Page 43 of Duke
“Good to know.” We ride along in silence until we make the turn onto campus. “How did the thing with your advisor go?”
At the unexpected question, my jaw twitches, and I grip the wheel just a little tighter. “It was fine.”
She peers at me. “You’re a senior, so… checking on whether you’ve got requirements met?”
“Something like that.” When I glance over at her a few seconds later, she’s busied herself studying her hands.
She exhales steadily, her jaw rigid. “’Kay.”
Fuck.She totally knows I’m not being honest with her. I turn into the lot and park. We get out of the SUV without a single word exchanged between us. Shit, shit, shit. Slinging our backpacks over our shoulders, I decide the best thing to do is to make an attempt at normalcy. I put my arm around her, like I have a habit of doing. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s not relaxed either. Not at all.
Side by side, we make the short walk to Sydney Hall where Lennon has her biology class first thing. We pass a bulletin board halfway up the steps to the building, and Lennon jerks to a stop as a broken whimper passes between her lips. I turn my head to question her, unsure what she’s reacting so strongly to. Her wide eyes scan all around the immediate area, her composure quickly beginning to slip. What the fuck is happening?
TWENTY-TWO
LENNON
“Lennon?”Mason’s voice comes to me almost as if he’s standing at the other end of a tunnel. My name echoes in my head until I’m forced to look at him.
“Why? Who would do that?” I turn to him, burying my face against his strong chest. His comforting arms wrap around me, though I sense the tension rising within him.
“Kintsukuroi, talk to me. What—?” He stops mid question. His eyes must have fallen on photos of his dirtiest artwork.
“Oh. Fuck. No.” His voice is raw and gritty, and his heart thuds rapidly under my cheek while mine pumps overtime in harsh, painful beats before it feels like it’s plummeted into my gut. My eyes dart around. They’re everywhere. Naked photos of me. They’ve been photocopied and posted everywhere—the ones with degrading, awful things scrawled across my body in charcoal. In a state of disbelief that this could really be happening, I hardly complain when Mason eases away from me, then lunges toward the bulletin board, snatching the papers off it. His head swivels, and like he’s on autopilot, he rushes up the stairs and pulls the copies from the doors to the building, then moves over to the one stuck on the lamp post near the sidewalk that we’d just come up. His movements are jerky and fitful.How the fuck did this happen?My stomach is churning, but watching Mason, his jaw is tight, his mouth a vicious, contorted smile as he pulls every last photocopy down that he can see. Because I understand him the way I do, I know the mad is threatening to blow the top off his head. But then he casts his gaze my way.
I can’t help myself. I’m fully trembling, my hands half-covering my flushed, blood-infused face. With a fistful of awful in one hand, Mason hurries back to me and takes my shaking hand with his free one, hurrying me away from the building. Every so often, we see another copy. I assume they’re all over fucking campus. My heart rate speeds up, my breaths coming shallow. No, no, no. This is not the time for a panic attack.
As if he senses my distress, Mase murmurs low, “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
“Mase. How? Does this mean there are video cameras in your attic? Are these still images?” I’m so confused.
Out of nowhere, some random guy stops us. “Hey, is that Lennon girl your girlfriend? She’s hot. But that’s kinda sick, man.” He shakes his head, eyeing us and laughing.
I look more closely at one of the papers as we pass by. Sure enough, my name is on it.
Mase points to the huge building coming up on our left. It’s the library. I haven’t set foot in it yet. “Let’s go in here,” he mumbles. I nod my agreement, and we jog up the stairs, where Mason stops to pull down more copies of the photos. “God fuckingdammit.”
I feel completely sick, but my focus is solely on getting the hell to somewhere people aren’t. Holding the door open, Mason ushers me inside, then takes my hand and brings me all the way up to the third floor. I pause when we get up there, taking in one shelf after another of old books, a bank of computers, and several doors that are labeled Study Room. It’s dead quiet in this area of the library. I guess not many people venture up here.
An older woman sitting at the desk asks, “Back again so soon? I would have thought you’d have information up to your eyeballs after yesterday.”
I startle, my face immediately pulling into a frown. I’m about to tell her that she’s got the wrong person when I realize she’s not looking at me. She’s staring right at Mason.
“Oh, uh…” He clears his throat. I tug on his hand at the same time my brain tries to process why the hell Mason would be in the library, but also why’d he fib about meeting with his advisor. I put the photocopies of me on the back burner. Plenty of time to think about that embarrassment later.
Mason shoots the lady a sheepish grin. “Yeah. I have some more researching to do.”
“Did you need more help? I can pull up the news articles again for you.” She looks up at him over her reading glasses, which is so hysterically typical of a librarian, I almost laugh, but then again, I’m fairly certain nothing happening right now is funny.
He holds up a hand. “I’ve got it, thanks. I watched how you pulled it all up yesterday. You were very helpful. We’re going to use one of the study rooms, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” She gives him a polite smile along with a reassuring nod. “Good luck figuring out what you’re looking for.”
I squeeze his hand harder this time. Now I really want to know what she’s referring to. He gives the librarian a little wave, then turns, taking me with him.
Inside the study room, there’s nothing but a small table, four chairs, and what appears to be Mason’s guilty conscience. “Could you leave the door open, please.” I drop my backpack on the table, while he sets his on the floor next to the door.
He glances around the tiny box-shaped room. “Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I suggested the study room. I just thought you’d feel better if we were alone.”
