12. Wren
Julez wasn’t lying when he said he knew his way around the school. He walked those hallways like they made perfect sense and not like every single one looked the same, as if to confuse you on purpose.
Today had been a lot, but not in the way I’d thought it would be. Don’t get me wrong, Julez is a lot to handle, but the more time I spend with him, the more I think he’s genuine, or maybe it’s just what I’m hoping for.
By the time he’d shown me what he could, we picked up all my books, laptop, and uniform, and I'm exhausted.
“You’ll learn the rest as you go, and if you get lost, I’m always happy to help,” Julez says as we walk back to the dorm. He wiggles his brows at me, and it makes me chuckle at how ridiculous he looks.
I’d almost been excited for tomorrow, that is, until we walk back into the dorm and every eye turns our way, reminding me that I don’t belong here.
I don’t belong anywhere.
The only place I’ve ever belonged was with Jordan.
“I thought you were trying to get out of cooking,” Gavin grumbles, but Julez waves him off.
“As if,” he moves through the living room and into the kitchen without so much as a glance back. “So we can lose points, I don’t think so. Get out.” He shoos Gavin and Nolan out, and I’m kind of shocked when they go.
Nolan doesn’t even look up from his phone as he heads toward the stairs, disappearing a moment later. I listen, but after he clears the stairs, his footsteps all but vanish.
You’d think with a school this old, the floor would creak, but I guess with all the money they make, they can afford to maintain it.
I feel eyes on me and don’t need to look up to know it’s Titus; he seems to enjoy glaring at me as if that might make me disappear.
Gavin, on the other hand, is looking anywhere but at me as he drops onto the couch in front of me so that he gives me his back.
Joy.
I square my shoulders and lift my chin before moving over to the couch I now call home. I drape my garment bag, which holds my uniforms, three for warm days and four for cold, over the back and take a seat before I begin pulling things out of it.
Again, I feel their eyes, but I ignore them.
I don’t want to be here any more than they want me here, but none of us have a choice, so they’re just going to have to put on their big-boy pants and deal with it.
“You should try that on, Pookie. Don’t want to be left scrambling in the morning if it doesn’t fit.”
This time, when I look up, Titus is glaring at Julez, who is positively beaming at me with that adorable lopsided grin that makes him so hard to resist.
Titus seems to be a great help with that, though, as he scoffs and elbows Julez in the ribs hard enough to make him cough.
If Julez is upset about it, he doesn’t show it; instead, cursing Titus under his breath before turning back to whatever he’s chopping up.
But he’s done what he set out to do, and now that seed of doubt sits heavy in my mind. I reach for the garment bag, my hand resting on the plastic for a moment as I contemplate what to do.
“Real ballsy to hit a man with a knife,” Julian huffs, and I don’t need to see Titus’s face to know he’s rolled his eyes. I can feel it.
“I wouldn’t have to hit you if you would think with the right head,” Titus snaps back, but not in English, and I sit for a moment listening to them bicker.
Had Titus always spoken in German?
No, surely not; I would have noticed… right?
I hadn’t heard much of Titus, but I’m positive what I’d heard was in English prior to now, which can only mean one thing.
He really doesn’t like me.
If only they knew I myself can speak seven languages or that Jordan and I often spoke in other languages so that Auntie wouldn’t understand.
Well, until she caught on, and I got a backhand good enough to split my lip. After that, Jordan wouldn’t risk it.
He’d always done his best to protect me, and I’d failed him.
“He’s being a perv. Don't waste your time.”
“What?” I ask, turning toward Gavin only to find his nose still in a book he’d picked up, and for a moment, I worry I’d hallucinated him talking.
That is, until his brows scrunch up and his lips pinch. I’d seen this look a lot when we were younger; somehow, I’d managed to frustrate him by simply sitting here.
I think that’s a new record for me.
He slams the book closed and turns to look at me as if I’ve done something to offend him.
It’s weird, but my mood almost feels like it’s improving as he huffs and puffs.
“Julez is a pervert. He’s trying to trick you into putting your uniform on so he can see you in it. If you gave them the right sizes, then they got it right. I’ve never seen them get it wrong before.” He explains like I’m five, and I have to try really hard to keep the smile off my face.
Something tells me he wouldn’t like that very much.
What he’s saying fits, though. Julez is a flirt. I’ve seen it all day, and not just with me.
It’s almost like he can’t help it or doesn’t know he’s doing it.
When I glance his way, his eyes flick up almost as if sensing mine, and the smile that curls his lips is all mirth.
I turn away from him and Gavin, going back to my things to sort out and ensure I’m prepared for tomorrow.
“Dinner’s ready, Pookie,” Julez calls, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I look up to find the rest of them at the table already, watching me.
Well, this is embarrassing.
I do my best to swallow that feeling and come off as confident as Julez does, but I have no idea if it works.
Oh well, there’s a saying for that. Fake it ‘til ya make it, and I intend to make it.
I move from the couch and into the kitchen, and I’m hit with a wonderful aroma that I wouldn’t have thought possible from someone like Julez.
I guess I judged him wrong, perhaps Titus as well.
Though good cooking doesn’t win him any points, and his little language tactic is subpar, literally child's play.
The only seat is between Julez and Nolan, and while Julez smiles at me, the rest of the table is far from happy. Not that I blame them, I guess.
A knock sounds at the door a second later, and I’m almost convinced I’m going to be saved from this, which I’m sure will be a disaster of a dinner.
Instead, the door swings open, and a guy I’ve never seen before waltzes in.
“Conner.” Gavin holds up a plate, and Conner comes over to grab it, a greedy smile on his lips that he licks the second he has the plate in hand.
“Pleasure, boys,” he says, turning and heading right back out without so much as another glance.
What the hell just happened?
My confusion must be obvious because Julez turns to me the second the door closes.
“There are seven wings in the dorms, and we compete. Each day, a different dorm prepares a dish, with one dish coming from each wing. Today was our day.”
It sounds simple enough, but I don’t really get it.
“Why?”
“Just a bit of healthy competition between us. Our dorm usually wins, which is why I won’t let Gavin cook.” He leans in closer, and I pull back slightly, but there’s not really anywhere to go with Nolan beside me; the guy's built like a brick wall.
“He could burn water,” Julez whispers, or fake whispers, I suppose.
If that was his actual attempt at a whisper, well, I’ll make sure I never tell him anything I want kept a secret.
“I do not,” Gavin says with a huff, and I feel my eyes go wide as a balled-up napkin hits Julez in the side of the face.
“You actually set off the smoke detectors last semester trying to boil water for ramen,” Nolan says as he chews, and I realize that everyone else is eating already.
“I fell asleep at the table studying, and all the water evaporated from the pot, so it was smoking. There was never a risk of a fire,” he tells me as if he needs to defend himself.
He doesn’t, but man, does it make the story funnier.
While they continue to bicker amongst themselves, I reach for the main dish that looks like some kind of chicken and mushroom with spinach.
It looks amazing and smells even better.
“I’m pretty sure they only made up the competition so that the dorm heads don’t have to cook,” Nolan mumbles around a huge bite. I’m pretty sure that’s the closest he’s come to talking directly to me. Though when I glance his way, he’s only got eyes for his plate; that’s fine, better than Titus.
I take a bite and have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from moaning as my tastebuds light up at the flavors.
“Good?” Julez whispers far too close, and I whip my head to the side to find us nearly nose to nose.
Nobody else seems to notice as they continue to eat and bicker, and all I can do is nod as I continue to chew, unwilling to answer him with a mouth full of food.
The smile that turns his lips is intense, nothing like his playboy, flirty smirks from earlier. No, this is all boyish charm and pride.
He’s adorable.
He pulls away, still holding my gaze as he goes back to eating his own food, and I look away first, unable to do anything else while trapped in his gaze.
Apparently, Titus and Julez cooking means Nolan and Gavin do the dishes, which is fine by me; I hate doing dishes.
With a full stomach, I grab some pajama pants and a hoodie, then change before I cuddle up on the couch and get comfortable.
The pillow still smells like the woods, fresh pine, and just a hint of citrus, as if someone ate an orange then wiped their hands on it, and I can’t help but breathe it in; the scent soothing and warm.
“Don’t think just because you're lying down that we’re going to be tiptoeing around everywhere. It’s still early, and we have stuff to do.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I tell Gavin as I get comfortable. I pull out my phone to set an alarm just in case, because sleeping through my first day of class seems like my kind of bad luck.
I set the alarm, and I’m just about to tuck my phone away under my pillow when the notification on my text message app catches my eye.
Strange. Who would be texting me?
Not many people have my number, and of those who do, most aren’t the texting type.
Unable to fight my curiosity, I click it and promptly slap a hand over my mouth to hide the very audible gasp of surprise that escapes when I read the sender’s name.
You never bothered me.
There’s no way I’m seeing this right… But no matter how long I look at the name, I only see one thing.
D.