by Stacey Nash
“What type of incident?”
I twisted my fingers around the hem of my blouse. “Violence.”
“Hmm, well the bylaws state that improper conduct equals immediate disqualification.”
Logan snapped up, his back ramrod straight. “There was no improper conduct. Olivia was the victim. She shouldn’t be punished because some dick got all up in her face and harassed her. Besides, she wasn’t the one who hit him.”
Amrita’s brow furrowed. “Who did hit him?”
“Not relevant,” Logan said, almost before she’d finished asking.
“Did you hit him, Logan?”
It was only for a second, but I caught Logan’s gaze drop to the floor as he said, “Yeah, and what of it?”
Amrita was silent for a few moments while her gaze lingered on Logan, as if she could make him look at her out of sheer will. He didn’t. Finally, her gaze slid to me, and she said, “Leave it with me.” She slid a notepad and business card across the desk. “I’ll need your details and any relevant correspondence.”
After I scrawled down my name, student number, and phone number, she stood. Logan and I both rose to our feet and Amrita showed us to the door. Even though there were no guarantees, it was good to know she was helping. Before pulling it open, she said, “I’ll be in touch soon.”
I gave her a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
She returned the gesture then her gaze slid to Logan. “Make sure you stay out of trouble. You’ve got too much at stake. I’ll see you for our regular meeting?”
Logan walked out without saying goodbye. A little shocked by his rudeness, I said, “Thanks again,” and hurried to catch up.
“What was that all about?” I asked, noting his scowl.
“I don’t need any damn lectures.” Logan swung his bag onto his shoulder. “I got to get to class.” He leaned in, his breath on my cheek. My legs almost gave way at the near kiss, but he pulled back, his expression still stony. “I’ll catch you later.”
He walked toward the admin building, leaving me regretting saying what I had to the welfare officer. I shouldn’t have pulled him into my issues like that. My problems were mine alone, and I’d have to deal with them. It was really nice of him to set up the meeting, but Logan didn’t owe me anything.
I called out his name.
Logan spun around, and I shouted, “I’m sorry.”
He brought his hand to his mouth, blew me a kiss, and smiled as he turned back around the way he was headed.
Well, that was kind of weird. He’d seemed so happy to see me, but now he couldn’t get away quickly enough, which kind of stung, even though I shouldn’t let it. After the day we’d spent together yesterday, I had assumed he’d want to hang out. I glanced at my watch, and realised the next class didn’t start for half an hour, so Logan shouldn’t have been in a hurry at all. Clearly he just didn’t want to be here with me for whatever reason.
I decided to head to my next class early. Maybe I could use the time to catch up. As I walked across campus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Logan’s weird behaviour.
When I got to the lecture hall it was empty. It was a blessing, really, that there wasn’t a class before mine. I took my usual spot in the centre of the room and pulled down the desk, then set to work. The time passed quickly and before I realised it, the hall filled with students. Ella claimed the desk beside mine, and heat rushed up neck to my cheeks. I’d successfully avoided her since overhearing that conversation in the bathroom, and she hadn’t sat with me in class either. I guess our volatile friendship had always been more competitive than true anyway.
“You weren’t in the tutorial yesterday.” Her glare felt accusatory. “You missed the mid-term quiz that’s worth ten per cent of the final grade. And where’s your input for the group assignment for Torts?”
Crap. Double crap. How did I forget about the test? My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach and Ella sized me up, her green-eyed gaze flicking from the work spread out before me to what I was certain was my now pale face.
“That’s due tomorrow, Olivia. We need to get it organised. What’s wrong with you lately?”
The answer rolled right off my tongue. “Maybe if people would give me a break and stop spreading stupid rumours, I could concentrate on schoolwork.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t keep the entire floor awake every night, people wouldn’t talk about it.”
Ella didn’t give me a chance to respond. She stood and moved to the back of the room, as far away from me as possible. The way my stomach turned and bile rose in my throat was a sure indicator that I was going to throw up any second. Missing a compulsory test was bad. It didn’t matter that it was only worth ten per cent, compulsory was compulsory. It could cause me to fail the entire class.
I drew in a slow, steady breath and let it out again as Professor Renfrew took position at the front of the room. When did Ella get so nasty? Making crap up was one thing, but claiming it happened every night … my cheeks warmed at the thought. The days we’d been friends in high school had never felt so far gone.
The lecture started with Renfrew using a laser to point at a list projected on the screen. The topic didn’t even register in my head. I’d never experienced an hour that dragged so long.
I gathered up my stuff and rushed to the front of the theatre as my classmates filed out. Professor Renfrew shoved papers and books into his satchel.
“Excuse me, Sir, do you have a moment?”
He looked up. The middle-aged professor was the toughest of my lecturers this year. With a reputation for being strict about grades, I didn’t stand much of a chance, but I was determined to plead my case anyway.
He nodded for me to continue and I bit down the bundle of nerves which had just hit me. “I … ah … I missed my tutorial yesterday, so didn’t sit the quiz. Is there—”
“Do you have a doctor’s certificate?”
“No.”
“Was there a death in the family?”
“No.”
“Any other extenuating circumstances?”
“Umm …” Did being kidnapped by a hot guy count?
“Well, why did you miss it?”
“I … I … forgot all about it.” Cringe. His barrage of questions left me floundering, and I couldn’t think straight.
“Then no, I can’t give you a special exemption. A ninety per cent attendance rate is also compulsory for tutorials. I trust you’ll remember that, Miss Dean.” He picked up his bag and walked out.
I couldn’t fail over a stupid compulsory test. That wouldn’t happen. There had to be a way to make it up. Heat burned in the back of my throat and chest. My eyes began to sting, but I wouldn’t cry. The door to the lecture theatre slammed as he exited and I jumped like someone had fired a shot.
It would be damn near impossible to make sure I maintained a high distinction average in this class. In just a few weeks, my whole world had gone from right on track to falling apart at the seams, and there was nothing I could do to stop the disaster.
****
Wednesday and Thursday came and went and I didn’t hear from Logan. By Friday morning I had myself convinced that even if nothing had really happened, he’d counted me as a win and lost interest. Which made me feel like utter crap, even though I wasn’t sure why. I should be grateful we’d both dodged a bullet. I needed to concentrate on my classes, and he didn’t need my issues bogging him down.
At the beginning of the year, I’d worked my schedule so I had a free full day each Friday, and gee was I thankful for that. Still behind on my work, I went to the library to catch up. My mind continued swirling around what Ella had said and the conviction in her voice. She’d been nice for the past year, so the turnaround was a bit of a shock. I got my portion of the group assignment to her on Tuesday night. It was due today, and I hadn’t heard boo from her or the other girl in our group.
I set myself up in one of the huge desks for a day of study. I probably should have been in th
e Law library, but I’d come to Dixon instead. It was easier to blend into the larger library and hide myself away amongst the books.
I flipped my laptop open and hooked into the university’s Wi-Fi. First job on my to-do list was to email Ella. A bunch of new emails pinged into my inbox, but I ignored them while I concentrated on what I needed to say; instructions on where my section fitted into the assignment, and a plea to send through hers so I could mesh them together. I attached my work again for good measure, and CCed both of my group members. Hopefully they’d like what I did then we could submit with hours to spare. After it had sent, I checked out my mailbox and blow me down, there was an email from Logan. I wanted to be angry that I hadn’t heard from him sooner, but my heart fluttered as I clicked it open.
Sorry about leaving in a hurry the other day. Don’t stress about the suspension, Amrita will sort it out.
Not even so much as a ‘see you soon.’ I tried to ignore the disappointment that spiralled through me that there was nothing more as I flicked from my emails into my working document. Whatever game he was playing I didn’t have the time or energy to be part of it, even if my heart argued otherwise.
CHAPTER TEN
My phone beeped with an incoming text. Logan’s name flashed across the screen and I pushed it to the side then clicked to refresh my emails. It wasn’t that I didn’t care he was texting, but rather that there was still nothing from either Ella or the other girl about our Torts assignment. It was due in five hours if we submitted via the online portal, which was the last way left to submit, since we’d missed the five p.m cut off for delivering in person. The fact we were so close to deadline had me more than a little anxious. I drummed my fingers against the hardwood of my desk in my dorm room. Maybe I should just go knock on her door.
My phone trilled again, reminding me I had an unread text. Sighing, I picked it up.
What’s for breakfast?
I hadn’t heard from him in two days and the first thing he asked about was food. I couldn’t figure this guy out. But then I hadn’t responded to his email either.
Pig snouts, lambs’ livers, and black coffee.
I grinned at my inventiveness. His response was immediate.
Not anymore. I’ll pick you up at eight.
Can’t.
Why?
I have hockey.
Until?
Until I’m done.
And after that?
Study. Like I’m trying to do now.
If you’d just say yes, I’d leave you alone.
No.
Night then.
I sighed as I typed out my last message and pushed my phone across the desk, then refreshed my email yet again. Last thing I felt like was a showdown with Ella, but this assignment needed to go. I opened my door and strode down the hall to her room. Her door was closed, which wasn’t unusual; it was often that way when she studied. I was the only one who kept my door closed all the time. Not that I ever used to. I rapped my knuckles against the wood and waited.
And waited.
I knocked again.
She wasn’t in. Unfortunately, I didn’t know the other girl since she didn’t live at Oxley. Friends with Ella, she was from one of the other dorms, and I had no way to contact her other than via email, which I’d already done at least a dozen times. Growing frustrated, I stomped back to my room and slammed the door.
Over the next hour I must have hit refresh on my email a million times. It was enough that my pointer finger started aching. I had no idea how to deal with this. I had the work I’d compiled. It was a rough draft, and I didn’t want to submit without my group’s input, but it was getting close to the submission deadline and it didn’t look as if they’d be helping.
I tried Ella’s door again and got the same result.
It was nine p.m and a lot of noise bounced off the walls of the courtyard: voices and music and laughter. I pushed my fingertips around my temples. I couldn’t wait any longer. It needed to go. I’d just have to do it without them. I opened the draft and started working to polish it up.
Another two hours and it was done. There was still no word from either of my partners and the online submission portal would close in an hour. I logged into the university intranet and took a deep breath. This was the wrong thing to do, but they’d left me with no choice.
Someone squealed in the courtyard below and I yanked my curtains closed to block out the distraction.
“Olivia!” a voice called from below, but I knew better than to respond. Especially when it was a guy. “Come down. We wanna watch you play.”
Raucous laughter followed and I took a deep breath.
Ignore it.
I attached the file and clicked submit.
“Livia!”
That sounded like Dane; he could go to hell. I wasn’t going out there. And he’d been so on and off with Savvy, if I did go down, I’d probably give him an earful. Not the best outcome for trying to fall back under the college gossip radar.
A fast rap sounded on my door. Just freaking great. That I ignored too.
The progress bar moved across the screen while the pounding on my door continued. “Olivia, I know you’re in there.”
Great. It was Christian.
“C’mon, babe, let me in.”
The bitch in me wanted to have it out with him—to yell and scream, and make him hurt for how he’d hurt me. But the tone of his voice was so pleading, so pained that I had the door open before I’d had time to rationalise.
Christian leaned again the frame, his head resting on his forearm. Eyes spidered with red, he looked like utter crap and smelled like a brewery. He was unshaven which was unusual, and unlike on Logan, it didn’t look sexy on him at all. It looked sloppy. His dark hair was just as bad, sticking up all over the place rather than in his normal neat style.
“I miss you.” He couldn’t even keep his gaze locked on my face. It kept sliding to the left. He obviously had no idea what he was saying.
My hand gripped the edge of the door tightly, holding it half closed. “I doubt that.”
“I do, Livia. I miss kissing you, touching you, the way you smell. I miss holding you all night.”
“You’re drunk, Christian. Go to bed.”
“I want to come to your bed.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
He heaved a sigh longer than I thought was possible for one single breath. “Please, babe, I love you.”
“I am not your babe, Christian, and you don’t love me.”
“I know you’re not …” His glassy eyes flicked to mine and actually held. “I screwed up.”
I tried to close the door, but he’d wedged himself in it. Christian was the last person I felt like talking to and truth be told, I wasn’t sure I could contain myself.
“Forgive me.”
“Oh-my-freaking-gosh, Christian. I’m the laughing stock of Oxley thanks to you, and you … you … want me to forgive you?” I shook my head. Unbelievable.
His fingers ran along my arm. “What you do is damn hot, Olivia.”
Rage boiled within me and I rolled my shoulder to shrug his touch off. Of all the dumb things to say, he had to go there, as if he actually believed it. “For heaven’s sake, Christian.”
Christian jerked his head back and his lips flattened.
The second he was off my door jamb, I slammed it closed. Hopefully the jerk would fall on his way down the stairs. How dare he come up here and act all flirty while he still held onto that lie?
I dropped into my chair and jammed my iPod buds into my ears before setting the volume to blaring. Drowning out the fools in the courtyard and the niggling voice in my head that was stressed about this assignment, I turned around to the computer and woke it up from hibernation.
Submission unsuccessful.
Prior submission received.
****
Benched. How a team could do that to their captain was beyond my understanding. Yet here I was, sitting on the sidelines again. A
nd this time, from the very start of the game. Maddy had taken over my usual position, ordering me off for first half, telling everyone else where to play, and when I stood up to her the rest of the team voiced their disagreement. I was off. Apparently I was volatile, which meant I could lose us the game, and this game was important—it would be the one that put us through to the quarter finals. Whatever. They wanted to see volatile, I’d show them.
“What’s up, Butterfingers? You look angry.”
I swung around so fast the stick in my hand almost hit the fence Logan was standing behind.
“What are you doing here?”
“Picking you up for breakfast.”
“I said no.”
“Is that why you’re scowling? Good food in your belly makes everything better.”
I clenched my teeth and swung back around to watch the game. Alisha was a waste of space today; she’d overshot the ball three times, and now she’d let the redheaded Evan’s Hall girl steal it right out from under her.
Logan jumped the fence and plonked himself on the bench beside me. One of our reserves, Rovi, huffed on my other side. “Tell your boyfriend this space is reserved for the players only.”
“Not her boyfriend,” Logan said. “Right, Liv?”
Ignoring his mocking tone, I kept my eyes on the field and spun my stick on its curved head, balancing the twirling end with my fingers.
“Alisha! No! From the left … watch it. Watch it …” I yelled at my teammate, but she still missed the pass. “Damn it. I should be out there.”
Half-time came and went, and still my team wouldn’t let me on the field. Logan sat beside me the whole time, and the longer it played out the angrier I got until I jumped up, tossed my stick in my bag, and looked at Logan. “Let’s go get some food.”
A small grin graced his wind-chapped lips. The air was icy cold this morning. He jumped over the wooden fence and held his hand out. I took it and vaulted myself over to join him. His red Corolla was parked at the sports centre and even though he didn’t talk on the short walk there, I could practically feel his smile in the air. I suppose he thought he’d won. Well, it wasn’t like we could go anywhere fancy with me in my hockey clothes anyway.