Chapter 10 – Clover
Chapter Ten
Clover
I know Thomas isn’t as infuriatingly stupid as he acts.
His eyes are creepy, and very gray. I thought gray eyes were some kind of myth, but nope.
They’re definitely real and they look almost clear, like glass.
Thomas runs his hand over his sharp jawline.
Why do all the assholes look like that? Ridiculously fucking hot.
“You don’t seem like the monogamy sort. That’s all.”
His annoyingly posh accent drips with judgment.
I swear I could smack him right in that sharp jawline.
Naturally, professor Greene gravitates towards forcing me to work with my worst enemy on this campus…
Ugh. I’d even rather work with Juno and she just burned someone else in our dorm with her cigarette yesterday.
Still, we’re in class, and at least here, I need to fight my urge to debate Thomas Bainbridge and come up with something dignified to say.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I snap. “And if I had to judge by your looks, I’d say you look more like a man whore than anyone else.”
Thomas has the most infuriating response. Smirking. Who actually smirks? Annoying dicks in your Ethics class, that’s who. Maybe I could get away with shoving my pen into his hand…
Unfortunately, he seems to sense my dark instincts as I flick my pen around, and Thomas shifts his hand slowly away from mine.
“Perhaps we’re both wrong about each other,” Thomas says, killing my great comeback (which was just an insult) by diffusing the situation. I relax in my seat.
“Yes. You’re wrong about me.”
At least he’s admitting that he’s wrong.
“And you’re wrong about me,” he says, that voice making me look up at him for a second. Did his voice just change? There was something different there, something strange and familiar.
Our eyes flicker to each other and I quickly look away.
It was nothing. Just douche bag Thomas Bainbridge getting under my skin and me falling for it by giving him any attention at all.
I learned “don’t feed the trolls” early in life.
I’d rather not make eye contact with him and give him anything to feed on.
“I’m very monogamous,” Thomas says.
What a damned liar. A man who gets his friends to steal a woman’s underwear in public isn’t a fucking saint when it comes to women. Thomas strikes me as a “sneaky link” guy — not some abstinent dude.
“Really? I’ve never seen you with a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.”
Thomas chuckles. “A boyfriend. Yeah. No thanks. I’ve got five brothers. I’ve had enough of men.”
That makes me laugh – the idea that having brothers could change your sexuality.
“I have a little brother. And I still like men.”
He sounds friendly when he next speaks.
“Yeah,” Thomas says. “How young is your brother?”
He doesn’t know who I am. I mean, of course he doesn’t.
My parents run a video blogging channel on the internet.
We’re not real life famous, not famous enough for a billionaire’s child to know who I am.
I’m relieved, but I don’t want to give him any more information about me that might clue him in that he could discover every weird detail about my life with a Google search.
Everything’s out there — all my embarrassing secrets.
I just have to hope I can stay irrelevant here.
“We should probably stick to the assignment. Sorry. I’m just very… academic,” I say to him.
Thomas chuckles. Either he’s not buying my lie or he finds the idea of anyone considering this ethics discussion academic amusing.
I don’t get it. He rakes his fingers through his hair and lets the light brown waves cascade over his neck.
I smell something familiar on his hair, but as soon as I take the scent, Thomas leans away from me and the brief whiff travels too far away for me to pinpoint the smell. It’s familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Right. Well, we agree. Monogamy is the correct choice. Let’s construct our argument then,” Thoma says authoritatively.
He takes out a pen and begins writing in absolutely perfect cursive.
I forget for the next thirty minutes that he’s annoying as hell Thomas Bainbridge.
He’s just some guy in my class and he’s not completely stupid.
He cites his sources, he seems to have read nearly everything and he even gets the obscure pop culture references I make to tie our argument together.
We have a lot of time to work on this project, but it’s a big question, so we’ll need to write and rewrite our script together. We have to submit the script as an essay to our professor before our presentation a few days in advance, so we’ll have to be efficient.
When the bell rings to end class, Thomas turns to me with a warm smile, a smile that makes me forget he’s a complete prick.
“Can we finish this in the library later? I’ve got to meet up with Sylvia before practice, but I’ve got time after. Around 8?”
My stomach twists thinking about what happened to Sylvia, but also remembering how close she seems to be to Thomas.
I don’t get their friendship at all. I bet he likes Sylvia.
Everyone has a crush on Sylvia already, but she’s been clear and strict: no boys.
I doubt that would stop someone like Thomas.
“Library’s fine. Sylvia’s really upset about this morning. She could use a friend.”
“What happened?”
“Sorry. She asked me not to say,” I mumble.
He sounds really worried about Sylvia, but it’s not my place to share her personal business with Thomas. At least I can take pleasure in disappointing his annoying ass.
“Fucking hell.”
“Sorry. Bros before hoes, Thomas.”
“Am I the hoe in this situation?” He grumbles.
“Yup.”
“Hm. You might not want to say that.”
He stuffs his stuff into his backpack and starts walking toward the door. I hurriedly shove my notebook into my bag and follow him. What the hell did he mean by that?
“What the hell does that mean?”
I struggle to keep up with his long stride as I follow him out of class. Thomas turns to look over his shoulders with thick brown hair cascading in gentle waves down to his shoulders.
“Got your knickers. Hoe’s knickers.”
How the hell did he end up with my underwear? I was ready to beat Kit Barclay’s ass, but Thomas is about twice his size and pure muscle.
“That’s not funny, Thomas.”
He grins and sticks his hands in his pocket. I cringe. That’s probably where he has my underwear.
“Later, Clover…”
I lunge towards him and try to reach into his pocket, but he deftly avoids me, looking completely self-satisfied at the signs of my distress.
“Give those back, right now.
“Sure?”
I try to sound as menacing as possible and come out sounding about as forceful as a chihuahua.
“You know what? I will see you later Thomas.”
I turn the opposite direction and storm away. Great. He catches me off guard and I show up with the worst comeback I’ve ever come up with in my entire life. I could sink into the ground, but I don’t have time because of classes.
I look over my shoulder at Thomas one more time before he disappears. He’s… weird. I don’t know. We got along today in class, but then he had to make that stupid joke about my underwear and I remember everything that happened earlier. How could that be the same person? Ugh.
Kola meets me in the hallway to our next class together.
At least no one will force me to think about monogamy in Biology & Human Anatomy.
Sylvia isn’t taking any science classes this semester, so we’re alone here.
Kola’s dancing in the hallway with her headphones in until I approach, moving her hips and giving absolutely zero fucks about who sees her busting a move in public.
I wave her down and she stops dancing and turns her music off.
“What took you so long?” Kola asks, grinning and still jamming to a beat she can’t hear.
“Talking… class…” Change the subject Clover. “How’s Sylvia?”
“Girl, she’s freaking out. With everything that happened to her sister, she thinks someone’s trying to kill her.”
“I don’t blame her,” I said. “Who steals an entire underwear drawer and then writes ‘die bitch’ in lipstick on someone’s mirror? It’s crazy as fuck. Whoever did it had to have snuck in when she was asleep which is even creepier.”
“She doesn’t remember waking up,” Kola says. “We drank too much.”
“We can’t blame ourselves for having fun. We just need to help her find out who did this. She can sleep in my room until they sort this out. Molly won’t mind.”
I never asked Molly, but all the girls are gossiping about what happened, so she’ll probably hear about what happened soon and welcome Sylvia into our dorm room. I make a mental note to text her after class.
“Is everything okay?” Kola asks me. “I heard something happened in the dining hall with you and the crew team this morning.”
But she didn’t hear details, so maybe my reputation survived my public humiliation because it was too early for more people to be awake. I shrug.
“It’s no big deal. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sylvia needs us right now. We just need to get through class so we can support her.”
Kola nods in agreement and then the classroom door swings open. Kola and I walk into bio as our professor Ann Hubbard, a tall woman with a short ginger bob, allows us inside. Her poodle sits in the front of the class, standing at attention like a fellow teacher.
Kola and I sit near the front as the rest of the people in our class filter in. Professor Hubbard introduces the poodle as Mr. Candy, and makes him stick out his paw for a handshake. This class might be fun…
At least that’s what I thought. Kit Barclay struts in five minutes late wearing Ray-Bans and slurping iced coffee. Great. Just what I need…
When he walks into class, he doesn’t stop staring at Kola, or at least the empty seat next to her. I don’t want him anywhere near us, but there’s nothing I can do.
“Ladies,” he greets us, giving me an obnoxious and cheeky wink. Great, another guy I hate in one of my classes. I could sink into the ground.
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