5. Chapter 5
I’m barely inside my apartment when the phone rings. It’s Lavender, a former friend of mine. Life gets complicated when a break-up happens. Tracy, Lavender, Mariah, and I were a tight little group of besties.
Tracy screwed Miguel. Kind of put an end to the Mod Quad. Then it turned out Lavender knew about the aforementioned screwing and didn’t tell me, so we’re no longer friends. Mariah, the last of the foursome, is living with Miguel’s cousin, Edgar, who decided he and Mariah should be couple friends with Miguel and Tracy. Edgar never wanted that when I was with Miguel and even if he had, he’s a lap dog who follows Miguel around like he’s Dr. Doolittle. And then there’s Spot, who still loves me, but Miguel got custody of him too.
“What?” I snap as I knock a pile of books and clothes off the couch so I can sit.
“Don’t hang up, Mina,” Lavender says quickly. “Please listen.”
I think about Reaper’s refusal to call me Mina and decide he has class because of it. “I was listening two weeks ago and yet I didn’t hear you telling me that Tracy and Miguel were sleeping together.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I was caught between a rock and a hard place. Tracy is my friend too.”
“Sure,” I say blandly. “Hanging up now.”
“No!” she squawks. “Just hear what I have to say and then I’ll go.”
I kick my foot up on the coffee table, watching as my sadly-neglected three pound hand weight rolls to the floor with a bang. “Sure. Say it then.”
“Miguel needs to know?—”
“Stop right there. I don’t give a flying fish fin what he needs to know.”
“When you left, did you take his?—”
I flip out. “You’re kidding me! Miguel wants to know if I robbed him? Why doesn’t the coward ask me himself? Or better yet, file a police report.”
“Mina—”
I’m on a roll now. “Yeah. That’s what he should do. Go down to the cop shop and complain to them about my treatment of him.”
“Mina, he would ask you, but you won’t talk to him.”
“He can go to hell. And you too for siding with the asshole.” I end the call and throw the phone across the room, which is only nine feet away. It smashes and the back falls off.
“Sorry, phone,” I mutter as I drop down off the couch and crawl over to it. There’s a small crack down the side, but it’s otherwise intact.
It accepts my apology by telling me that it’s time for bed. 4 AM and I have a class at nine. And a test later that I’m not prepared for. Doesn’t matter. It won’t be the first time I winged it. Or is it wung it?
I take a quick shower, throw the towel in the tub, then straighten out the blankets on the bed before I crawl under them. Gotta change the sheets, I think as I start to drift off to sleep. Even if Reaper never happens, I have to be ready in case he does.
Sleep comes quickly and because I forgot to set the alarm, I oversleep. Thank god I showered last night. Not you, God. The little g.
Maybe I should start thanking heaven, but is that really better? Maybe I could thank Jehovah. It would be like a joke between God and me.
I shove my head under the kitchen tap and wet my hair to get rid of the bedhead look that’s so popular these days, then grab my books, my bag and my phone and slam my way out of the apartment. A few seconds later, I slam my way back in, grab my keys, lock the door behind me and head to the college.
My first class is Leadership Strategies and when I arrive 20 minutes late, the professor gives me the stink eye. I plunk down in the only desk left, which is front and center. Five minutes later my mind drifts. First to my call with Lavender last night. Weird one. Miguel knows that the only thing I took that belonged to him was the key to his apartment. And I didn’t actually feed it to Spot. I brought it back when I knew Miguel would be out and exchanged it for the box sitting by the door with my name on it. How nice of Judas and his tart to do my packing. Spot wanted to come with me and I was tempted, but I’m already being harassed enough.
It’s why I went to Reaper in the first place. First Miguel trying to talk to me, then Tracy calling me until I blocked her. Then the early morning visit from the vampire. Then emails which I wouldn’t open. Now they’ve put Lavender up to it. I don’t know what they want or why they think I have it. If I wanted a reminder of my relationship with Miguel, I would have cut off his balls and had them pickled.
“Miss Belmonte, am I boring you?”
It takes me a few seconds to register that the prof is talking to me. “Yes,” I say as I gather my books and stand, ignoring the giggles and stares from the other students as I leave. I don’t need first class honors anyway. Just some know-how so Pops can retire and I can take over.
After I close the classroom door behind me, I head to the cafeteria and grab a triple latte and two chocolate eclairs. Sugar and caffeine. That should get me through the International Finance test that is a waste of my life here on earth, but hoop-jumping is a national past-time so I console myself that I’m not alone.
I’m licking the chocolate from the first eclair off my fingers when Edgar, Miguel’s cousin, slides into the chair across the table from me.
“Can’t talk right now,” I spit out. “Got a test I’m studying for.”
He peers at the unopened books lying next to my latte. “It’ll just take a minute, Mina.”
Mina used to be okay, but now I hate the sound of it. “No,” I say bluntly. “You already had a minute and you used it to screw me over. Get lost.”
I start to stand, but he grabs my wrist and squeezes it. “Please. It’s important.”
I look at his hand and wonder how many bones I could break if I slammed my text down on it, but I’ve already offended one professor this morning and I don’t want the entire campus to think I’m psycho. I decide to hold off on the bone crushing until we’re in a less public place.
On the other hand, I don’t have the mental fortitude today to listen to him whining at me. I yank my hand from his grip. “Lavender called me last night. I already told her that I have nothing of Miguel’s. So take a hike.”
“You are such a fucking bitch,” Edgar snarls. “You could give me two minutes of your time.”
I stopped listening at ‘fucking bitch’. I regretfully pick up my last chocolate eclair, wish it well, then squash it all over Edgar’s face. “There’s your two minutes, asshole.”
I grab my books and latte and strut out of the cafeteria, mad at myself for wasting a perfectly good eclair.