Page 40 of Filthy Elites

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry you caught my cold. But why are you calling me?”

“Because everything hurts, and I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“But you don’t care if I do?”

There’s a pause, and then he replies, “I guess I don’t.”

I’m about to ask what he needs, but I stop myself. Why would I help Jason without asking for anything in return? He’s giving me an opportunity here, and I’d be a fool not to take it.

“Let me get this straight—are you asking for my help?”

“I’m asking you to fix what you caused,” he grits out.

“I didn’t make you sick. If you hadn’t broken into my room, you wouldn’t have caught what I had.”

“You forgot to add fucked you senseless.”

My face becomes warmer. Damn him for making me blush even over the phone.

“Whatever. The bottom line is that you need my help, and that’s going to cost you.”

He laughs, which turns into a coughing fit.

“God, you learn fast. Fine. Name your price.”

“I want you to delete the music room video from your computer and destroy any other copies you’ve made.”

There’s another pause, which is followed by more coughing. He sounds worse than I did yesterday.

“Fine. Can you please get here quickly? And bring supplies. I got nothing.”

“What kind of supplies? You have to be more specific.”

“Painkillers, cold medicine, maybe some food.”

I sigh loudly. “I only have painkillers and that will have to do. I’m not going shopping as I’m not feeling one hundred percent myself.”

“Just hurry. My room is 309.”

He ends the call in his usual rude style. Now that I got him to agree to delete that video, I don’t feel like a doormat for helping him. I had packed the painkillers already, but I return to my room to change clothes and fix myself up a bit.

I’m preening for Jason. Someone shoot me.

I fill my bag with the few dry snacks I have and then, on a whim, I bring my violin. Maybe we can practice later if he’s up to it. Before I head out, I send an email to the school’s administration explaining that we’re sick.

I wish I didn’t bump into anyone as I head to Jason’s room, but classes are about to start and there’s an exodus of students making their way from the dorm to the school building. Very few people acknowledge me, that is until I stop in front of Jason’s door and knock.

A couple of guys walk slower and stare as I wait for Jason to open the door. The rumor mill will be working furiously today.

“Come in,” he croaks.

I open the door slowly and stick my head in first. The shades are closed, so the room is almost pitch black. I can barely make out Jason’s shape on the bed. The guys in the hallway have stopped moving altogether and are now gossiping like two little bitches. I’m tempted to tell them to get lost but, in the end, I opt for not giving them more source material. I walk in and close the door fast before they can spy inside.

“Finally,” Jason says. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

“Not when I’m getting something out of it.”

I drop my bag and violin case on the floor, and make a beeline for the window. Then I flip the shades open to let the sunshine in.

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