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The weeks fly by in a blink and I welcome the mild chill that October brings. Between debutant training and trying to wrap my head around the advanced classes; I spend most of my down time pouring over books.
The girls have been busy over analysing my encounter with Grenville, but I've been focusing on avoiding the shit out of him these last few weeks. Which hasn’t been hard, I’m told that instead of attending usual lessons, Men ‘hold council’ together in a different section in the university... Basically they spend hours measuring each other's dicks. The sexism in this place makes my skin crawl.
The only times I’ve seen him are when he does that irritating thing of sitting in front of me during politics so I can’t see. I practically know every crevice of the back of his head at this point. As much as I wanted to, I didn't approach him to say thanks for returning the parcel undamaged. I tell myself it’s the least he could do after invading my space like that.
I regret sleeping in the moment I come out of my room. Bella and Cora are already up and dressed like super models as they discuss tonight’s rugby game in depth.
“Jesus Lou, you look like shit.”
I give her a sarcastic smile, if only she knew the bags under my eyes were because I was up half the night panicking about the incoming shipment coming from Oscar today. My anxiety spiked a few days ago when Frankie had texted me the details of where and when to meet the delivery boy. At least Oscar wasn't coming himself.
“Here, we got you this,” Cora says, flinging a black t-shirt at me.
I unfold it to see the words “Grenville University” in candy apple red writing complete with the crow coat of arms beneath it. I lift an eyebrow.
“I’m not wearing this,” I say as I throw the t-shirt back.
“Wow you suddenly give a shit what you look like? We must be rubbing off on you...” They giggle together, reminding me of a group of mean girls from secondary school.
“Are you both wearing them?” I say with a sigh.
“Yes! It’s tradition for the debutants to be the ultimate cheerleaders.” Cora beams at me, it seems like she’s genuinely excited for today's match.
“But we did get you this to go with that.” Bella reaches behind her and pulls out the most stunning black designer bag.
I fold my arms, determined not to be bribed by it, it calls out to me as the little golden key chain dangling from it jingles. Damn you Bella.
“Don’t give me that sad puppy face, I saw you eyeing mine the other day- consider it an official induction into our inner circle.” Bella smiles and jingles it a little more.
“Oh, so you’re saying you aren't just friends with me because some scary professor threatened your inheritance if you refused? Aww, I love this sentimental side of you.” I say sarcastically as I snatch the bag eagerly from her hands.
This bag has been in my dreams for about a year. The first time I saw it was while I was working in the corner shop near our flat, Sharon from the street over had managed to get her hands on some decent knock offs from Turkey and all of the girls were wearing them. When I saw the real thing on Bella, I got the same feeling. Like I was a little girl again picking outfits for my Barbie’s at the toy shop. I’m surprised she’d noticed that it piqued my interest. Perhaps I don’t give her enough credit for how observant she really is.
“Tonight’s more about the after party anyway,” Cora says. “It’ll be in the observatory tonight as the sky’s meant to be clear.” She’s definitely excited.
“What time does the party start?” Please don’t say midnight.
“Around 10 after the formal meal, I hear Oxford are staying on their tour bus tonight. How delicious.” Bella mumbles as she takes a sip of her tea.
“I heard the captain’s a bit of a dish. It’ll do me good to get my hands on some fresh meat.” I wince as Cora kicks Bella in the shin with her pointed white stiletto.
“If you mention him again I’ll puncture your eye with these,” she says to her playfully as she takes off the shoe and waves it near her face. To Bella’s credit she doesn’t flinch. I decide not to pry into whatever drama surrounds Cora. I busy myself, making some poached eggs and toast, only half listening to their gossiping behind me.
At least the party starts early enough that I won’t be missed when I go to pick up the shipment. I look down at my arms to see goosebumps appearing on my pale skin, I really hope Oscar doesn’t deliver it himself. Although knowing that sadistic asshole, he probably will.
When I’m done piecing my breakfast together, I set it down next to the girls and try my best to look engaged in their conversation. I smile and nod at the correct times, give my opinion if it's asked but on the inside, I’m plagued with anxiety about tonight. When I’m done, I tell them I'm going to get dressed and head to the library for a few hours before the match starts, but of course this is met with grumbles about manicures and hair care. I shrug them off because I know I need to be in my own head right now. I need to formulate a plan and then a back up plan and then a back up back up plan... Oscar is not the type of man you want to piss off and if my brother is in as deep shit as he says, I have to prepare for the worst.
I’m quick to shower and get ready, but I do manage to have a coffee and persuade Cora to braid my hair into two very neat french plaits. The best thing about Cora is that I don’t feel the need to fill the silence when I'm around her. I can sit comfortably and almost be myself, but with Bella? It’s like I need to constantly be thinking of a snarky retort for a comment she’s going to make. I know her sharp tongue is just a defence mechanism but we’re not close enough yet to have a deep conversation about it.
When I finally walk through the doors of the library, I’m greeted with the comforting smell of books. This is what home feels like. No matter how many times I walk in here, I’ll never get over the scale of the place. Every inch is covered in books, from the black and white tiled floor to the high arches of the ceiling, the never-ending maze of bookcases send me a siren call. I’m not here to study or work on an assignment, I just need the comfort, a distraction from the fact my evening will be consumed with selling drugs on campus. So I pick up my feet and delve into the depths of the decaying tomes, searching for anything that will dampen my anxiety.
I find myself in a section I've not discovered yet. I glance up at the sign hanging down in the middle of the aisle to try and get my bearings, “War” it reads. How cheerful. I carry on, wondering how far back I am to the exit when I hear hushed voices coming from a few aisles away. I know I shouldn’t but I creep a little closer. Whatever they're saying sounds like an argument, but why are they all the way back here?
“You’ll do exactly as I say, out of respect to this family.” It’s an older gentleman, his accent is thick and posh like the rest of them here but I don’t recognise it. Perhaps a Professor I haven’t met yet.
“I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a desert spoon than waste another moment in this pathetic place, father.”
Now that voice I know, although Grenvilles tone is nothing more than utter boredom, you can feel the poison lacing it. His dad is here? Why are they in the back of the library? Why are they arguing?
Then I look up, the answer right in front of me, swinging gently on a ghostly wind as it hangs above the aisles. “The History of Grenville.”
“This is my price, if you refuse to pay it, you leave me with no choice. I’ll expose you if you don’t do as I wish.”
Woah, blackmail? Grenville’s laugh is cold and lifeless as he lowers his voice to barely a whisper.
“If you don’t bite your tongue, I'll rip it out from your throat. I will not have you try to black mail me when...”
Holy shit. I lean in just a little bit closer to... Fuck. I lean a little too hard, and the books fall into the opposite aisle creating a gap in the shelf. It goes quiet, and I hold my breath as I dare to peek through only to find furious silver eyes staring right back at me.
I do whatever a perfectly normal person would do, and run, as quickly and quietly as I can out of the library. As soon as I’m out in the corridor and think I can breathe for a second, I hear the door open behind me again. I don’t look back. I just keep running. I don’t even know where I’m running to, but I hear his footsteps. He’s catching up with me quickly. I skid a little as I turned the corner, ignoring the other students gaping at me. I reach a dead end, so I decide to do the most unladylike thing in the fucking world and vault out of the open window next to me into the round courtyard that leads out to the gardens.
As I launch myself from the window sill, my foot slips on the damn rain covering it, sending me flying towards the ground. I fall straight on my arse, and smack my head on the concrete as I land. The pain is blinding, and for a split second, everything is blurry. I reach up to touch my head, I can’t feel any bleeding, thank god. I need to get off of this floor before he finds out where I’ve gone.
A pale hand appears in front of me, outstretched for me to take. He’s got me right where he wants me. I don’t take it, instead I narrow my eyes at cool demeanor, like he didnt just chase me through the fucking building, and pick myself up.
“Can I help you?” I ask, daring him to make a scene in front of the audience we’ve gathered.
“I saw you fall, I came to check if you’re alright.” His tone is... friendly. But I don't miss the threat lurking within his eyes. I glance around and there are a lot of people watching this little interaction. This must be why he’s playing nice, to protect his reputation. If he picks a fight with me here, everyone would want to know what it was about and why I’d fallen out of a window. Then they would have to find out that I was actually running from him, he was hunting me down because of what I’d heard...
“I think it’s best that we take you to get checked out, you look terribly confused. Please let me escort you.”
I scramble back from him, like a cornered animal. This guy just threatened to rip out his Dad’s tongue, I’m not going anywhere with him.
He cocks an eyebrow and does that stupid thing with his tongue that ignites something in me. So I hesitantly reach out and take his arm, regretting it the instant I do as he leans down and whispers, “Good girl.” I shiver as his breath grazes my neck, but I don’t miss the malice in his voice.
We walk through the crowd, and I keep my eyes fixed on the floor. Wondering exactly what the fuck I should do now.