Grey: The Encounter (Spectrum Series Book 1)

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Grey: The Encounter (Spectrum Series Book 1) Page 17

by Allison White


  “Shut up.” Jaimie nudges her girlfriend’s knee with her own and slides down the bed and faces me with a concerned expression, head tilted. “What’s wrong, Bam?”

  “Don’t call me that!” I jump to my feet with my hands curled into tight fists. I glare at her. She flinches back and purses her lips. I un-ball my fists and sit back down and put my face in my hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It’s just—” I stop talking and wave my hands, standing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “There’s no need to be so damn cryptic,” Julia huffs.

  I cut a brief glare at her before realizing I’m hostile toward them for no reason. It’s not their fault I’m so agitated. It’s Grey’s. So why should I be yelling and snapping at them? That’s not fair.

  “Your buddy Grey’s messing with my head,” I tell her, moving to the closet. I don’t want to gauge their reaction to my admission. I bet they didn’t know that we’ve been—can you even call it hanging out? I guess they didn’t know we’ve acquainted ourselves with one another.

  Julia bursts into laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” I mumble, pulling out a navy-blue sweater. I assess the cashmere fabric and battle if I should wear it or the official college over-sized hoodie. I choose the hoodie. It is a school event, after all.

  “That fucker isn’t my buddy,” she responds.

  I lift an eyebrow at Jaimie, the saner one of the two.

  “It’s true. He’s not really that close of a friend.”

  “Then what is he?”

  She pauses and tilts her head back and forth, searching for the right word. “An estranged friend?” She shrugs. “We all used to be really close when we first came here, but then he got really serious about his fighting and he sort of drifted from us. But we have been linking up more than usual. Actually, a lot more than usual…and I think it’s ’cause of you.” She nods at me, and I scoff louder than I intended.

  “Yeah, right. Like I’m the reason he’s being nicer.” I slip off my cardigan, leaving on an ironed white t-shirt. “If anything, he’s meaner and moodier.” I frown as I pull on the hoodie.

  I take my hair from under the thick fabric and gather every strand. I walk over to my dresser and search for a black band to hold my hair up in a ponytail, but strangely come up with nothing. What the—I have—had—a handful of bands in a small container on here. Where the heck did they go?

  I turn around with a slight squint of my eyes. “Hey, did either of you use up all my hair bands?”

  Julia scoffs. “As if I’d put this beautiful mane up.” She shakes her messy curls for emphasis with a dark smile.

  Jaimie shrugs. “Same. Especially not after I spend two hours curling my hair every morning.” She shakes her shoulder and hair side to side in a gentle motion. Her shiny hair glides like a soft waterfall, and I agree.

  But if they didn’t take them, then who did?

  It takes me a second to realize who the culprit is. “Hot dang it!”

  Julia makes a whooping sound. “Someone call the cursing police!”

  I ignore her sarcastic reply and let my hands and hair go. “Your friend stole all of my damn hair bands!”

  “Who?” Jaimie creases her eyebrows.

  I throw my hands up theatrically. “Grey!”

  Julia rolls on her side in a fit of laughter. “Imagine him wearing a ponytail!” I give her a confused look, and I shift my eyes to Jaimie shrugging.

  “She’s higher than a kite at this point.” Jaimie shrugs.

  I arch my eyebrows and walk over to my rack of shoes. “You don’t say,” I mutter. I can’t believe he would do something as childish and mean as that! Who steals a girl’s collection of hair bands, anyway?

  “You look really pretty with your hair down…” Grey’s words ring through my head, and I groan louder than a starving bear. That bastard! He is so selfish!

  “Are you okay there?” Jaimie asks cautiously.

  “No, I am not okay here!” I jump to my feet with a pair of Uggs in my hands. “Your friend—or whatever the hell he is to you—won’t stop antagonizing me every chance he gets!”

  “Cool your tits, dude,” Julia warns, sitting up and putting her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Jaimie nods in agreement.

  I close my eyes and nod. “I’m sorry. I really am. He’s got me all riled up. I shouldn’t let him get to me, I know.” After I take a few deep breaths, I peel open my eyes and smile at them. Maybe if I act content, my erratic emotions will fizzle out.

  “I’m being rude. How was your day? Are you guys going to the football kick-off party tonight?” I ask them as I sit back on my bed and step into the right boot.

  “Fuck no!” Julia exclaims. “It’s colder than Elsa’s balls out there.”

  I roll my eyes and look at Jaimie. She smiles at her girlfriend before saying, “Not our style. We’d much rather go to a frat party since all the preppy douches will be at the bonfire.”

  “Smart.” I genuinely smile at her. But that means all those preppy douches will be at the bonfire. But that shouldn’t be much of a problem since I will have Mason by my side. Speaking of which…I glance at the text sent from him stating that he’s ready and stand after putting on my other boot. “I’ll see you guys later.” I grab my shoulder bag and phone, then head the door.

  “Good luck with the douche-weebs!” Julia calls after me.

  ***

  Julia was right. The party is full of “douche-weebs.” Not that I’m judging anyone, but there are a lot of them. Tall frat boys crowd the grounds, wearing reversed baseball caps and saying the word bro in almost every sentence. But I’m not judging.

  The party itself is on a large part of the quad near the football stadium. There are a lot of people here. I want to say a good chunk of the campus has decided to attend. And boy, do they have a lot of pride in their team and school. Some came dressed in dark blue and white painted faces, clothes, and even brought handcrafted banners. You would have thought this was the first game of the season. But according to Mason, the first game is two weeks away.

  “Don’t stand too close, or you’ll get your hair caught on fire.” Mason pulls me back a step and I look at him with a confused expression. He nods at a pile of logs I failed to see, considering how dark it has become, with his beer can. “The bonfire.” He looks around and says, “They should be lighting it soon.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.” I smile at him and rub my shoulders. “I would not look good bald.”

  He chortles after taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, I’m sure you would look great with or without hair.”

  “Then you’re wrong. The only thing good about me is my hair…and my brains.”

  He laughs and nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

  “Do what?”

  “Tear yourself down. Both are amazing.” He looks at me and pushes my hair over my shoulder.

  “Why, thank you.” I jokingly bat my eyelashes, and he laughs and nudges me again, and I nudge back. His smile stretches from ear to ear.

  “But, wait…no, yeah, I kind of see what you mean with the whole horrendous bald thing,” he says with squinted eyes. I gasp and slap his shoulder, and he bellows in laughter. “I’m kidding, of course.”

  “Oh, yeah. Of course.” My jeans pocket buzzes, and I fish out my phone. My mother’s calling. A harbored sigh escapes me, and I imagine what criticizing lecture she’s prepared for me.

  I’m about to answer when I glance up and take a look around. I am at a school event, and I’m with a friend. I’m happy, contented. She’d only talk my ear off and kill my mood. I bite my lip before shutting off the screen and sliding my phone back in my pocket.

  I playfully roll my eyes and continue talking with Mason. My eyes briefly glance at the bonfire. I take note of what I presume is a faculty member walking up to the logs. Mason is talking, but I’m so fixated on the member looking down at the logs, I can barely digest the words he’s saying
. My limbs stiffen, and my breaths become hollow. It’s as if my body is preparing for the worst, but I don’t know what exactly. The faculty member bends, and I instantly know why my body was clamming up.

  My eyes land on a pair of eyes that nearly camouflage into the night. I can feel my heart jump in surprise, and I take a step back. You have got to be kidding me.

  A burst of roaring flames flies into the sky, and a string of cheers and deafening pop music fills the air.

  “What is it?” Mason screams over the noise and touches my hand. I flinch and look at him.

  “Nothing,” I tell him with a small smile, but it is something. It’s—

  “Why, hello there, Princess.”

  It’s Grey…and Diana.

  Forget my mother, these two are more than capable of ruining my night.

  “What do you want, Grey?” I reluctantly face him.

  “I could use some great head right about now,” he says, and I shudder in disgust.

  “You make me sick.” I take Mason’s hand, ready to walk away, when Grey grips my other wrist. I look into his eyes while a smile mirroring a snake’s slithers across his face. “Let go of me.”

  “You let go of me.” He winks at me and glances at my hand. I look down too to find my fingers curled down onto his rough palm. It’s as if my body wants to make me suffer. I uncurl my fingers and snatch my hand away from his.

  “Don’t touch her ever again,” Mason warns, his eyes turning dark, teeth clenched. I anxiously watch the throbbing vein in his neck.

  Grey tugs at his bottom lip and chuckles. “Why should I listen to you?”

  “If you don’t, I’ll tell her what happened to Rose and warn her explicitly to stay the hell away from you.”

  Grey’s face pales and his nose flares. He takes a swig from his beer, his eyes unmoving. “Fuck off.”

  What is it with this Rose character? And how does Mason know her…? That doesn’t matter right now. What does is that we get as far as possible away from this psychopath.

  “Leave us alone, Grey.” He slides his eyes back to mine, and a smile cradles his face. I get five steps away before I hear him call out—

  “Why so serious, Princess?” A vicious trail of laughter follows. I feel tears prick my eyes.

  Mason tugs at me and forces me to stop walking. I try to look away and shield my frantic, bubbling emotions, but he follows my wandering eyes and puts his hands on my shoulders.

  “Hey, you okay?” he asks gently.

  “No!” I snap. I take a few deep breaths. I’m becoming wound up like earlier. “I’m sorry, he just knows how to irk me.”

  “Trust me when I say I know what you’re talking about,” Mason says. It sounds like something is hidden behind his voice. “Never mind that. Let’s just get some hot dogs and heat up by the bonfire. I’m sure that’ll cheer you up.” His smile is sweet and warm and holds no alternative motive, unlike Grey’s…

  I shake my head that my mind loves to think about that toxic guy and give him a smile mirroring his own. “I’d love that.” He smiles wider, takes my wrist gently in his hand, and walks us over to one of the tables that hold a display of assorted food and beverages. There’s hot dogs, hamburgers, punch, cookies, and more. I take the hot dog Mason offers me and a cup of fruit punch, after Mason tested to see if there was any liquor, which there wasn’t. Apparently, some find it amusing to spike drinks despite the off-chance you plan on being sober.

  The next hour or so is spent with us sitting by the fire on logs that were put in a circle around the raging bonfire, laughing and talking and getting to know more about each other. I learned that he’s a Leo, after college he plans on attending law school, he’s estranged from his parents after they kicked him out for transitioning into a male, and he hates the color gray. I agree on that part.

  “Tell me about you,” he says, taking a bite of his third hot dog. I also discovered he really likes hot dogs.

  “But I already told you everything.” And there isn’t a lot to know. I’m a simple person.

  He waves his hand. “About your family life.”

  I clam up and look at the fire.

  “Or not…you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, picking up on my extreme hesitance.

  “No, no, it’s okay.” I brush back a curly hair behind my ear. “My parents weren’t around much. The housekeeper, Louise, practically raised me. Cliché, I know.” I laugh even though I know there is absolutely nothing funny about it.

  He shakes his head. “That isn’t funny.”

  My lips twitch in a smile, and I shrug before facing him. “But they’ve only been like that because…w-when I was ten, we—um—we got into a fatal car crash. My little brother, Jonah, passed away. He…he lost too much blood. I…I—I wasn’t able to get help in time.” Tears blur my vision, and I suck in my lips. Leave it to me to bring down the mood with my tragic past.

  He wraps an arm around me and rubs my shoulder. “That isn’t your fault. And I am so sorry about what happened.”

  I nod and blink rapidly, wiping away loose tears. “I’m pretty sure it is, but thanks, I guess.”

  “Well, isn’t this sweet?” a familiar voice bellows in front of us.

  I look up, then look away. “Can you not right now?” I ask in the politest way I can.

  Grey tilts his head and drops his smile. “What’s wrong?” Oh! So now he cares about me?

  I scoff and rub my hands together frantically before narrowing my eyes at him. “Nothing. Can you just leave us alone, please? I’m trying to have a nice time tonight.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but an ear-shattering voice slices through the tension, shattering it.

  “I’m back, babe.” Diana hops to Grey’s side and bites her lip, holding up a beer to him, but it looks like he couldn’t care less. His eyes are zoned in on mine. “Here ya go! Fresh from the cooler. I had to fight a nerd for it. Here—”

  “Fuck off, Diana!” Grey holds up a hand and smacks the can away. It lands on the ground and cracks open. A thin layer of the dark alcohol sprays at me and Mason, and I scream at the coldness dripping down my shirt and my hair. Mason follows suit, kicking the gurgling beer away. I groan and ball my hands into fists. “I am so sorry—”

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I scream up at Grey.

  “Liv—” Mason tries to take my hand in an attempt to calm me down, but I snatch my hand away from him and turn to him, teeth bared.

  “I’m sorry, but I think I should leave. I’m not in the festive mood right now.” My cheeks hurt from the tight smile I give him.

  “Liv—” he tries again, but fed up with Grey and my spiking blood pressure, and the great desire to choke Diana, who smirks at me like the devil himself offered her a free nose job, I step back and leave him and Grey and the evil Diana—who probably did that on purpose—behind.

  I take large steps toward the dormitory. It’s approximately five minutes away, but with the fast, determined pace I’m keeping right now, I’ll probably reach there in two minutes. The flashing image of Grey’s nauseating smirk and Diana’s matching smile puts an extra pep in my step.

  Why can’t he just comply with my explicit request to leave me alone? He says I’m a prude and that I’m just something he can toy with when he’s bored, then acts like he actually cares about me the next minute. His moods switch from hot and cold so much, I don’t know how to deal with him anymore! Not that I ever did.

  “Liv! Wait up!” he screams after me.

  “Piss off, Grey!” I scream over my shoulder. Why is he following me now? Can’t he just pick a damn emotion already? Or another victim?

  I storm into the dormitory and literally sprint to the elevator. I jump in and press my floor. I press the closing door option as fast as I can, hoping and praying that the doors close before he catches up. My finger turns red and my bone aches, but I keep pressing and pressing and pressing. I see him turning the corner, hear him curse, and see him running toward the el
evator, but the doors close before he can get in. His wide, black eyes and open mouth are the last things I see before I see an idea flash through his eyes. They looked to the right, where the stairs are, and his lips curled into a smile. And then the doors shut.

  “Dang it!” He’s going to take the stairs. But I live on the seventh floor…I would think that he wouldn’t be able to reach there before I’m able to lock myself in my room, but then I think of how athletic he is and his long legs. “Come on, come on, come on…” I anxiously tap my feet with my hands shaking on my hips.

  The moment the elevator stops, and the doors spread open, I race out of the box toward my dorm room. I reach my door and fumble with my keys. Down the hall, I hear the distinct sound of a door vaulting open. I turn my head and find Grey sprinting toward me. He looks like an angry black blur. My eyes widen, and I turn my head, fumbling briefly with the key.

  Come on nerves! Don’t let me down!

  I insert the key and throw myself inside, but so does Grey. I turn around to find him staring at me, his chest moving up and down lightly, a sweat barely broken on his forehead.

  Nerves. You suck.

  “What could you possibly want from me, Grey? Do you want to tell me I’m pretty then make out with Diana? Want to insult my clothes then tell me this hoodie makes my eyes pop?” I exclaim. I know I sound insane, but he’s made me this way. Insane!

  “Your hair is down.” Does he have that short an attention span?

  I crease my eyebrows together. “What? Didn’t notice it as you were flaunting your girlfriend in front of me?”

  He scoffs. “Diana is not my girlfriend.”

  “So why’d you bring her here?” I honestly didn’t even think he’d come. Like Jaimie and Julia, I thought it wouldn’t be his “scene.”

  “I didn’t bring her anywhere. She literally followed me there,” he claims.

  I roll my eyes and turn away from him. “As if I could ever believe you.”

  He walks around and forces me to look into his eyes. “Why do you care, anyway?”

 

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