Chapter Twenty Eight #2
I find a spot outside the main doors where I can lean against a railing and people watch.
It’s easier to pretend I’m my avatar from Runeborn, watching villagers pass and knowing they’re just background players, programmed with meaningless backstories.
The main character appears a few minutes later, crossing the courtyard with a backpack slung over one shoulder and her lacrosse bag bumping against her hip.
She’s changed into athletic leggings and a fitted top, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail that swings as she walks.
I mourn the loss of the sleepy girl in my T-shirt for merely a second, as Meg spots me and her eyes brighten.
She stops a few feet away from me, taking in my limited edition kicks, calf-length tube socks, baggy shorts and fitted tee, as if she’s conducting a quick inspection.
“Congratulations. You just survived your first twenty minutes at Hollowbrook. I’m impressed.”
“I’m thriving, actually,” I reply easily, pushing off the railing. Best she sees the grin I put on rather than the slight tremor working its way through my hands. “I’ve only been judged by about twelve strangers so far.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a slow morning here,” Meg smirks, her brows jumping.
“Really? We’d better ramp up the gossip then.
” Before she can head into the cafeteria, I catch her wrist and tug her back toward me with exaggerated flair, spinning her lightly on the spot.
Meg lets out a startled laugh as her momentum carries her straight into my arms, her bag bumping against my hip.
I lean with the motion, dipping her low like we’re in some ridiculous ballroom dance instead of standing in the middle of a campus walkway.
Her ponytail swings toward the ground, blue eyes widening in mock outrage as she grabs my shoulders for balance.
“Thiago!” Ignoring the protest, I bend forward just enough to press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before pulling her upright again. Meg stares at me stunned for half a second, then she smacks my arm.
“You’re going to be the death of me, you idiot!” she laughs, rolling her eyes as she shoves me back a step. Her cheeks have picked up a faint flush, either from the sudden dip or the attention we’ve gathered from a few nearby students. I lift both hands in surrender, grinning unapologetically.
Adjusting her bag straps and bumping her shoulder into mine, she heads into the cafeteria and I fall into step.
It’s overwhelmingly busy in here, the noise increasing and heat of bodies pressing into me from all sides.
Inhaling, I keep my focus on the back of Meg’s head, following her down the food line and answering questions of food choices when posed.
I don’t argue when she gets our food and coffee to go, knowing I wouldn’t make it to a table without tripping over any chair legs or screaming at anyone to back up.
We escape through a side door I wouldn’t have noticed on my own, emerging into a quieter corridor that curves along the edge of the building.
Meg leads the way down the hall like she’s walked this path a thousand times before, pushing open another door that spills us out into a small courtyard alcove tucked between two stone buildings.
The space is half hidden by vines climbing the walls and a pair of wisteria trees that act as canopies.
A couple of benches sit along the perimeter, which are all thankfully empty, the main campus reduced to a distant murmur beyond these walls.
Meg drops onto the low stone ledge circling one of the trees and hands me a paper bag.
“Your breakfast, sir,” she says with a mock flourish.
I sit beside her, taking the bag and pulling out a sandwich that smells significantly better than the stale popcorn I usually have for breakfast in my dusty bedroom.
The quiet out here is instant relief, the tension I didn’t realize I was carrying easing slightly from my shoulders.
Meg watches me as she takes a large sip from her takeaway cup.
“Are you okay?” she asks casually. I glance at her over my sandwich, not liking the weight of her attention.
She can ogle me, laugh with me, vent at me, cry on me, but I shift uncomfortably at the striking invasion of her blue eyes.
She’s trying to get a read on my mental state, knowing full well that I’m an introvert for a reason.
“Never been better,” I wink, taking a larger bite than necessary. It renders my mouth too full to speak, as intended. My eyes roam the area around us, hooking on the gentle sway of tiny purple flowers. A shuffle at my side places Meg right in my personal bubble, where I like her.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.” Her shoulder lightly bumps my bicep, her face turned up towards mine. I lean into her, swallowing my food and clearing my throat.
“I’ll let my guard down when you do,” I shoot her a knowing look. Meg’s tongue pushes against her inner cheek.
“Touché.” We knock our takeaway cups together and continue to eat in comfortable silence for a moment, the morning air cool against my skin while the caffeine from the coffee kicks my brain into functioning mode.
Students pass by occasionally at the far end of the courtyard, but no one wanders into the alcove itself.
Eventually, Meg wipes her hands on a napkin and glances at the time on her phone. “What lectures do you have today?”
“I’ve got computer tech a little later on.
First, I’m meeting with the head of the department to discuss the gaps I found in their firewalls, and then doing a site tour with the grounds manager.
Did you know there are currently fifty-seven surveillance cameras on this site and three of them aren’t working at all, whilst another eight are pointed at walls? ”