Page 75 of Brutal Kingdom

“I bet if you read the note it’s for someone else.”

“Ms. Felding, we apologize again for the previous dorm mix up. The dorms in our residence halls remain at max capacity. Fortunately, we realized there’s a surplus in your account pertaining to lodging. Rather than refund the money, we have reallocated it to pay for your room here in Kennedy Hall. We hope you enjoy your new accommodations. Sincerely the housing staff.” When she’s done reading, she says, “Damn girl. I wish they’d find some extra money in my accounts and move me up too.”

We’re on a fourth trip up from the lobby, and Noel, a man of his word, has taken off his shirt; treating the girls hanging out by the front desk and in the lounge to a show. I hadn’t realized I’d accumulated so much stuff. Or maybe it’s the same amount of stuff and it just feels like it’s more because instead of packing last night, Kassidy and I watched movies in her dorm, talked about our plans for Christmas break, and how things are going with my research into Imogen’s family tree. Now, I’m carrying my clothes on hangers instead of having them neatly fold in my suitcase or trunk.

“Just one more trip and I think we’ll be done.” Noel says, dropping the box with my sketch books next to the sofa.

I hand him a bottle of water, giving us all a moment to catch our breath. He guzzles it down and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “I still can’t believe you lucked up with a room here. They must’ve realized it was one helluva mix up.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m nervous about getting comfortable in case they move me again.”

“They won’t.” Kassidy says coming out of my bedroom. “You read the note. This place is paid for. Stop worrying and enjoy your new digs. And if you can’t, you can go live with my roommates and I’ll live here.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. What’s a little house swap between friends?” She squeezes my shoulder when she walks by and tells Noel break time is over. He flexes his pecs at her, then follows her out the door.

I ordered a pizza to thank everyone for helping with my move, but I had to go down to the lobby to get it. I’m stepping off the elevator on my floor when the door at the end of the hall opens. I smile, ready to greet my new neighbor. My face falls when I see who it is. I try not to jump to conclusions. He could just be here visiting friends, but my brain won’t let me settle on that theory.

“Howdy neighbor.”

See what I mean. This is a sick joke. “Yeah. No. I’m not staying here.”

“Really? Because I got a memo to expect a new neighbor named Jordanna Felding.” He steps closer, lifting the corner of the pizza box to see what’s inside. “So listen, this is a quiet floor. We don’t like riff-raff coming in and out all times of the night. You need to be very selective about who you put on your access list.”

“Selective? How about I start with the boy’s basketball team and the choir?”

His eyes gleam, a wolfish grin spreading across his face, when he says, “If you want to play with balls and hit high notes. Just come knock on my door.”

He leans down, lips grazing my cheek, and he whispers. “Welcome home, baby.”

I was keeping my distance, giving her time to get settled and now I find out she hasn’t been staying in her room. I’m glaring at the back of her head in our critique session. Does she really not want to live in the most coveted dorm on campus because we’re neighbors?

I get why she’d want to keep her distance. She’s still mad about our little game. Or rather, she’s mad that I revealed my identity, and she put an end to our little game. But Kennedy Hall is the safest dorm on campus. I can’t do anything when she’s running around town, but at least I can provide a safe place for her to sleep on the nights when she’s not in my bed.

Jordanna’s painting is on the easel at the front of the class. She listens intently as people talk about her use of colors, the width of her strokes. Her use of light and shadows and how they feel. They’re the nicest critics. At this stage of the game, we should be ripping each other to shreds. I speak up and say what no one else wants to say.

“It’s a bold choice of color, but there’s something missing. Is this person an angel or the devil?”

“Good question, Mr. McKay.” Professor Song says.

Jordanna answers, “Why do they have to be either?”

“They don’t, but you’ve painted them in a way that makes them need to choose to ascend into the light, or plunge into darkness.”

“They’re not on any type of precipice. They’re sitting in a moment.”

“Then, there’s your problem.”

She turns, snarling at me. “What problem?”

“You’ve painted yourself into a corner and don’t know how to get out.”

“Yes, Mr. McKay. Exactly. We should never just have an end story to our work. People need to see it as it is today, and something different tomorrow. We have to give our work a past and a present. Excellent.” He looks over at Jordanna. “Yes, Logan has great ideas. We want to know devil or an angel, savior or temptress. Just clear your mind and let it happen.”

She’s glaring at me. I wink and say, “Angels are sweet, but devils are so much more fun.”

Jordanna’s banging on my door. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist coming to curse me out after I put her on the spot in class. I open the door, wearing nothing but my jeans, giving her a minute to eye fuck me, before dragging her attention to my face. Talk first, and then we can get back to the naughty things going through her head.

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