Chapter 9 Silent Stacks
Chapter nine
Silent Stacks
Rich/poor stalkers
It’s still early. The library opens in about an hour and there is still so much left to clean before I can go to class.
I am attending Wexford University on a partial scholarship.
It is a private and expensive college that specializes in business.
I want to get a bachelor’s degree in business administration, but I don’t have the money to outright pay for school.
So I am on a work study program. I clean the library every morning and I get to attend classes and get my degree.
There aren’t many of us on the work study program, so we stick out like a sore thumb.
Most of the people who go here are entitled little rich kids and look down on people like me.
They don’t care that I was the top of my class and I still am, they only care how much money I have.
I tutor people for cash right now, and you wouldn’t believe how much these people will pay to not fail.
Most of them only care about passing, so I help them.
It’s allowed me to save up a lot of money, so if I go through a period of time where I’m not tutoring that I still have that to fall back on.
When I’m on breaks from classes, the school still allows me to work, only they pay me an actual paycheck.
The dean of the school was a friend of my fathers before he passed away from cancer five years ago. He’s made sure that I’m set up but not even he can stop the other people from torturing me. They all have a stupid nickname for me. I’m satisfied no one actually knows my name.
Luckily, everyone gets their own dorm room here. I don’t know if I would survive sharing a room with any of these girls. All of them are so focused on fucking and gossiping that they make up most of the people I tutor.
I have all of the trash thrown out and books put away.
Now I just have to vacuum and wipe the tables down.
I start downstairs and vacuum so I can end upstairs.
By that point people should be coming in.I don’t like being down there when they start coming in.
I get through everything and get started upstairs before I hear someone come in.
They are thirty minutes early, but whatever.
I’m just here to clean, not be a security guard.
I get done vacuuming upstairs and start wiping down the tables when I hear someone approaching.
I have one earbud in but I take it out and shove it in my pocket so I can make sure I am paying attention.
It makes me nervous being in here alone.
No one has tried anything, but they have said enough to let me know that I need to be vigilant and aware of my surroundings.
“Mmm. Look at the ass on Charity, man,” Connor Evans says from behind me. I am leaning over a table slightly to wipe it off but suddenly I feel exposed and on edge with them so close.
“I can think of a few ways to use that ass with her bent over like that,” Dillon Mitchell says.
Connor and Dillon are the two richest people here.
Their parents own an equity firm together in New York City and have done very well for themselves.
That means they spoiled the fuck out of their kids and turned them into privileged little shits who think women should just fall at their feet.
The real problem is they know they’re hot so it should show through their ego and childish behavior.
“My name is Chloe, but you were close,” I say, turning to another table.
“So, when are we picking you up?” Connor asks.
“What?” I ask, turning to face him.
“When are we picking you up?” he asks again with a smirk.
“Never… the fuck?” I ask but don’t wait for a response before walking away to get the last table.
“Oh, come on. We will pay for dinner,” Dillon says. I ignore him and wipe the table down. When I turn they are both directly behind me.
“No,” I say. “I am not going anywhere with you two. Go find someone else to annoy.”
I try to push past them but they both grab me and pull me back in front of them. I put my hands up to show that I’m not fighting so maybe they’ll get their hands off me. “Why?” Connor asks.
“You call me Charity. Why the fuck would I want to have dinner with two entitled assholes who have done nothing but pick at me for the last four years?” I ask. “You have an entire school of girls to pick from. Go take one of them to dinner. I’m sure they’ll bend over a table for you.”
They both stare at me in disbelief that I’ve turned them down.
They’re not used to being told no. This very well could go terribly for me.
Sometimes men don’t like being told no, so they just take what they want anyway.
I am not getting that vibe from them right now, but they did just grab me when I tried to walk away.
“Do I need to try a different language?” I ask. “Here… here it is again in Spanish…. no… now go away.”
I push past them and go to the supply closet.
I set my rag down and grab my bag. When I turn around, there they are again.
This is the moment that my heart rate doubles and starts pounding in my chest. I just trapped myself in a closet and by the looks on their faces, they don’t approve of me turning them down so harshly.
“Guys, I need to go to class,” I say softly, trying to not make waves.
“Why do you look so scared?” Connor smiles and gently grabs my chin to tilt my head back. “You’d figure the charity case would want to get in bed with those of a higher net worth than her. Tell me… if it’s not us… who are you going to let make you feel good?”
“No one,” I say. “I’m here to get a degree, not be a whore. Can I go now?”
I nearly trip over myself to backup and Dillon steps closer to us but stops and smiles. “She’s scared of us,” Dillon says. I keep my eyes on him as he backs me against a wall. Connor stays in the doorway but winks at me when I glance at him.
“Please leave me alone,” I say in a small voice. I don’t want to sound scared; it invites them to hurt me, but I also need to convey how much they’re scaring me.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Dillon says. “It’s not fun if you cry the whole time.”
“You have me trapped in a closet and it’s scaring me. If that’s not your intention, please let me leave,” I say as calmly as I can. He nods once before stepping to the side. I try not to run away but the moment I have an opening I dart out of the closet and down the stairs.
“Thanks, Chloe,” Sandy, the librarian, says. “Wonderful as always.”
“No problem,” I say. “Oh, can you lock the upstairs closet? I forgot but I need to get to class.”
“Yeah, girl. Go ahead,” she smiles.
I’m running a little late, but I have time to get in and sit down still.
It’s Friday and my last class of the day.
That means that I have the entire weekend to hide in my dorm and pretend I don’t exist. I look forward to tonight and the weekends when I can hide away and not have to deal with anyone.
I take all my meals back to my dorm because I don’t want to sit with anyone.
I intend to do that with dinner tonight.
Basically, everyone in my building is going to some stupid party so I won’t have to deal with their loud bullshit tonight.
I walk into Human Sexuality and sit down in my usual seat.
I am in the back by myself. No one bothers me back here and I can still hear the professor.
I open my laptop and set everything up to type my notes and within a few minutes, I sense that someone is sitting beside me.
I look up to find Connor and Dillon sitting on either side of me, blocking me into the row.
They don’t look at me, but they have a smirk on their faces.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble.
“Shhh. We are trying to learn about sex, Charity,” Dillon says.
I grit my teeth and sit back in my chair.
The professor starts her lecture and right away I know this is going to be a long hour.
We are talking about sexual kinks, and everyone is actively participating.
I end up getting called on more when everyone is participating in a conversation because I end up being the one that doesn’t talk.
“Chloe, what are some things that can shape sexual kinks for someone?” The professor asks.
“Trauma,” I say.
“Explain.”
“Well… It’s transference. More than sixty percent of survivors of sexual assault have a CNC kink. It’s a way they are trying to transform their trauma into something that can help them better process the event.”
“Isn’t that a rape fantasy or something?” Dillon asks.
“What? No. The first letter literally means consensual,” I say.
“It’s consensually giving up control while still being able to get out of the situation if they want.
It puts them back in control of their body while being able to explore the side of sex that allows the survivor to feel safe but out of control.
That level of control is dependent on the person and their partner.
It requires an immense amount of trust in each other because you have to be able to trust that when you say your safe word that they will stop immediately. ”
“You know an awful lot about this kink,” Dillon says with a smirk.
“So… a girl with a daddy kink might have that kink if she experienced trauma around her own father?” a girl asks me.
“Yeah. Obviously, that’s not always the case but she could be searching for something specific that she lacked growing up,” I explain.
“Your dad is dead. Do you have a daddy kink?” A guy asks from across the room.
“No,” I say flatly.
“Alright,” the professor says. “That’s very good, Chloe.” He goes on to ask other questions and Connor leans in to whisper in my ear.
“We’d love to help you with that little kink of yours,” he says. I glare at him before turning to my notes.
“Aww. You don’t want to miss out on an experience of a lifetime, do you?” Dillon asks.
“Both of you can go fuck yourselves,” I mumble.