at one-thirty in the afternoon.
Killian: times up.
I clench my teeth. He’s such a jerk.
Killian wasn’t even supposed to be at GU. He was accepted to MIT, which is where he once said he wanted to go. I didn’t realize he’d even applied to Granthorpe. Now, suddenly, he’s here .
After rubbing my tired, burning eyes, I type a message to him.
Raine: Went thru GU posts. All seem fine. Which video do u want down?? Just tell me date n I’ll do it.
A return message from him pops up.
Killian: In person u come over
I stiffen. I don’t want to see him in person. Being anywhere near him is dangerous.
Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I frown. Killian lives off campus. I only know the address because Marianne told me in case there was an emergency.
I went by his place, just to see what it looks like. It’s actually a huge building. From the street, it feels eerie because of the shadows it casts and the lack of windows on the upper half of the old brick building.
Going inside that place to be alone with Killian is a hard no . My heart beats a drum of objection in my chest. Don’t do it!
But if I don’t go, I know what will happen. He’ll come to me.
His showing up in the courtyard was proof of his ability to get to me. A badge swipe is necessary to get in, so only residents are supposed to have access. But there he was, sitting alone on the picnic table, proving he can go wherever he wants.
Such bullshit. Could he have gotten through the gate that leads into Meredith Hall, too? Even the guys from Moses can only get in and out of the gate attached to their own hall, not through ours. Boys are allowed in Meredith’s lobby during the daytime, but they have to be buzzed in and are captured on the lobby cameras.
If Killian comes for me, he won’t enter through the lobby. He’ll come through my window, so he’s not seen.
I check again to be sure my window’s locked.
Sighing, I stretch my neck. During my first weeks on campus, I almost forgot he was here. I never spotted him hanging around. My life chugged along smoothly. College life was great .
I can’t see a way to avoid going to his place. If I insist on staying outside while we talk, that’ll provide some protection.
As I rise and change out of my pajama top and shorts, I think about that night that started us on the path that led to this… “to blood being spilled” as Killian whispers when he refers to what happened.
At the time, Killian and I were friends. Of sorts.
When my dad and I moved into Marianne’s, Dad considered sending me to the public high school. Marianne wanted me to go to St. Sebastian’s where she “knew everyone.”
At St. Seb’s, Killian was very popular. He was a star athlete in football and rowing. He’d won a place in a US junior rowing program, beating out everyone else in the state, including boys who’d been training for much longer.
When I was first trying to fit in at school, I asked him about people. From his responses, he seemed to hate everyone there. “Useless.” “Moron.” “Bitch.” “Asshole.”
Despite his judgements and my nerves, I made friends from the drama department right away. That’s who I sat with at lunch. They didn’t seem to mind my canvas pants or thrifted shirts.
One day at lunch, Killian ignored the athletes’ table and sat next to me. He wasn’t friendly toward my friends, but that’s who he seemed to have come to talk to. Or interrogate, really, since he asked blunt, blatantly rude questions, even about sexual orientation. He didn’t smile once.
When he left halfway through the hour, I shook my head. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“Nothing physical, that’s for sure,” my friend Robin said wistfully. When questioned, Robin had been quick to tell Killian he was gay. “Too bad he wasn’t here to fish for new conquests. He’s already picked her out.”
I stared at Robin. “What do you mean?”
“He sat next to you.”
“And he didn’t say one thing to me.”
The corner of his mouth curved into a small smile. “No, because he came to size up the competition.”
“He’s kind of my brother. ”
“And he’s kind of not.” Robin chewed on a carrot stick and cocked his head.
Shaking my head, I frowned. “I don’t even think he likes me. Or anyone. Hating everyone is kind of his thing.”
“Yeah, but in this case, I don’t think it’s about liking you.” Robin turned his head to study Killian, who was scowling, as usual. “Of everyone in the school, I’d bet money he hates you the least.”
That caused everyone to laugh.
I rolled my eyes. “Lucky me,” I murmured, shaking my head again. Deep down, though, I wanted it to be true. I wanted to feel special.
“New kid in school” me had no idea what was to come.
Standing alone in my dorm room now, I smooth down my hair, trying to mentally prepare myself for seeing him. It’s like being chased by a rabid dog toward the edge of a cliff with jagged rocks below. Deciding to jump with the hope of landing between them is crazy, but so is stopping to be mauled. Either way, ending up irrevocably damaged is inevitable.