Chapter 19 #2
I reminded myself he was in class, and I had a ton of pages to digest and absorb before dinner.
Medical students had to follow a rigorous schedule, planning out the insane amount of work that was required.
All to heal patients in the future and hopefully not become patients themselves—after losing their mind and sanity during med school, of course.
My chair screeched across the floor as I sprang to my feet. I walked over to the same girl who had hushed me like a proper library loyalist.
She was curled into her seat like a little owl, surrounded by towers of books and an oversized Thermos covered in black cat cartoon stickers. Post-It notes dominated the small, portable board to her left.
“Excuse me?”
With her head buried in a book, she didn’t hear.
I caught the title: Anatomy 101. I grimaced, remembering the collective descent to hell that Amaia, Tiziano, and I had endured while studying for that subject.
Coffee had replaced water, and I swore we’d collectively hallucinated a talking skeleton at some point.
I lightly knocked on her desk. Her head jerked up, her glasses half-perched on the tip of her nose.
“Yes?” she huffed, rearranging her thick, green-rimmed glasses.
Up close, I noticed how pretty she was, with big hazel eyes framed by lashes so long they brushed the lenses when she blinked.
Her sweater sleeves were tugged over her hands, the tips of her fingers peeking out like shy little mice.
A triple-layered braid looped over her shoulder, dark and glossy like a sleeping panther’s tail, and her cheeks were perfectly pink.
“This might sound strange, but could you hold onto this for me?” I showed her my phone, nibbling my lip.
Her gaze dropped to it. “I don’t understand.”
“See, I’m having trouble concentrating today—”
“A study published in Scientific Reports found that the mere presence of a smartphone can lead to lower cognitive performance.”
“Are you quoting cognitive science at me?” This girl was me! Me, before I met him.
“I’m quoting science, period.”
I cleared my throat. “I was wondering, could you keep this for the next, say…” I glanced at my wristwatch. “Three hours? I’d owe you one.”
“If guarding your phone means you’ll stop talking to yourself, I’ll do it,” she said in a monotone voice.
“Sorry about that. I’m Yvaine, by the way. Third year, neuro.” I offered my hand.
She studied it before clasping it with her cool palm. “I’m Deiji,” she said. “Second-year. Surgery.” She sighed. “It means ‘daisy’ in Korean. You can call me that if it’s easier.”
I smiled. “I love that. And I get you. My name has Scottish origins, and many people call me Ivana or Yvonne.”
That earned me the tiniest smile, small but real. I liked her.
We chatted in quiet whispers, swapping war stories about Anatomy 101 until I offered to help her prep. And just like that, a phone detox turned into a new friend.
Phone locked away in her tote, I tore through pages like the machine I knew I was.
Later, I stretched my arms above my head, my back popping, and yawned.
9:30 p.m. My digestive system reminded me that it was ready to work. Time to get some well-deserved dinner!
Daisy was underlining some text with a ruler and a green pen when I approached. I waited until she finished. She handed me back my phone, spritzing sanitizer into both our palms.
“Thanks again. You saved my degree tonight.”
She giggled. “Hope you can fix your obsession, Yvaine!”
“I’m counting on it, Deiji.”
“I’ll be your phone guardian anytime.”
I wondered if she’d found her mate already. How nice would it be if they were someone from my crew?
The evening breeze greeted me with a soft, chilly kiss as I stepped outside the round door and opened my phone.
An avalanche of notifications flooded the screen. One missed call from Lachlan, four messages from Tiziano about tonight’s dinner, and two from Uncle Andrew.
Oh, and there were six texts and two missed calls from Rudolph.
6:23 p.m.
What makes you think he wants to kiss you? And come on, he can’t be THAT tall, unless you’re super tiny ;)
6:32 p.m.
Why ‘deadly’ hot? Is he the hottest guy you’ve ever seen? Bet he is
6:42 p.m.
Is that why you dumped that Sillas dude? Because you met your mate? Or are you gonna keep dating other guys anyway?
7:12 p.m.
Why aren’t you answering. What are you doing.
No question marks.
7:28 p.m.
I was joking about the kissing. I’m sure he wants to kiss you badly. Even if you’re a garden gnome.
7:32 p.m.
Yvaine.
My brain felt like it had been microwaved. That many texts in one day was more than I usually got in a week—and why he even bothered with those details about my mate was a mystery.
I exhaled, thumb hovering, then typed back.
Sorry, I was studying. I turned off the phone for a while.
He’s too much for my sanity, hence ‘deadly’ hot.
Before I could address the other messages, a reply popped up.
Since when’s being hot a bad thing? You’d prefer an ugly, five-foot mate? And why tf did you turn off your phone? That’s dangerous
Of course it’s not a bad thing! I don’t care about physical appearance. But a less pretty mate would keep the fan club at bay
That was meant to be funny. Rudy seemed to think differently.
So first you perv and drool all over your mate, developing a jaw fetish, fantasizing about ladders to kiss him without him getting scoliosis, and now you’re complaining he’s too hot cause you’re jealous of other girls? Logical…not
I laughed. Like, actually laughed. But the more we texted, the more I realized he wasn’t joking. His texts were missing emojis, nicknames. There wasn’t a single wink.
I’m certainly not the perv here, Mr. Booty Calls?. But apparently my mate is, judging by the number of girls around him today and how friendly he was.
He didn’t respond, so I sent another text while walking.
So, want to guess who he is? :D
I was buzzing. Practically bouncing on my feet as I walked home. I wanted so badly to ask questions about my mate. The last time I saw him was already eight hours ago! How was it possible to miss him so much already?
But Rudy was not helping me. At all.
In fact, the reindeer vanished for a good forty-five minutes. Meanwhile, I got home, threw on my home robe, and ate some pita, courtesy of Tiziano.
I don’t need to guess anything, you said it already: the dude is a gigantic giant, a player, and too hot for Your Highness.
Somehow, his words reeked of resentment. Maybe I was reading too much into it.
Texting wasn’t the best form of communication, anyway; things could be misunderstood way too easily. I was about to point that out when another War and Peace-length text popped up. So much for I hate texting, Rudy!
And how exactly do you know he’s a perv? Did he grope someone in front of you? Did he look at or talk to other girls after seeing you? You know, boys nowadays can have friends. Haven’t you thought about that, Miss I-Judge-Them-All? Let’s not forget, you were fucking someone, like, yesterday.
I scoffed.
Clearly, Rudy was resentful…or I was imagining things. The shock of finding my mate might have messed up my overused brain. There was also the possibility that he was just frustrated or bored and taking it out on me.
Today, he was surrounded by girls, and he didn’t seem to mind. Plus, he has a certain reputation for that. And he didn’t even talk to me, just stared and stormed off. I’m not making assumptions—those are just facts.
By the time I’d fed Zeus, Rudolph’s text was already waiting.
Oh poor bunny, maybe you scared him off with your scent. Or height. Or should I say shortness? I bet his fan club girls are all six feet tall without heels
I squinted at the screen. Was he seriously coming for my height again? I growled softly, feeling a sharp little sting in my chest.
I didn’t care if Rudy was having a rough day; I certainly wasn’t anyone’s emotional punching bag.
Why are you so grumpy and mean today, reindeer? Do you need more ashwagandha? Or a hug? Not from me.
I’m not grumpy, just stating facts too. And I don’t need any of your hashish
OKAY! Forget it. I only wanted to know a few things about him, since you’re from the same pack, but never mind. Go see your mate, maybe she’ll fix your unpleasant personality.
Rudolph is typing…
Pause.
Rudolph is typing…
Pause.
Things about him? You want to spy on him first and decide if you like him enough before you accept him as your mate?
What makes you so sure he wants you? Maybe your gnome energy isn’t his type. Especially since, as you said, he’s got a herd of she-wolves to choose from
His words landed like a series of stabs. Maybe it was stupid, but when you met your mate, and he didn’t even talk to you, it left a crack of insecurity somewhere. And Rudy just knew how to wedge himself right into it.
Well, I’m his mate. He’s supposed to like me, no matter my flaws.
Yeah? What about you, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to want him no matter what people say about him?
What was this?
Was Rudolph jealous that I’d found my mate? No. That didn’t make sense. He had a mate. He had never met me. And he probably hated shampoo. This wasn’t about me.
He must’ve been fighting with her or something. His own mess, projected all over me.
I never said I didn’t want him! Seriously, what is going on with you? If you have problems with your mate, go solve them with her, don’t hurl them at me!
Yeah, I have problems with my mate. But that doesn’t mean I have to help you stalk yours. Poor guy doesn’t even know what’s coming
Now I was seeing red.
It’s not like he called or showed up at my window either.
I just wanted to ask a few things about him, so when I talk to him, I won’t be going in blind.
That’s not stalking, it’s called being prepared.
You wouldn’t get it, but I plan things. Unlike some people who wing life with oily hair and aggression.
I watched the typing bubbles come and go like a pulse, probably to defend his hair. I chose to be the bigger person.
I’m here when you want to apologize. Until then, have a good life, Rudolph. Pro tip: relationships need communication. If your mate upset you, tell her instead of blaming it on the rest of the universe.
I turned off my phone and tossed it under the bed like it was contaminated. Afterward, I brewed some jasmine tea and curled up with Amaia and Tiziano on the couch. With them by my side, I felt a bit better, the tight knot in my chest loosening.
An hour later, I powered my phone back on.
My eyes widened at what welcomed me.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude
So, who’s this lucky giant you wanna spy on, and why are you so sure I know him? Dark Diamond is huge