Chapter Twenty Eight
Morning slithers into the room slowly, pale light filtering through the curtains and stretching across the carpet until it starts to creep over the bed.
For a moment, I stay still, staring at the unfamiliar walls while my brain reboots.
The quiet here is different from my bedroom back home.
There’s no faint hum from the servers which were constantly running, no ceiling fan spiraling overhead.
It’s a wonder I managed to sleep so well, but I’ll attribute that to the warm body curled into my side.
At some point in the night, Meg rolled over to face me.
She’s now sprawled halfway across my chest, one arm hooked across my ribs.
Her hair is a complete mess, strands spread across the pillow and my shoulder, my T-shirt twisted around her waist. Yet it’s her face I openly stare at.
Dark lashes against her cheeks, her brows relaxed and lips slightly parted.
She’s so peaceful, a state I’m desperate not to disturb.
Easing myself out from beneath her as carefully as possible, I slide a pillow into the vacated space.
Meg shifts, taking the offered pillow and hugging it to her chest. Once free, I cross the room and wake the monitors sitting on my desk.
The IT department did a good job at fulfilling my requests, providing a coffee machine, dual screen computer, a network booster and the promise of equipment upgrades every six months.
The screens flicker to life, bathing the suite in cool blue light, and Hollowbrook’s student portal pops up immediately.
I type in the login details I was provided, poking around out of curiosity, scanning schedules and message boards while my brain slowly comes online.
I open the student forum, my hand twitching to power up that coffee machine but not wanting to wake Meg prematurely.
Leaning on my fist instead, I click the top pinned thread.
Vigil for Laura Hopkins
I frown slightly, leaning closer to the screen.
Laura Hopkins? The thread opens to a wall of photos from a ceremony that apparently happened last night.
A floral archway, candles, a crowd of students gathered beneath strings of lights.
My stomach tightens as I scroll further, glancing over the comments listed underneath.
She was an idiot for going to the Calloway party. Nothing good ever happens there.
Another girl missing from this campus??? Are we cursed or just stupid?
First Meg O’Connor, now this?
My fingers pause on the keyboard, confusion sinking in. I’ve clearly missed something. Grabbing my phone, I do a quick search on Laura whilst simultaneously scrolling through more comments on the monitor.
Didn’t Meg take her to the party? Great girl code – not.
Convenient she’s back and someone else gets grabbed. #PreplannedSwap
Maybe Meg finished what he started. She’s clearly not in her right mind.
A slow, cold realization of what Meg has been facing here spreads through my chest. I sit back in the chair, reading through the article on my phone more carefully. Meg told me she’s been through hell, but I figured it was from usual campus bullshit.
Fuck, this is why I don’t switch off my screens.
This is why I can’t step out of surveillance mode.
I shifted my focus instead of checking in on Meg, following the advice of a stupid fucking cat.
Miss Lola worked her feline psychic mind powers on me and said Meg needed time, that she would be okay while I sorted myself out.
Yet, this all happened while I was busy crossing three states and hacking admissions.
Leaning back, I rub a hand over my face.
“Jesus, Meg,” I mutter quietly. Behind me, the bed rustles.
I glance over my shoulder, watching the shift beneath the blankets, an arm blindly reaching across the mattress before she realizes the space beside her is empty.
Meg’s eyes blink open, still hazy with sleep as they land on me across the room.
“You’re up early,” she murmurs. Her voice is rough with sleep, her bones cracking as she stretches. I swivel slightly in the chair.
“You didn’t tell me about Laura,” I say softly. I don’t mean to ambush her, and the blame is also on me. I should have checked in sooner. Either way, Meg freezes mid-stretch, then she sighs and drops her arms.
“I know. I think…I just wanted a single night with you, selfishly, before it all came crashing down again.”
For a moment I don’t say anything. The tired honesty in her voice brings me out of my thoughts, and I push back from the desk, the chair rolling quietly across the floor. Meg watches me approach, her shoulders already slumping like she’s bracing herself for judgment she expects.
When I reach the bed, I don’t give her the chance to retreat into that spiral.
I simply pull her forward, my arms wrapping around her before she can protest, tucking her head beneath my chin.
She stiffens for half a second, then melts into the hold with a shaky exhale, her fingers pressing against my chest. I rest my cheek against the top of her head, one hand smoothing slowly over her back in quiet circles, letting the silence do the work while she gathers herself in the safe space between my arms.
“You have officially used up your quota for calling yourself selfish. Or any falsity, in fact.” Meg huffs softly against my chest, the sound vibrating through my ribs as she lifts her head to glare up at me.
The look would be more intimidating if her hair wasn’t still sticking out in every direction from sleep and if she wasn’t wearing my shirt, swarmed in my own scent.
I’ve never thought of myself as animalistic until this moment.
There’s a shift of pure alpha energy bursting within me that I need to tamper before I do something stupid, like bite her.
Oblivious, Meg just studies my face, her eyes searching for the hint of a joke, but I don’t give her one.
Eventually the tension drains from her shoulders and she leans back enough to swipe her fingers beneath her eyes.
On cue and much to her mortification, her stomach grumbles.
“Ugh, I need to go back to my room to wash and change. Meet me for breakfast?” She glances up hopefully.
I nod, pressing a kiss to her temple to avoid her stunning blue gaze.
There’s a part of this whole lifestyle change that I haven’t allowed myself to consider yet.
The people. I manage to suppress a shudder, shifting to let Meg out of bed.
Rather than grabbing her pantsuit, she opens my drawers and asks if she can borrow a pair of my shorts.
I agree, of course, already making a mental note to get a few sets of clothes and a toothbrush to keep here.
That’s how people move in together, right?
Convenience overriding courtesy, and next thing we know, she’ll be sleeping over every night without the need to leave.
For now though, we make a plan to meet at the courtyard cafeteria, and I’m walking her to the building entrance, watching as she disappears down the path.
Only once she’s fully out of sight do I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
There’s already life buzzing around, doors closing and chatter sounding through the hallways.
I return to my room, avoiding the eyes of everyone I pass, shutting the door and briefly leaning back against it.
Come on, Thiago. This is not the time to let a little social anxiety freak you out.
It’s not like you haven’t seen anyone other than Old Woman Rosa and the cleaner in the past six months.
There was that mailman who needed a signature for your new core processor, and we’re practically besties with the food delivery driver.
Pep talk done, I force myself away from the door to dress.
I check on a few emails, making sure I don’t have any outstanding jobs, before prepping my bag for the day.
I’ve got back-to-back computer tech classes and a professor who I already know can’t wait to meet me.
Building on the confidence I fake until it’s got legs, I run a hand through my hair and exit my room again.
This time, my shoulders are pushed back and a two-finger salute is ready for the girl who leaves the room opposite mine.
“How ya doing?” I grin, sidestepping and leaving without waiting for an answer.
That’s how I make my way across campus, nodding my head and winking greetings.
Students drift between lecture halls clutching coffee cups and expensive backpacks, their conversations falling quiet as I pass.
I ignore the prickle of eyes on my back, striding with self-assured steps.
Streams of light coat campus, painting it as a completely different landscape from last night.
Again, my arrival after dark wasn’t by accident.
I’d wanted to enter quietly and under the radar, ready to face this carefully staged set for rich overachievers after a full night’s rest. I refuse to shrink beneath the prestige, acting as if I’m not a high-school dropout who had to blackmail my way in. My mom would be so proud.
Stone buildings climb toward the morning sky, wide paths cut through perfectly trimmed lawns and the scent of coffee beans guides me towards the cafeteria without the need for the map on my phone.