Shh!

by Stacey Nash

  He opened the passenger door and I climbed in the small car, tossing my duffle bag in the back seat as he closed the door after me. Logan slid in behind the wheel and started the engine. It choked once and didn’t turn over. With a look of sheer determination, he hit the ignition again and this time it started. His thigh flexed against those jeans I loved as he put it into reverse. He’d coupled them with a light-weight leather jacket and a t-shirt. Good lord, the guy had style.

  “What happened back there?” he asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “I’m tired of being treated like rubbish.”

  “They sat you off?”

  “I am the gosh darn captain. They can’t sit me off.”

  Logan’s mouth twitched, fighting a smile. I had no idea what was so funny.

  “Whatever,” I huffed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  As the Corolla pulled out of University Drive and headed toward town, all I could think about was the game. It felt like the stupid rumour had taken over every facet of my life; from hockey to my social life, and even academically. I was stressed as all heck about the assignment not submitting on top of the missed test, and freaking Ella was still nowhere to be found.

  Logan took my not wanting to talk as a precedent, and kept his mouth shut all the way through town until we were headed out the side, this time going south. I’d assumed we’d be going to one of the cafes in town, but I hoped to high hell we weren’t headed to Tamworth. It was the closest city to our university’s country town, and more than an hour’s drive away. Surely that wasn’t what he had in mind for breakfast. Just before we hit the highway though, he indicated to turn off the main road. The sign above the place he pulled into had a bunch of strawberries on it and read ‘Berry Best’

  “Corny.”

  “Don’t pass judgement too early.” Logan got out of the car.

  After smoothing my hair back into its ponytail, I stepped out and Logan closed the door behind me. I glanced down at my shin pads, which were a little ridiculous, but Logan strode right up to the door and pulled it open. “What are you waiting for? The best pancakes in town are just inside.”

  I smoothed out my shirt. “I feel underdressed.”

  “It’s breakfast, Liv, you look fine. In fact, those socks? Hot damn!”

  Chuckling, I swatted his arm. My blue knee-high sports socks were ugly, and we both knew it.

  Logan placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me inside the quaint little cottage. It was the cutest place imaginable, country living met chic vintage style. Little wooden tables filled the room, and a glass counter played host to a multitude of pies and muffins and cakes. This didn’t look like somewhere to have breakfast; it looked like the type of place you’d come out of with eyes glazed over from a sugar coma.

  We picked a table by the huge window, which with any luck should be warmed by the morning sun. It was chilly, and I hadn’t thought to bring a jacket as I’d expected to be on the field then return home while I was still warm from the game.

  I picked up the menu and started reading. Logan’s eyes caught mine over the top.

  “You really like hockey, huh?”

  “Not that much. It’s all right though, I guess.”

  He raised a brow. “You sure seemed pretty passionate back there.”

  “Yeah, well … I’m the captain. Sitting on the sidelines is not where I should have been.”

  “Why do you play then?”

  “Huh?” It wasn’t like I was benched every week. In fact, the last two games were the only times it had happened. Ever.

  “If you don’t love it, why do you play?”

  I shrugged. “Same reason I play netball when it’s in season. It’s good to be involved.” I glanced down at the menu. “What about you? Any favourite sports?”

  “I like watching the football.” Logan’s mouth turned up.

  “Spectator, hey?”

  Just then the waitress walked over, pad in hand.

  “You first.” Logan nodded toward me.

  My gaze slid over the menu one more time. “Can I have an English Breakfast tea and the fresh berry pancakes?”

  “Thought you’d be a coffee drinker.” Logan palmed his hair back from his face.

  “Not me.” I’d never drunk a cup of coffee in my life. I couldn’t even stand the smell of it. It was somehow bitter and tangy and green, all rolled into a smell strong enough to knock your socks off. Logan placed his own order, sans coffee, thank goodness.

  “Let me guess,’ he said, “ you hate the stuff?”

  “Even the smell’s a bit much,” I admitted.

  We spent the morning talking about everything, from my lack of siblings to my not-so-ardent love of sports, and even touched on Logan’s work. He’d worked at the cafe during his freshman year, and when he came back to town the owner was happy for him to re-join the roster. I didn’t ask why he’d left, not after being fobbed off last time. He’d tell me when he was ready. The time flowed by quickly, and before I knew it the cafe had filled with people who’d come to eat lunch.

  Logan reached across the table and grabbed the bill from where the waitress had placed it an hour ago. I went to take it from him, but he shook his head and approached the counter. It wasn’t right to let him pay. We were just hanging out, so when he came back, I slipped a twenty out of my purse.

  “Keep your money, Butterfingers. It’s my shout.” He walked out of the cafe before I could shove the note in his hand. I’d make sure to get it next time.

  Once outside, Logan gestured toward a gate. “It’s not the right season for berry picking, but let’s check it out anyway.”

  “You can pick berries here? How’d I not know this place existed?”

  Logan winked and tapped his nose, whatever that meant.

  We walked between the lines of tiny strawberry plants while we continued talking. The rows were so narrow, Logan’s hand brushed against mine. The boundary between friendship and romance seemed to be blurring again. Being with Logan always felt so natural; our friendship wasn’t forced. There was something between us that made me relax and forget about everything else.

  “So what about you?” I asked. “Any siblings?”

  Logan glanced away, his jaw clenched.

  My phone rang. A picture of my mother flashed onto the screen, but I flicked it to silent and shoved it into my pocket. Not even a minute later it vibrated again. The woman was nothing if not persistent. A quick glance revealed the vibration was a text from Ella.

  Social Committee meeting. Tomorrow 3pm.

  Great. Nothing about the assignment. I wasn’t about to ruin a nice morning with Logan, so I shoved it into my pocket a second time.

  “Have you heard from Amrita?” Logan asked.

  “No. I guess she can’t help after all.”

  Logan jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “She’ll pull through.”

  “Gosh, I hope so.” I needed her to get that exclusion lifted, because if she didn’t then I was in trouble. I wouldn’t be the only one stressing about the ramifications. If my mother got wind that I was out of the running for president she’d be calling the board.

  After we’d done a full loop, Logan glanced at his watch, his lips pressed together. “Shit. I need to get home.”

  I wasn’t sure what the sudden hurry was, but I didn’t ask. It really wasn’t any of my business. We moved through the rows of plants back toward the gate, and when we were in his Corolla, I smiled at Logan. “Thanks for breakfast. It was nice.”

  “Better than pigs’ snouts.”

  I chuckled. “Much better. Who eats that crap?”

  Logan laughed, and it was good to see his expression more at ease. I watched his hand work to change gears and the feel of it in mine was fresh in my mind. Heat burst through my tummy and I swear I could almost feel his touch again.

  At college, we pulled up in the back car park and I didn’t want our morning to end. Just like that day at the waterfall, I’d forgotten ab
out everything and just enjoyed Logan’s company. Once again, the time had moved way too fast. And now that I was on Oxley’s grounds, all my troubles came tumbling back. I sighed as I reached into the back, but Logan had already beat me to it and held my hockey bag in his hands. I smiled at him across the bucket seats. “Thanks.”

  While I repositioned my socks, he must have jogged around the car, because my door opened. “Didn’t think I was going to miss the chance to walk you in, did you?”

  “Guess not,” I said, climbing out of the Corolla.

  I hugged my tummy as we started walking in. There would be people in the courtyard since it was Saturday afternoon and there was no way I could avoid it. I just hoped that whatever was said wouldn’t be too embarrassing.

  He swung my bag by his side and tossed me one of those gorgeous smiles that made his mouth totally kissable. If I just moved a little closer …

  A wolf whistle cut through the air, stopping my thoughts dead.

  We’d passed the gate and were just entering Back Courtyard. And of course, as my luck would have it, the wooden picnic table was crowded. Empty wine casks and beer bottles, remnants of last night’s party I’d seen this morning, were gone, but the partygoers were sprawled in their place.

  I kept myself facing toward the way I needed to go and ignored the catcalls.

  “Good luck sleeping, man. Taking that on.”

  My bag landed on my feet and Logan was across the courtyard, staring down Christian in the blink of an eye. I’d kill my ex next time he got close enough; he was such a jerk. In the next instant, Dane stepped between them, pushing Christian back, and saying something to Logan that I couldn’t hear. I picked up my duffle bag and started retreating. This was just too much. I couldn’t go anywhere with anyone, without there being a massive scene. Logan didn’t need this. I didn’t need this.

  As my feet hit the stairs, I heard footsteps behind me. “Liv, wait.”

  I turned around to face him. “What is it, Logan?”

  He reached out for me, then pulled his hand back like he’d thought better of it.

  We stood there for several moments, each looking at the other. Whatever he wanted to say obviously wasn’t important. Or he’d changed his mind. I sucked in a deep breath and turned back the way I was headed.

  “Liv …”

  I couldn’t pull enough air past my thick throat to fill my lungs. I didn’t turn around. “You’ve got somewhere to be, Logan.”

  I knew he stood on those stairs and watched me leave. I could feel his eyes on my back.

  He never knocked on my door.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sunday afternoon rolled around and despite staking out the stairs by my room, I still hadn’t managed to catch Ella. My heart stuttered every time I thought of that assignment. It was worth forty per cent of the total grade. So I was keen for this afternoon’s social committee meeting, because I knew I’d run into my project partner there. Honestly, mine and Ella’s lives seemed to connect on so many levels—family, college, class, social committee—it was no wonder we’d been close in high school. Even if sometimes that friendship was rocky. And right now, it surely was. I could have strangled her.

  I grabbed a notebook, pen, and my diary, and pulled the door to my room closed. We had another function (Central Night) coming up that needed to be organised and next term to start thinking about. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Christian, but I’d just have to suck that up and remember why I was there.

  As I walked into the common room, my phone rang. My mother’s image flashed onto the screen. Crap. I’d forgotten to call her back after the berry farm. If I didn’t answer, I’d be in trouble.

  “Mum. How are you?” I leaned against the wall.

  “Olivia. I hope you didn’t answer my call yesterday because you were studying.” Her voice was terse and clipped. I didn’t have time for this.

  “I’m about to duck into a social committee meeting. Can I call you back later?”

  “No worries. I just wanted to confirm your arrival time.”

  “I’m pretty sure my flight gets in at three ten.”

  “I’ll see you in a fortnight then.”

  “Bye Mum.”

  “Olivia …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, Olivia, not yeah.”

  I sighed. “Yes?”

  “Work hard.”

  The line went dead. Sometimes talking to my mother felt like a chore. Taking a deep breath, I slid my phone into my jeans pocket and pushed open the door to the senior common room. It was practically empty. Ella and Christian stood by the mini fridge, chatting, and a senior girl snatched empty food packets off the table and tossed them into the bin.

  I glanced at my watch, and it was smack bang on three o’clock. I even watched the second hand tick. Nope, it was working. “Wow. Everyone’s running late.”

  Ella giggled and Christian said, “Ah, nope. Just you.”

  My gaze slid to the senior, then back to Ella and finally Christian. “I’m right on time.” I pointed to my wrist. “See.”

  “The meeting was at two. You missed it,” said the senior as she walked out of the room.

  “You said it was three.” I frowned at Ella.

  “Oh, did I? My bad.” She tossed her cherry-red hair over her shoulder and slammed her hand against the door.

  “You did that on purpose.”

  Ella shrugged and left the room. For heaven’s sake, what was wrong with her? I pushed the door open and called out her name, but it was too late—she was already gone. Darn it, I needed to talk to her about the assignment.

  “You all right?” Christian said, and it took everything I had just to shake my head. I felt like I was anything but all right lately. And why the heck was he asking anyway? It wasn’t like he cared.

  His hand touched my shoulder gently, and it felt as if I could crumble. My world had completely turned around. Last year I was at the centre of all these activities and now I was scraping around the edges, begging to be let in. My throat began to ache and my chest felt heavy. Crumbling was a very real prospect, but no way in hell was I going to let that happen in front of the guy who’d caused it all, so I forced a smile and said, “Of course I am.”

  Christian’s gaze focused on mine and I knew he could see right through my facade as his cheek dimpled. He always sucked it from the inside when he thought.

  “I’m really sorry about how things went down—”

  “Spare me, Christian. Just don’t bother.” I pulled back from his touch and left the common room feeling as if I’d been muscled out of everything that mattered.

  ****

  First thing Monday morning I knocked on Professor Renfrew’s door and was greeted with silence. Great, he wasn’t in. That darn assignment not sending was a worry and I needed to sort it out. He should be able to tell me why, and maybe even allow me to submit it some other way. I knocked again. And waited. Inside was deathly silent. Great. With no choice but to come back later, I headed for my tutorial, and as I walked through the doorway my gaze landed on Ella’s smug smile. Her back was ramrod straight, her shoulders square, and against my better judgement, I took the seat beside her and dropped my voice so we were the only ones to hear. “You didn’t answer my emails.”

  “I’ve got better things to do than sit on a computer all day, Olivia.”

  “You didn’t answer your door either.”

  “I have a life, you know. Not all of us sit in our rooms all day.”

  I swallowed my smart-alec retort and hissed, “The assignment wouldn’t submit.”

  “Wouldn’t it?” The tone she used was sweeter than candied honey as she twirled a pen between her fingers.

  “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Why should it?”

  “Because it’s worth forty per cent, Ella.”

  “Well, good thing I submitted it then.”

  She freaking submitted it without consulting with me? Well, that kind of defeated the purpose of a group
assignment. Heat curled in my belly and rose up to my head until it was pounding. “But we hadn’t even finished it.”

  She tapped my chin with her pen. “Close your mouth, dear. Do you think I’d turn in anything less than perfect? Relax, Olivia. It’s all good.”

  “You should have told me.”

  The professor walked in, effectively cutting off our conversation. Not that it stopped in my head. I played out so many scenarios and things I could have said—group means together, how dare you sub without us talking, you’re a right royal bitch—that I made myself dizzy, and all while Ella sat there looking smug and amused. I could have killed her for putting me through all that stress.

  As the tutorial wound down and my classmates filed out of the room, I caught Professor Renfrew’s attention.

  “Sir, I was wondering if there’s another way I can make up for the test. Maybe I could write an extra paper, or—”

  “Ms Dean, I’ve already told you. Unless you have a Doctor’s Certificate or other extenuating circumstance, I can’t help you.”

  “But surely, if—”

  Professor Renfrew pursed his lips, shook his head, and left the room. I blew out a long breath and packed up, unsure of how to fix this. I couldn’t just let it slide, but if he wouldn’t let me make it up then I had no choice. I’d have to work extra hard to make sure I aced the next test and the one after.

  ****

  “You’re hiding again.” Molly’s feet, crossed at the ankles, swung back and forth as she sat on the edge of my desk, casting me an accusatory glare.

  “I’m not. I’m just … busy. Friday’s are study days.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t Friday all week.”

  “You know, it’s almost end of term and every class has a major assignment due, if not an exam.”

  “And that’s why you haven’t eaten in the dining hall all week?”

  “It’s quicker and easier to eat in my room.” I let my hair fall forward as I sat on my bed with my Sociology texts spread out before me. An eraser hurtled through the air and thwacked into the side of my head.