13. Elle
13
ELLE
A fter my embarrassing breakdown, it took the entire rest of my Sunday to simply pull myself together and repair the cracks in my perfect fa?ade. But now, as I walk back to my dorm room after my Monday classes, I am once again Elle Summers, the impeccable political science student and the mayor’s flawless daughter.
No one would ever guess that I had a panic attack on the lawn behind my building yesterday.
A shudder rolls through me at just the thought of that mortifying moment. I can’t believe I broke down like that. And in such a public place. It is simply unacceptable. What if someone had seen me?
Strange emotions swirl through my chest.
Because someone did see me.
Tristan saw the entire thing. Saw me practically crawling on the grass because I couldn’t breathe.
I wait for a wave of embarrassment to crash over me. But it doesn’t. Just like it didn’t back when he was in the middle of helping me through the panic attack or even afterwards when I was piecing myself together alone in my room. Because I simply don’t care what Tristan Kane thinks of me.
The sudden realization stuns me so much that I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk.
Two girls, who had apparently been walking quite close behind me, bump into me because of the abrupt stop. I spin around, flashing them an apologetic smile, before I step aside.
“Sorry,” I mumble as they walk past.
They give me curious glances but then just nod and continue on their way. I adjust my shirt, which got a little rumpled after the collision, and then smooth down my hair. It’s a relatively warm day, but white gauzy clouds cover the heavens, so it’s thankfully not as hot as it was last week.
I check behind me before I step back onto the sidewalk and continue towards my dorm room.
That incredible realization from earlier still rings inside my skull.
I don’t care what Tristan thinks.
It’s insane. I have never not cared what people think of me. But for some reason, I simply don’t give a rat’s ass about what Tristan thinks.
And it’s so liberating.
Tilting my head up to the cloud-covered heavens, I close my eyes for a second and draw in a deep breath. My lungs expand fully. Gosh, it’s so freeing to not care.
“Elle?”
The voice shatters my moment of peace like brittle glass and makes me snap my head back down and open my eyes again. I come to a halt on the sidewalk. Mei stands before me.
Her dark eyes are full of concern and guilt as she looks at me .
“Hi,” I say, rather awkwardly since I don’t know what else to do.
“I just wanted to…” She fidgets a little and then clears her throat. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I lie, and give her a bright smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
For a moment, it looks like she’s going to say something. But then she casts a quick glance over her shoulder. Two other girls are coming towards us. They’re not from our sorority. Well, her sorority now, I suppose. But she still looks nervous when she sees them.
She shifts her attention back to me, her face full of regret. “I wish it could’ve been different.”
Then, before I can respond, she quickly walks away.
Turning slightly, I watch her disappear down the road.
“Yeah, me too,” I say to her retreating back.
Resignation washes over me. Suddenly, the white clouds above feel more like a suffocating blanket than a welcome respite from the bright sun. Shaking my head, I quickly make my way to the dormitories.
The large building, made of white stone, is full of people when I return. Some of them nod to me when I walk past on my way to my room. Others ignore me outright.
I squeeze my hand into a fist. I might have been kicked out of the sorority and lost any chance of becoming friends with Mei and those other girls, but I can still salvage this. I can still make new friends, on my own, and create a life for myself. A life that I want.
The thought fills me with a strange sense of giddiness.
Maybe getting kicked out wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe now, I can finally live my own life without feeling like someone is watching me and assessing me all the time .
I grin as I round the final corner and start into my corridor.
It’s time to start making some new friends.
A murmur hangs over the hallway. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as I find a large group of people standing around the door to my room. What are they doing here? They can’t possibly have been waiting for me.
“Uhm, hi,” I say uncertainly as I come to a halt behind them.
The sound of my voice seems to startle them, and they whirl around to face me. They don’t move aside, though, so they’re still blocking the way to my door.
A girl with red hair, who I think lives in the room next to mine, blinks at me for a few seconds. Then she raises a hand and points with her thumb over her shoulder.
“Is this your room?” she asks.
There is a strange tension in the air. I glance from face to face, finding them all watching me suspiciously. It sends a shiver of dread through me. But I keep my voice pleasant and neutral as I reply, “Yes.”
As one, the entire group edges back slightly.
If only one person had moved like that, it wouldn’t even have been noticeable. But because everyone does it at the exact same time, it’s like a ripple in an otherwise still pool of water.
My heart rate kicks up. What is going on here?
“Oh,” the redhead says.
She casts a glance at the people behind her.
Then the entire group scatters without a word. Some disappear to their rooms farther down the hall. Others quickly shuffle past me to escape back the way I came. A lot of them cast wary glances at me .
For a few moments, I just stand there, watching them all in utter confusion. But then the crowd is gone, at last giving me a clear view of my door, and my heart stops.
There is a word written on my door.
No, not just written. It has been drawn there with red paint and in big capital letters. The wet paint at the bottom of each letter has slid down along the pale wood, making it look like blood running down my door.
I stare at that word.
RAT .
Disbelief pulses through me. I think my ears are ringing.
Then my gaze flicks down to something small lying right in front of the door.
A gasp rips from my lungs, and I stagger a step back.
That small furry lump in front of my room is a dead rat.
I swallow back the nausea crawling up my throat.
From both my left and right, I can feel people lingering in front of their own doors, watching me with keen eyes. No wonder everyone was acting so strange around me earlier.
My heart drops into my stomach as another realization crashes into me with the force of a baseball bat.
They all think I’m a rat. And after an event like this—there’s a blood red warning and an actual dead rat outside my door, for God’s sake—word will spread quickly across campus. How am I supposed to make new friends now? Even if they don’t know the full story, everyone is going to think that I’m a snitch. A rat. Someone who can’t be trusted. No one is going to want to come within four feet of me after this.
Something inside my heart cracks.
Gritting my teeth, I force back the tide of emotions welling up inside me. Force myself not to cry. Force myself to keep a neutral mask on my face as I close the final distance to my door and pull out my key.
I need to start by getting rid of that rat, and then scrub off the paint on my door. After I moved here, I had to buy some supplies that I couldn’t bring from the sorority house, and I think I have a couple of small cardboard boxes left from that.
Steeling myself, I push down the handle and then pull open my door. The dead rat slides across the floor when I open it wider. I try not to look at it and instead simply stride right into my room.
But I only make it two steps into my small white room before I screech to a halt.
Ice seeps through my veins.
Another dead rat is lying in the middle of the floor inside my room as well.
I drag in unsteady breaths. But they sound muffled in my ears. As if I’m under water.
Tristan has been inside my room. Again. And he has put a dead rat in here. Right in the middle of all my things.
Cold, searing fury flickers to life inside me. It burns through my veins, pushing aside the nausea and the dread.
This is over the line. He hates me? Fine. But putting a dead rat in my room. That’s crossing a line. It’s gross beyond belief and an actual health hazard. What if it has touched any of my clothes? I might get a disease from it.
Flexing my fingers, I drag in long breaths through my nose.
God, I can’t even remember the last time I was this angry. He is simply?—
My thoughts cut off abruptly, leaving my entire head unnaturally and deafeningly silent, as I notice a small bulge in the thin cover on my bed .
I don’t think I’m even breathing anymore as I walk up to my bed, staring at it as if I’m in a trance. Blood pounds in my ears as I grip the edge of the cover. Then I rip it off the bed.
A dead rat lies there on my white sheets.
Something snaps inside me.
I scream.
It’s not a pitiful cry of fear.
It’s a roar of fury.
Stalking over to the corner, I snatch up one of the cardboard boxes that I was going to recycle and then grab the broom next to them. With quick jerky movements, I sweep the dead rat from my bed and into the box. Then I do the same with the one on the floor and the one outside the door as well.
Once they’re all in the box, I slam the door shut behind me so hard that it rattles in its hinges. Without even bothering to lock it, I simply stride down the hall towards the front door. People jump out of my way when they see me coming. But I don’t think it’s because of the dead rats in the box.
Fury courses through my entire body like streaks of electricity. I feel as if I could set the world on fire.
And I am going to set something on fire. I’m going to burn every single piece of my bed linen until there is nothing left but ash. But first, I have something else to do.
Smoke practically billows behind me as I storm across the residential area until I reach Tristan’s house. This time, I don’t bother with the doorbell. I simply raise one hand and pound my fist against the door over and over again until someone swears loudly from inside the house.
“I’ll deal with it,” Tristan calls in response to whoever cursed me out.
I don’t even care anymore. With the fury coursing through me, I feel as if I could beat them all into the ground regardless of how physically outmatched I am against all of them. Let them try. Tristan put a rat in my bed . It’s all-out war now.
Stomping footsteps come from inside the hall. I move back a step so that I won’t be hit by the door if he flings it open the way he did last time. Then I adjust my grip on the cardboard box in my hand.
Just like last time, Tristan shoves the door open with much more force than necessary. When it swings open to reveal that I was already standing a safe distance away, he looks a little disappointed. Then his gaze lands on my face, and a mocking smirk spreads across his stupid mouth.
“Elle,” he says. His gaze slides up and down my body, and amusement lights his eyes. “You look angry. Has something happened to?—”
Heaving the box, I throw the three dead rats right into his face.
The stiff, furry animals hit his forehead, nose, and left cheek before gravity takes over. Falling down, they bounce against his chest before they plummet to the ground. They hit the stone porch with three distinct thuds that seem to echo across the entire universe.
The whole residential area around us is silent and still. I swear, the wind isn’t even blowing anymore and the leaves stop rustling halfway through.
For a few seconds, Tristan just stands there, staring at me with wide eyes full of disbelief.
He looks absolutely flabbergasted.
It’s so satisfying that I have to suppress a sudden laugh that tries to rip from my throat. God, I feel like I could climb mountains or run marathons right now. My entire body is suddenly buzzing with energy .
“Here,” I say, flicking my wrist towards the dead rats now lying right in front of his feet. And even I am surprised by how strong and confident my voice sounds. “I think these are yours.”
He glances down at the rats, as if he has to double check to see if what just happened actually happened. Then he drags his gaze up to me.
Cocking my head, I flash him a vicious smile. “After all, vermin belong with vermin.”
Then, before he can retort or shoot me in the head or something, I spin on my heel and storm off.
Lightning pulses through my whole soul, and I have to stop myself from trying to just leap up and soar towards the sky.
A laugh bubbles from my throat. And this time, I don’t stop it. Grinning, I practically skip all the way back to my dorm.
I feel invincible.
It’s absolutely intoxicating.
And suddenly, I hate Tristan a little less.
Yes, he put a rat in my bed and I still want to murder him for that. Yes, he has now probably ruined my chances at making friends. At least with the people in my dorm. And yes, I hate his incessant bullying.
But there is also something about him that forces me to push myself out of the very restrictive box that I have been living inside all my life. Something that pushes me past my own limits. Or the limits I thought I had.
And I hate to admit it, but I quite like that.