Page 43 of Royal
She cocks her head to the side. “If you say so, chica. I’ll see you after class.”
“Yep. Sounds good.”
When I finally head out, I walk as fast as I can to the main part of campus. My English class is in Broadmore Hall tonight in one of those huge lecture rooms, so we’ll see how the whole three-hour-long-class thing goes. I’ll keep pinching myself if I have to keep myself awake. There’s no way I’m embarrassing myself in front of another professor.
Part way to the building, I get turned around, so I pause, and regretfully almost trip some guy walking with a cane behind me. “Sorry!” I gasp out, but he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even turn his head to acknowledge my apology. Not wanting to get in anyone else’s way, I get off the walking path so I can try to figure out where the hell I’m going. With my apple in one hand and my phone in the other, I pull up a map of campus. The apple crunches when I bite into it, the sweet-tart flavor bursting on my tongue. I’m still trying to puzzle out what route I need to take when I get a text notification. It’s Kara, so I immediately open it, but then quickly freeze in place as I read.
Just so you know.
And I don’t say this to freak you out.
Royal was at the Frank house today.
Acted completely weird.
What?
I’m telling you, it was bizarro.
What do you think
he was doing over there?
Was he with one of them?
Nope. He was alone.
Basically told me to mind
my own business.
Anyway, I don’t think we have
anything to worry about.
But I thought you should know.
Yeah, okay. Thanks.
I don’t know what to think of that. What would Royal have been doing there? I should definitely try to find out how long it’s been since he was released. Maybe it makes sense that he’d be checking in with them? He did live there. Then again, my parents had shielded me from a lot in the days following that night, but I do remember some of the whispered conversations that had occurred when they hadn’t thought I was paying attention. Something about how the Franks would probably wash their hands of Royal. He wouldn’t be released until well after he aged out of the foster system, anyway.
Younevershould have come here.Those were the words he’d uttered to me in his tirade after he’d chased me down in the woods, and I could swear from the way he was talking that he felt I was encroaching onhisturf.
I release a frustrated breath because the pieces don’t quite fit to explain why he’d have been there if he hasn’t recently come to KU, especially when the Franks weren’t home. Realizing I’ve given way too much time to this, I check the time on my phone.Shit. No, no, no.I can’t be late again.
I pick up my pace and am able to slip inside the lecture room just as the professor is starting to speak and duck quickly into a seat about midway from the back.
As I settle in, I’m pleasantly surprised by this professor, actually. She’s older, but full of energy, very interesting, and constantly moving around at the front of the room. I scan the rest of the class—there’s easily a hundred students or more—noticing most everyone is paying attention to her antics. No wonder her three-hour class is full to capacity.
With about fifteen minutes left to go in the class, I lean down to get a pen out of my bag and a weird sensation slides down my spine. I stiffen, sitting up straight and looking around. Most everyone is taking notes, whether it be on a laptop or with a notebook and pen. And I should be writing, too, but I can’t get the feeling to go away. It’s like I’m being backed into a corner, even though I’m clearly not going anywhere. I swear there are eyes on me, but I can’t find them. And I don’t want to turn around, afraid of what I’ll find. Some soft whispers come from behind me, but I assume it’s just the normal classroom chatter that invariably happens in the larger lecture halls. Or is it? Swallowing hard, I drop my gaze to my computer screen again. The lighting in the room is dim so we’re able to see the screen that’s up at the front of the room—that also makes it easier for me to look around and not let on that I’m doing so. My fingers hover over the keys, but haven’t budged an inch, as my gaze slips from one side to another, looking at all the indistinct, nameless faces filling the room. I really want to turn around, but that would be too obvious. My heart rate steadily climbs the longer I’m unable to determine where the source of my anxiety is coming from.
At two minutes until nine, my attention is snagged by Professor Silverton apparently taking pity on us. She smooths a red tendril of hair that’d come loose during the lecture back into the bun tied low at her nape. “Okay, folks. That’s enough for day one. You’ve got your reading assignments and all the info for the first paper. Do yourselves a favor and don’t wait until the last minute to get started on any of it. That’s a quick road to falling behind in a class that only meets weekly.”
Oh, shit.How long was my attention elsewhere? I groan. On edge from everything else, I missed the specifics of our first writing assignment.
The lights come up in the room, and I automatically feel somewhat better being able to see everyone’s faces. I’m sure I don’t know any of these people, so the gut reaction I’d had earlier, I don’t know how to explain it. Sucking in a breath, I clench my teeth together and look behind me, but it’s nothing but a sea of movement as people scatter.
Shit, I hope Professor Silverton has the information about the project listed somewhere because… yeah. I feel like an idiot as everyone else seems to know exactly what they’re doing, but here I am, staring around in bewilderment as they pack up their things.
