My two roommates started talking, chatting about the trips they’d taken over the summer—Europe for Nora and Thailand for Frank—as well as class schedules and gossip about various classmates. I listened with half an ear, answering questions they directed at me but otherwise letting the flow of conversation wash over me.
I wasn’t sure what it was, but the heavy weight that had dragged at me for the past seven months seemed a bit lighter here, like this place didn’t lay on the same plane of existence as the world I’d left back in California, and therefore my anger and grief didn’t quite feel the same either. I wasn’t sure what to do with those feelings.
My musings were interrupted by a prickling sensation on the back of my neck, and the sudden hush of conversation around me.
“What do they want?” Frank grumbled under her breath.
I turned to look at the same moment Nora whispered, “No, don’t—” and found my gaze locked with a familiar pair of piercing green eyes, watching me from a table halfway across the room.
“They’re probably wondering who you are,” Nora said to me, and I blinked, catching my breath as I realized there were in fact three of them. They overwhelmed the small wooden table with their large masculine forms and their trays piled to overflowing with food.
The green-eyed guy sat on the far side of the table, facing me, and as the others noticed his gaze they turned to stare in our direction as well. I watched covertly as he leaned over and whispered something to his friends. I couldn’t tell what he said, but when the guy to his left chuckled I inexplicably felt heat rise in my cheeks.
I tore my gaze away, looking back toward my roommates.
“Who are they?” I asked, taking a bite of my food in an effort to appear indifferent.
“Guys you should stay away from,” Nora informed me, but she must have seen my confused expression because she sighed and leaned in, pushing her short black hair out of her face. “The weirdo with the dark hair, the one staring at you, is Garrett Silver. He doesn’t talk much. None of them do. To his right, the big one with the long hair, that’s Devan Moore. And the third one, the guy with the glasses and the scar, that’s Micah Hartsough. Now you know as much about them as the rest of us do.”
My forehead creased in confusion. “Are they new as well?”
She shook her head. “No, they’re seniors like us. They’ve been here since we were all freshmen.”
“But all you know is their names?” Nora seemed like the kind of girl who knew everything about everyone.
She shrugged. “They keep to themselves. They don’t have any other friends, and they don’t talk to anyone else. I told you, they’re weird, and you should avoid them.”
I glanced over again and saw that while they had returned to their conversation and their food, green-eyes—Garrett—was still watching me out of the corner of his eye. His leg was bouncing under the table, and I got a sense of that same restless energy I’d felt on the path earlier, like he was working hard to keep himself contained.
Frank put her hand on my arm, drawing my attention back to her. “I know they’re hot. But seriously, Nora’s right. Stay away. There are a lot of…rumors…and you don’t want to get tied up in shit like that.” Her voice was low, and I knew she was trying to discourage me, but I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in closer.
“Rumors?” I asked, taking a bite of my neglected food.
Nora cut in. “Remember how I told you everyone here is someone?”
I nodded, and she went on. “I’ve been in class with those guys for four years now, and I don’t know who their parents are. I don’t know where they came from. I don’t know if they met here, or if they knew each other before. I’ve never spoken more than a handful of words to any of them, and those words weren’t pleasant. But people talk, you know?”
Frank leaned in as well, lowering her voice further. “I heard Micah spent time in jail for breaking and entering over the summer.”
I wondered how she could possibly have heard that already, but I didn’t interrupt her.
“Last year the rumor was that Devan’s parents went missing when he was a kid and they thought he was involved.”
Nora nodded. “I heard that one. I also heard they were raised together in a cult and this is the first place they’ve been to school outside.” She glanced around, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve also heard that they’re all gay, like, together, and that’s why they all spend so much time with each other and don’t talk to anyone else.”
My eyebrows had been steadily rising throughout their recitations, but at that, I choked on the sip of water I’d just taken and began to cough.
Frank snorted as well, then whacked me on the back while looking at her friend. “Seriously, Nora?”
Nora shrugged, a smile playing around the corner of her heart-shaped mouth. “Just telling you what I heard. It’s not like—hey, Julie! Come sit with us!”
She waved over my shoulder, and I kept my head down, tearing off a chunk of bread as I glanced back at the guys’ table from under my lashes.
I wondered about the stories. It was a safe bet that none of the tales were actually true, but at the same time, rumors like that didn’t spread out of nowhere. What could the real story be, I mused. And how was it possible for three guys to spend nearly four years at a school and still be complete mysteries to all of their peers?
Garrett had finally pulled his piercing green eyes off of me and was focused on his friends, so I took the opportunity to covertly study the other two. The guy to his right—Devan, Nora had said—had long, auburn hair that was pulled back in a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck. Any thought that his hair made him feminine, however, was erased by his scruffy, unshaven face. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. He was bigger than his friends, taller and more heavily muscled, like he spent his free time bench-pressing cars or some shit.
At the other side of the table sat the guy Nora had called Micah. He was clean-shaven and well put together, with black-rimmed glasses and a face that belonged in a magazine. That face was currently creased in a broad smile as he laughed at something one of his friends had said. He looked like the least threatening of the three, but then as he tilted his head I caught sight of a scar, visible even from this distance, that ran across his cheek, cutting sharply through his lower lip before slashing across his jaw. I shivered slightly, imagining what might have caused a scar like that.