Shh! (11 page)

Logan was sitting on the same table as the day I’d had lunch with him. Literally on it—his feet lazing where his butt should have been, and his butt was where the food generally sat. His wrists balanced on his knees.

“Bananas.” The look he gave me was dead serious.

“Bananas?”

He nodded. “Bananas.”

“Apples?”

“Nope, bananas. That’s what this whole suspension is.” He jumped down from the table, and a tiny part of me was excited he had those faded jeans on again, or another pair very much like them. He pulled his grandpa cap into place and used his head to beckon me toward the library. “Come on, we’re going to do something about it.”

I frowned as I watched him walk away, unsure of just what he thought he could manage. When he reached the glass doors that led through the main foyer, he stopped and turned around. “I can’t do this without you, y’know.”

Still rooted to the spot, I shook myself free. It was a mystery just how he thought he could fix this mess with the campaign. He shrugged at me as if to say hurry up, and I finally moved. Once we were through the building and back outside, Logan swung down to the students’ association, and my gosh, the guy was a genius. I’m not sure why I hadn’t thought of them straight away. They acted as a union of sorts that helped students in all ways imaginable, as well as handing out condoms, which was the extent of their services most students used. He grabbed my hand and slid his fingers between mine. “We’ll fix this.”

At that moment I had every faith that we somehow would. Perhaps it was because I felt all kinds of awesome—not only was he standing up for me, Logan was holding my hand like he cared about me. Having someone on my side was an amazing feeling.

He pushed the door open and we stepped inside. A student-aged girl sitting behind the information desk looked up and sure enough, huge glass bowls containing foil packets of just about every colour sat on either end of the counter. She appraised Logan with a onceover that lasted entirely too long for my liking. Even our linked hands didn’t seem to stop her.

Logan released me and leaned against the counter. “We’ve got an appointment with the Support Officer.”

“Yes …” She glanced at her computer. “Miss Dean is it?”

“That’s the one,” Logan said.

“Just take a seat and Ms Sarin will be ready for you in a moment.”

Logan spun around and took one of the hard plastic chairs, which stood in a line by the window. I sat on the seat next him.

“This was a brilliant idea,” I said. “Thank you.”

Logan smiled.

After a few minutes, a lady—much younger than I’d expected, and wearing pretty casual clothes, jeans and a cardigan—emerged from a tiny hallway. Her gaze settled on Logan and me, her brow pinching slightly. “You must be Miss Dean?”

I stood and extended my hand. “Olivia Dean.”

The woman’s smile was tight. “Just this way.”

I went to glance back at Logan, but he was already by my side. We followed her into a small office and she closed the door behind us.

“Hi, Amrita.” Logan greeted her kind of warmly, as if they knew each other. “Thanks for squeezing us in.”

“It was nothing a little shuffling couldn’t accommodate.” She smiled at Logan and I found myself feeling uneasy at their familiarity. Was this woman—who looked barely older than us—a notch in that desk? I slid to the side of my chair.

“So, what brings Miss Dean here today?” she asked, like I wasn’t even in the room.

“Liv has an issue with her presidential candidacy—”

“I am in no place to offer help in that regard. We’re owned by the student association, Logan, I can’t bestow any favours on candidates.”

The hopes I’d only just found a few minutes ago felt dashed. Of course she couldn’t. It made perfect sense. If word got out, she’d lose her job. Or if I didn’t get in, the first item on the new president’s agenda would be to replace her.

“It’s not like that.” Logan leaned forward in his chair. “Just hear us out.”

Amrita steepled her fingers and leaned back in her chair. “Five minutes, Logan, and no promises.”

I swear he didn’t even draw a breath before jumping in. “Liv’s presidential candidacy has been suspended unfairly by the board and we want them to lift it.”

“I don’t even know why they’ve suspended me,” I added.

“Have you tried asking them?”

“Well, no, but …”
But what?
How did I explain that I hadn’t because I was pretty sure of the reason? I snuck a glance at Logan from the corner of my eye. He looked so sure of himself. I really didn’t want to come across as ungrateful for what he’d done for me that night, but the truth of the matter was he was involved, and mentioning it might get him a name as a troublemaker. Something I really didn’t want to do.

I closed my eyes and sighed. “I think it’s because I was involved in an incident at The Bar.”

“What type of incident?”

I twisted my fingers around the hem of my blouse. “Violence.”

“Hmm, well the bylaws state that improper conduct equals immediate disqualification.”

Logan snapped up, his back ramrod straight. “There was no improper conduct. Olivia was the victim. She shouldn’t be punished because some dick got all up in her face and harassed her. Besides, she wasn’t the one who hit him.”

Amrita’s brow furrowed. “Who did hit him?”

“Not relevant,” Logan said, almost before she’d finished asking.

“Did you hit him, Logan?”

It was only for a second, but I caught Logan’s gaze drop to the floor as he said, “Yeah, and what of it?”

Amrita was silent for a few moments while her gaze lingered on Logan, as if she could make him look at her out of sheer will. He didn’t. Finally, her gaze slid to me, and she said, “Leave it with me.” She slid a notepad and business card across the desk. “I’ll need your details and any relevant correspondence.”

After I scrawled down my name, student number, and phone number, she stood. Logan and I both rose to our feet and Amrita showed us to the door. Even though there were no guarantees, it was good to know she was helping. Before pulling it open, she said, “I’ll be in touch soon.”

I gave her a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”

She returned the gesture then her gaze slid to Logan. “Make sure you stay out of trouble. You’ve got too much at stake. I’ll see you for our regular meeting?”

Logan walked out without saying goodbye. A little shocked by his rudeness, I said, “Thanks again,” and hurried to catch up.

“What was that all about?” I asked, noting his scowl.

“I don’t need any damn lectures.” Logan swung his bag onto his shoulder. “I got to get to class.” He leaned in, his breath on my cheek. My legs almost gave way at the near kiss, but he pulled back, his expression still stony. “I’ll catch you later.”

He walked toward the admin building, leaving me regretting saying what I had to the welfare officer. I shouldn’t have pulled him into my issues like that. My problems were mine alone, and I’d have to deal with them. It was really nice of him to set up the meeting, but Logan didn’t owe me anything.

I called out his name.

Logan spun around, and I shouted, “I’m sorry.”

He brought his hand to his mouth, blew me a kiss, and smiled as he turned back around the way he was headed.

Well, that was kind of weird. He’d seemed so happy to see me, but now he couldn’t get away quickly enough, which kind of stung, even though I shouldn’t let it. After the day we’d spent together yesterday, I had assumed he’d want to hang out. I glanced at my watch, and realised the next class didn’t start for half an hour, so Logan shouldn’t have been in a hurry at all. Clearly he just didn’t want to be here with me for whatever reason.

I decided to head to my next class early. Maybe I could use the time to catch up. As I walked across campus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Logan’s weird behaviour.

When I got to the lecture hall it was empty. It was a blessing, really, that there wasn’t a class before mine. I took my usual spot in the centre of the room and pulled down the desk, then set to work. The time passed quickly and before I realised it, the hall filled with students. Ella claimed the desk beside mine, and heat rushed up neck to my cheeks. I’d successfully avoided her since overhearing that conversation in the bathroom, and she hadn’t sat with me in class either. I guess our volatile friendship had always been more competitive than true anyway.

“You weren’t in the tutorial yesterday.” Her glare felt accusatory. “You missed the mid-term quiz that’s worth ten per cent of the final grade. And where’s your input for the group assignment for Torts?”

Crap. Double crap.
How did I forget about the test? My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach and Ella sized me up, her green-eyed gaze flicking from the work spread out before me to what I was certain was my now pale face.

“That’s due tomorrow, Olivia. We need to get it organised. What’s wrong with you lately?”

The answer rolled right off my tongue. “Maybe if people would give me a break and stop spreading stupid rumours, I could concentrate on schoolwork.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t keep the entire floor awake every night, people wouldn’t talk about it.”

Ella didn’t give me a chance to respond. She stood and moved to the back of the room, as far away from me as possible. The way my stomach turned and bile rose in my throat was a sure indicator that I was going to throw up any second. Missing a compulsory test was bad. It didn’t matter that it was only worth ten per cent, compulsory was compulsory. It could cause me to fail the entire class.

I drew in a slow, steady breath and let it out again as Professor Renfrew took position at the front of the room. When did Ella get so nasty? Making crap up was one thing, but claiming it happened every night … my cheeks warmed at the thought. The days we’d been friends in high school had never felt so far gone.

The lecture started with Renfrew using a laser to point at a list projected on the screen. The topic didn’t even register in my head. I’d never experienced an hour that dragged so long.

I gathered up my stuff and rushed to the front of the theatre as my classmates filed out. Professor Renfrew shoved papers and books into his satchel.

“Excuse me, Sir, do you have a moment?”

He looked up. The middle-aged professor was the toughest of my lecturers this year. With a reputation for being strict about grades, I didn’t stand much of a chance, but I was determined to plead my case anyway.

He nodded for me to continue and I bit down the bundle of nerves which had just hit me. “I … ah … I missed my tutorial yesterday, so didn’t sit the quiz. Is there—”

“Do you have a doctor’s certificate?”

“No.”

“Was there a death in the family?”

“No.”

“Any other extenuating circumstances?”

“Umm …” Did being kidnapped by a hot guy count?

“Well, why did you miss it?”

“I … I … forgot all about it.”
Cringe.
His barrage of questions left me floundering, and I couldn’t think straight.

“Then no, I can’t give you a special exemption. A ninety per cent attendance rate is also compulsory for tutorials. I trust you’ll remember that, Miss Dean.” He picked up his bag and walked out.

I couldn’t fail over a stupid compulsory test. That wouldn’t happen. There had to be a way to make it up. Heat burned in the back of my throat and chest. My eyes began to sting, but I wouldn’t cry. The door to the lecture theatre slammed as he exited and I jumped like someone had fired a shot.

It would be damn near impossible to make sure I maintained a high distinction average in this class. In just a few weeks, my whole world had gone from right on track to falling apart at the seams, and there was nothing I could do to stop the disaster.

****

Wednesday and Thursday came and went and I didn’t hear from Logan. By Friday morning I had myself convinced that even if nothing had really happened, he’d counted me as a win and lost interest. Which made me feel like utter crap, even though I wasn’t sure why. I should be grateful we’d both dodged a bullet. I needed to concentrate on my classes, and he didn’t need my issues bogging him down.

At the beginning of the year, I’d worked my schedule so I had a free full day each Friday, and gee was I thankful for that. Still behind on my work, I went to the library to catch up. My mind continued swirling around what Ella had said and the conviction in her voice. She’d been nice for the past year, so the turnaround was a bit of a shock. I got my portion of the group assignment to her on Tuesday night. It was due today, and I hadn’t heard boo from her or the other girl in our group.

I set myself up in one of the huge desks for a day of study. I probably should have been in the Law library, but I’d come to Dixon instead. It was easier to blend into the larger library and hide myself away amongst the books.

I flipped my laptop open and hooked into the university’s Wi-Fi. First job on my to-do list was to email Ella. A bunch of new emails pinged into my inbox, but I ignored them while I concentrated on what I needed to say; instructions on where my section fitted into the assignment, and a plea to send through hers so I could mesh them together. I attached my work again for good measure, and CCed both of my group members. Hopefully they’d like what I did then we could submit with hours to spare. After it had sent, I checked out my mailbox and blow me down, there was an email from Logan. I wanted to be angry that I hadn’t heard from him sooner, but my heart fluttered as I clicked it open.

Sorry about leaving in a hurry the other day. Don’t stress about the suspension, Amrita will sort it out.

Not even so much as a ‘see you soon.’ I tried to ignore the disappointment that spiralled through me that there was nothing more as I flicked from my emails into my working document. Whatever game he was playing I didn’t have the time or energy to be part of it, even if my heart argued otherwise.

CHAPTER TEN

My phone beeped with an incoming text. Logan’s name flashed across the screen and I pushed it to the side then clicked to refresh my emails. It wasn’t that I didn’t care he was texting, but rather that there was still nothing from either Ella or the other girl about our Torts assignment. It was due in five hours if we submitted via the online portal, which was the last way left to submit, since we’d missed the five p.m cut off for delivering in person. The fact we were so close to deadline had me more than a little anxious. I drummed my fingers against the hardwood of my desk in my dorm room. Maybe I should just go knock on her door.