Page 2 of Sweet Punk
I hate the look in her eyes. She turns and walks away without answering me.No.She’s most definitelynotokay. Considering my limited but fucked-up experiences with women—well, one woman—I’m sure as hell not the person she needs to help her. But I also don’t know how to turn a blind eye now that I know she’s struggling with something.
TWO
STAR
Well, that was awkward. And downright humiliating. Kellan never did say why he followed me tonight, and I wonder if it has anything to do with what happened last week. But no matter the reason, he shouldn’t have done it—being seen with me is the worst thing he could do.
While we stood outside the dorm, waiting for the fire department to give us the all clear, my senses had tingled with an internal alarm blaring louder than Duke Hall’s. I didn’t think it through, I simply knew I couldn’t stand there another minute. Especially not with people I care about huddled around me. If there’s even a slim chance that the shit show that is my former life has followed me here— I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I swear I’d caught a glimpse of a worn leather jacket on someone moving through the crowd.
Could I be overreacting? Absolutely. Do I feel like that’s the case?No.
Heturned eighteen in August. I should have prepared myself for this, but I don’t know what I could have done differently. Being at Shadow River University helps. In the back of my head, though, I know without a doubt that if he wants to find me, he will. If this isn’t all in my head, and he’s actually followed me here, I don’t know how I’ll cope, how I’ll lead any sort of normal life.
I walk quickly toward the Bean, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds the entire way there. I started coming here earlier this semester to hang out sometimes while Raven worked. This place is always filled with people, and to me, it feels safe. Not a minute goes by when I’m ever alone, not to mention this particular coffee shop has long hours. It’s open super early so students and professors alike can grab their cup of joe before class, and it stays open later than late for those who choose to bring a laptop and study here. The best part is, no one bothers me when I come in, and all it costs me is a cup of coffee. And to me, coffee in exchange for peace of mind is a no-brainer. Because the dorm? I’m not entirely certain I’m safe there, and that thought chills me to the bone.
On autopilot, I enter the Bean, and the invigorating scent of coffee rolls over me like a great caffeinated wave. Even though it’s Friday night, there are students dotted around the room with their laptops, hammering away at their keyboards. Andbecauseit’s Friday night, there are also a lot of couples here, as well, grabbing coffee together. That’s something I wish I could have. But I can’t. There’s no way I can let anyone get too close to me.
Hurrying up to the counter, I place an order for my usual—a mocha—mostly because I can’t resist the hint of chocolate, but also because it’s simple and no one ever messes it up. While I wait for my drink, I turn slightly, resting my hip against the counter as I scan each individual face, looking for any hint of black hair or darker-than-sin eyes, but not seeing anyone who matches that description.
“Here you go.”
I startle at the sound of the deep voice behind me, my heart lodging painfully in my throat as I turn around. The barista nudges my mocha toward me with a curious smile. “You okay?”
I exhale an awkward breath that is part relief, part embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry. I was thinking about something else.” I shoot him a grateful smile, collect my piping-hot coffee, and head for the row of stools over at the front window. Not many people sit over here, and I appreciate the fact that I can see every single person who enters the building before they ever set foot inside.
I live in a constant state of awareness, always on edge. It kinda sucks.
Heaving out a sigh, I sit down on the stool on the far right and blow carefully on my drink before taking a sip. A notification pinging on my phone grabs my attention, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Lux and Raven are wondering what the hell is going on, especially once I texted them that I was coming here instead of heading back to the dorm. With Kellan. Because they have to know he came after me.
Why had he followed me? I chew on my lip as I think about the poor guy I literally pepper sprayed a week ago. I would have thought he’d want zero to do with me after that. But there he was, running halfway across campus. I’m impressed he’d kept up with me. As far as I know, Kellan works out with Maddox and Hawk… but that’s no match for the miles I slog in the mornings before anyone is awake. I’ve got myself trained to be able to run far and fast if the need arises.
Would Kellan have come all the way to the Bean if I hadn’t realized he was behind me? Then what would he have done? Watched me from outside? Come in and pretended like he was in the mood for a coffee, and it’d been nothing but sheer coincidence that the two of us wound up in exactly the same spot?
I take another sip of my coffee, then lick a bit of foam from my upper lip as I stare outside into the dark. Had Kellan told the guys I’d gotten him full in the face with that pepper spray? I swear it’d felt like someone was stalking me. And hewasfollowing me back to my dorm—the dorm where we both live.Fuck. I’m such an idiot.And apparently trigger-happy.
I let myself fall headlong into the memory of that day.
* * *
My heart races.There’s someone following me. Stalking me. I grip the tiny canister of pepper spray that hangs from my lanyard and turn with the cap flipped up and my finger on the depressor. I’m so startled to see a figure in a dark hoodie and jeans continuing to come at me that I shriek and fire away.
Whoever he is drops hard to his knees, then falls forward, bracing his big body with his hands. He doesn’t make a goddamn noise. Not a yell or a shout or a curse. After what feels like an eternity, he finally manages to grit out, “Star, what the hell?” That small question sends the hooded figure into a coughing fit.
My name. He knows my name. And holy shit. I recognize the voice. Realization dawns on me. “Oh my God. Kellan, is that you?”
He raises his head, blinking hard and gasping for breath.
Oh, shit.I pepper sprayed someone who… well, I think I consider him a friend.Shit.I squat down next to him, gently tugging the hoodie off his head. “I’m sorry. I thought—”
He shakes his head and holds up a hand.
My teeth clamp down hard on my lower lip. My chest tightens. What should I do? Out of desperation, I scramble to pull my phone from my pocket. I quickly search for a remedy on Google and see that we need to flush his eyes and the surrounding skin with lots of cool water. I glance at the canister that I always carry around with me. Apparently, this shit is oil-based and not easy to get off. And sort of like poison ivy, we want to keep it from spreading around if we can help it. I can’t believe I did this to him.
“Kellan, we need to get back to the dorm to rinse this off. Flush it out of your eyes. And whatever you do, don’t touch or rub them. It’ll only make it worse. So says Google.” I huff out a breath and give him a tight smile that I’m unsure he can even see because, holy fucking shit, I’ve practically blinded him. “Do you think you can get up?”
He nods, still not speaking. I haven’t a clue if he’s not talking because he’s in too much pain, if he’s unable, or if he’s simply pissed at me. I cringe. I hope it’s not the latter. Not that I want him to be in so much pain that he physically can’t speak. I grasp his bicep, helping him balance as he stands up.
Continuing to blink rapidly, he points in the direction of the dorms, which I take as a signal that he’s ready to walk. I duck under his arm and slip mine around his back. His big hand clasps my shoulder and squeezes. I guide him to the dorm as quickly as possible, getting the odd look or ten from other students who pass by. I ignore them and forge forward.
