Page 44 of The Masks We Break

I tilt my chin up in question, a lump too big clogging my words.

“I need my GPA for this semester changed. My parents are threatening to cut me off if I don’t pass and I can’t have that happen.”

My eyes widen, the cool breeze around us burning them. I set the lemonade bottle down and shift my body straight. “So you need a tutor?”

Ricky laughs, though there’s no humor in it. It sends a tremor down my arms, and I wrap them around my waist. A scowl overtakes his face. “No. I don’t want a tutor. I need you to pull some strings and get it changed for me.”

Not only does surprise sweep through me at the sudden change in demeanor, but realization starts to emerge from the shadows, settling in the space between us—this act suddenly so familiar.

Did I really fall for the friend bit again?

Still, I ask, “Why do you think I have any control over your GPA?”

He scoffs, rising from his chair and leaning his hip into the railing. His tone rises, and it makes me aware of how quiet the balcony is despite the party downstairs—how alone we are. “You’re telling me you don’t have them switch your grades? That you really take the hardest classes on campus, TA for that dickbag Humphrey, while tutoring, and still have a four-point-oh? At a private college no less?”

The number of times I have found myself angry have been few and far between. But the pure rage that curdles in my gut, sending bile burning the back of my throat is unmatched.

I am many freaking things, but a slacker, or someone who moves their weight around for a grade? Absolutely not.

Pushing the chair back with my hips, I stand and turn for the glass door, moving quickly. My fists clench at my sides, frustration and self-loathing seeping into my blood, tunneling my vision at how I let this happen. How I already know all the signs but missed the ones he was sending. How I was so caught up about trying to forget about Blaze, that I walked right into an avoidable situation.

The warm air wraps around me once I’m inside, but the fragment of relief it gives me is gone in a second as Ricky somehow manages to swing in front of me, blocking my path. He takes a step toward me, forcing me to move back and into an open room behind me.

Panic squeezes my throat and suddenly, I’m aware of how much bigger he is than me.

His next steps are slower, his body caging me in as I continue to retreat. “Must be nice to have your last name. Get everything you want without putting in the work.”

My head thrusts back like I have whiplash, but I continue to keep my eyes on the small space around him, seeking any possible way to leave. “L-look, you’re drunk or something. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

A hideous cackle comes out of what I once thought was a sweet mouth. The Ricky I’d enjoyed getting to know is completely gone, replaced in a matter of seconds by something twisted. Fear injects into my heart, prompting me to run, but he’s too close to get by. “Shut the fuck up and stop acting like you’re so innocent. You know what you need, you little spoiled bitch? A time-out.”

Before I can process what’s happening, Ricky snatches my bicep, just above the elbow, and throws me into the closet I had nearly walked into by my backward steps, slamming my head against the wall. Pain echoes across my skull in pulses as I try to exit the small space, but he slams the door immediately. I press against it but with his body weight leaning into the door, it’s useless.

His laugh continues as the scrape of something heavy drags across the floor and against the closet door, locking me inside. “I want you to sit here for a minute and think about how this could be solved with just a phone call to a buddy in one of those offices. It’d be so easy. Then maybe I’ll treat your cunt to my dick as a thanks.”

“Why would you think I’d help you after you locked me in a closet? Be smart. If anything—” I snap my mouth shut, realization settling in that it wouldn’t be smart to finish that statement.

The smack of his hand against the door jolts my spine upright. “Because you’re a smart girl, and you know I’d find a way to ruin you if you didn’t.”

With that, his steps retreat, a door slamming closed behind him.

Fear and anger are one heck of a combination. They battle for dominance in my chest, somehow both claiming victory. I’m too mad to think straight. Tears burst from my eyes at how stupid I am for letting this happen. How I let a smooth talker con me into a friendship. But then I’m also freaking terrified. I’m in his frat house, with his friends. I’m scared of what he’s going to do when he comes back.Ifhe comes back. Who’s to say he won’t forget me and leave me for someone else to find? Someone worse.

The thought falls into my gut with a heavy thud, making bile tease the back of my throat.

Please, please don’t be dead.

I try to push against the door once more before giving up and grabbing my phone out of my back pocket. Two percent. Relief blooms heavy in my chest, a light so bright it clears my head even if only for a second. I’ve only ever been stupid for one other man, and that guy was worth it. My thumb hits the call button without waiting for my permission.

“Hello?”

Hearing his voice for the first time in over a month crashes through my panic, casting a safety blanket over my racing heart. Whether I want to admit it or not, and even though I have no freaking idea why, Blaze has always been my sanctuary.

“Blaze? I need-d you.” I take a shuddering breath, tears continuing to pour from my eyes and sear down my face. Only now, it’s from relief, a part of me knowing no matter what’s happened between us, he’ll come.

There’s a slight pause before shuffling happens in his background. “Where are you?” His voice is dark. It’s the same tone that comes out when his mask is up and he’s guarded from everyone.

“Omega Phi-i.”

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