Page 28 of Brutal Kingdom

“Well, you see, you’re transferring buildings. I wanted to put you in West Hall but that’s full now too.”

They just let anybody be in charge. Shouldn’t someone organized be handling dorm assignments? “I don’t want to presume I understand what it takes to do your job, but feel free to work your mojo and put me somewhere else that isn’t full. It doesn’t have to be a senior dorm.”

“Jordanna, I wish it were that simple.” He ruffles through some papers. “But we closed out your housing file. Like I said, when I didn’t hear from you, I assumed you made other living arrangements.”

“What on earth would make you think that?”

“A lot of our students choose to get an apartment close by when they become seniors.”

“Right, but I’m a scholarship student. You couldn’t possibly have thought I’d fit into that category. My scholarship covers room and board on campus. I’m supposed to have a guaranteed place to stay.”

“I assure you, I will find a place for you, but it’ll be Monday before I can put you back in the system.”

“Lemme get this straight. You’re saying I have nowhere to stay this weekend? Do you often just toss students out on the street?”

“I’d say get a hotel room for the next few days. Or go home.”

“Even if that were an option, all of my stuff is sitting in front of Carter Hall. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

“Jordanna. I really wish you would’ve responded to my note.” He says, as if this mix up is all my fault.

“For the last time,I didn’t get a note.”

This can’t be right. Staring up at the crumbling building, my heart plummets, and I break out in a cold sweat. How is this even structurally sound and passing board of health standards for housing? I know we’re a private university, but there is a safety requirement.

Stepping inside, I take inventory of my new digs. No working elevator. Rusty locks on the front door. It’s like something out of a horror story. I reach the seventh floor of the building and step into the darkened hallway. Through the dust covered windows a beam of light shows a light switch on the wall. I flick it up and down. Great.Of course it doesn’t work.

Mr. Atkins and I spent another fifteen minutes on Friday night haggling over my predicament. He finally agreed to have the security guard on duty that night open the storage locker so I could put my stuff in there, but lodging for the weekend I had to find on my own.

I made multiple trips on foot to store my stuff. Whoever cleared out my room wasn’t even neat about it. My saving grace was I never finished unpacking. It was almost eight when I finished that night. Students walked by laughing at me, saying my living arrangements finally fit my bank account. I didn’t understand what they meant. Now I do.

My back and feet were killing me and my clothes clung to me by the time I crawled the stairs to Kassidy’s room. I was grateful for the shower and stretched out on her floor, waiting for her to finish with her last mock therapy session. Afterwards we ate popcorn and watched a movie, and I put the dorm move out of my head for the weekend, sure that things would be fine.

This isnotfine. This is a dusty death trap. With all the dark corners and crevices, I get why it’s called the dungeon. There’s supposed to be enough housing for everyone and seniors are guaranteed a spot in a senior dorm. Turns out there’s been a few juniors upgraded this year and they can’t possibly be relocated the way I was. I roll my eyes at that. Mr. Atkins wouldn’t dare put someone who actually pays this school’s high ass tuition here.

There’s only one way this could have happened. And it wasn’t because of a lack of communication on my part. It had to bethem. It’s not enough that I went into the crucible because they threatened Summer, who doesn’t even go to this school. But now they’ve had me evicted, and placed here, just because they’re raised to believe the world is theirs to manipulate and control however they see fit. This is a direct attack and proves they know my files are gone.

Even if I still had them, I wouldn’t trust them to hold up their end of our agreement. They’d find a loophole, or send someone I can’t trace back to them, to harass my mother just to prove a point. The only way they’ll stop is if someone more powerful than them makes them stop.

There’s really only one way to come out on top. The BPs respect money and influence. Neither of which I have.Yet.

I shove my shoulder into my dorm room door to close it. Plopping down on the threadbare mattress, I pull out the stack of papers I’ve been hanging onto all summer. There’s really no other way to do this. I sign my name next to the sticky tabs with bold strokes. Having finally made a decision about my future.

Forget grad school or career ambitions, or even turning in step-dick for embezzlement.This,deciding to file these papers, is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.

THIRTEEN

LOGAN

My back is facing the door, but I know Jordanna has entered the classroom. The students have a tell that alerts me to her presence. It’s as if they collectively hold their breath when she walks in. It’s the same thing I do when I look at her. Only able to release the air when she settles in her seat far away from me. The feeling only lasts a few seconds, but those are interminable. I fight the urge to touch her, or look her way.

I don’t trust myself not to react irrationally where she’s concerned. I’ve been having dreams about squeezing my hands around her throat, ending her life, and sometimes it’s while she’s coming apart on my dick. I know it’s not normal, but Jordanna and I moved well past normal eons ago. Shit, we never were normal. Just two people pretending to be vanilla with picket fence dreams.

I have no choice but to turn and take my seat when the professor comes in. I don’t know if I move too fast or Jordanna moves too slowly, but somehow we’re directly in front of each other. She looks a mess. Seriously. There are bags under her eyes, what looks like foam in her hair, and I feel like she’s wearing the same outfit she had on two days ago. To complete the look, she’s wearing glasses instead of contacts.

I take a seat where I am, instead of moving to my usual row. She plops down a couple of rows ahead of me. Not ten minutes into the lecture, her head bobs as she falls asleep. The guy beside me notices too. “Somebody had a good night. So who do you think it was? Noel, Sterling, or was she in the middle?”

That thought definitely makes me homicidal because it reminds me of all of their betrayals. Jordanna shifts in her seat, stays awake for another few moments, then drifts off again. Class dismisses, and she’s still sitting there. I go outside and stand across from the building just to see how long she takes to come outside.

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