Page 73 of Campus Daddies

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SOFIA

Jordan is by my side after I leave the ballroom, and she drives me back to my townhouse. She doesn’t say anything except to direct me to give her my keys, sit on the couch, drink the herbal tea she makes me.

Oh, my God.

That just happened.

And beyond the indignation, past the flare of anger, I’ve gone numb from the shock of it.

My phone keeps lighting up on the coffee table, message after message coming in before Jordan flips it over.

“They can wait.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep, slow breath. “I told you about Squires cornering me a few weeks ago, right?”

“You did. And Leann’s change in behavior. This, though, is so out of bounds that I can’t even fully wrap my head around it yet. I can’t imagine how you feel.” Her hand braces my knee in support.

“I don’t know what to feel right now.”

My phone pings and pings and pings, and I’m overwhelmed. I have to at least see what messages I’ve received, know what I’mup against. Then, all of my worrying, the spinning replay of what just happened. The look on my dad’s face.

I didn’t even search out the guys. I didn’t want to implicate them any more than they already were. Didn’t want to confirm anything.

At least if I know, I can spiral toward some kind of solution.

Jordan holds me back when I reach for it.

“I’m going to go crazy without knowing.”

“You’ll go crazy either way. Just let yourself process this part first before you pile on. Trust me. Okay?” Her arm is around my shoulder, squeezing me as I lean into her.

“Okay. Thanks for having my back.”

“Always.”

She lets me wallow a little longer, asking me if I want some chocolate or if I need anything else, but the peace of sinking into my own despair only lasted a few minutes.

I reach for my phone again, and Jordan sighs.

“Just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Not in the slightest.” I swipe through my notifications without unlocking my phone—messages from Brax, Cedric, and Orion, some from my mom and dad, others from people in the department and Film Club.

I click on one text from the department head that reads,We need to talk when you get the chance. Please reach out.

My heart goes into a frenzy. Shit. Maybe Jordan was right and I should have just left my phone for a little longer.

A firm knock sounds against my door, and Jordan peeks through the peephole before glancing back at me and opening the door to my mom.

She steps in, clasps Jordan’s arm, and whispers to her. My friend nods, comes back to kiss the side of my head, and grabs her keys.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. You have class. You should go.”

Jordan frowns. “Call me later. Even if you don’t need me.”

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