Shh! (5 page)

“Have a good night,” he said as he turned and walked toward his car.

Molly was looking at me expectantly. I’d never eat the whole thing, so of course I could share it with her. “I’ll pop some on a plate and you can take the rest.”

“I haven’t seen your new room. I thought maybe we could eat together?”

Warmth spread inside me. It felt kind of nice that Molly wanted to hang out, and somehow I trusted that she wasn’t in this for anything more than greasy food. “Um, okay, sure.”

We walked in total silence until we were inside my room with the pizza box sitting on the desk that spanned wall to wall under my window. Molly closed the door behind us then blurted out, “I meant it when I said I don’t believe that rumour, and even if it was true, who cares? It’s no one else’s business anyway. You’re a great girl, Olivia, and that’s what matters.”

I stopped dead, my hand hovering above the plates stored inside my food-stash cupboard. My heart hammered in my ears as a lump formed in my throat. Molly was too freaking nice, and it was a pity her words weren’t true. It did matter, more than she’d ever know. It mattered so damn much, and if being a great person was the be all and end all, then how come she was the only one who’d been nice to me all week? Stalker Boy excluded.

“You’ve been hiding, but you shouldn’t let them push you away like that. Who cares what that dumbass ex of yours said? Hold your head high, Olivia. You’re way better than every single of one those guys.”

With that my eyes welled, and I still didn’t turn around. I just let my hand drop to my side and for the first time since this all started, I cried.

Humiliation is an awful thing. It shatters all your thoughts, all your hopes, all your belief in yourself, and leaves you feeling completely exposed. And that’s exactly how I’d felt all week, as if I were naked and needed to hide, to run from my shame and never let it catch me. Now, I felt like it actually had.

The thing was, even if Molly thought I was better than the rumours Christian’s public break-up had started, there was no way I could hide from them, and there was no way to undo them. Those rumours hadn’t abated, so Ella was sure to tell her parents.

Suddenly Molly’s arms were around me and her hug felt almost ... comforting. Something loosened inside me.

A knock sounded on my door.

Unease speared through me, making my breath shake.

I pushed away from Molly and she raised a brow in question. I shook my head. There had been lots of knocking on that first Sunday, and more ever since. I quickly learned it wasn’t worth opening the door to see who was there.

“Olivia. Open up. I know you’re hiding in there; I can see your light on.” The voice coming from the other side was Savannah, and anger blasted through me. I yanked the door open and pulled her inside my room then slammed the door shut.

Her eyes narrowed, her bottom lip slackened, and she took a step toward me like she was going to hug me, but I took a step back. Some friend she was. I’d thought we were pretty close, but I’d been wrong. She hadn’t bothered to call by since two nights ago in Christian’s room.

She pulled her hand into the sleeve of her oversized football jersey. Probably Dane’s. “I’m so sorry—”

“If you were sorry, you would have stuck by me, Savannah.”

“I tried—”

“No you didn’t. You hooked up with Dane and nothing else mattered.”

“Oh, Livia, it’s not like that at all.” She reached for my hand which was hanging by my side, but I took another step back. If she knew me at all she’d know I hated my name being shortened. Heaven knows, I’d told her enough times.

Molly moved to stand by me.

“Babe, the rumours aren’t serious. The boys were pretty smashed at the courtyard party, and—”

“I don’t care.”

“Please, Olivia, hear me out.”

I felt like I was shaking. The whole room could have been closing in, and the only thing I could see was Savannah’s betrayal.

“Get out.”

She fisted a hand on her hip. “Absolutely not. Pull your head in and listen to me, Olivia Dean. I had no idea about those rumours until just now when Dane told me, and yes I hooked up with him. If that’s a crime, then I’m as guilty as a peppermint choc-chip ice cream. But that stupid rumour is just that—stupid. Who in their right mind would think you buff the beaver to tease Christian, and tell me this—what red-blooded male wouldn’t love every second of that anyway? A hot chick in his bed, mining for gold? Of all the dumbass things for him to make up … seriously, the guy’s an idiot.”

A flush crept onto her cheeks, and Molly shoved a hand over her mouth which did nothing to stifle her snicker.

“What?” Savvy demanded.

“Buff the beaver?”

Savannah’s mouth twitched as she fought to hold in a smile. “Come on …”

“Buff. The …” A laugh erupted from Molly like lava bursting from a volcano. “Beaver.”

And that was enough to set Savannah off, too. Soon both of them were laughing so hard they clutched their sides. Savvy wriggled her eyebrows at me and I shoved her in the arm as a giggle bubbled in my throat.

She was right; it was stupid.

****

The weekend passed rather quietly. Our hockey team had a bye on Saturday and I had a Law assignment worth twenty-five per cent of my total grade due the following week, so I kept my head down and studied hard. I much preferred the subjects on the arts side of my degree than the ones on Law, but I came from a long line of attorneys and Dad said arts would get me nowhere fast. Being a Dean meant I had to uphold the family values and name, so an Arts/Law degree was my compromise—at least then I could enjoy a few subjects.

As I walked across campus on Monday morning, I found myself looking forward to Sociology. Once I reached the lecture theatre, I took my usual seat and pulled out my tablet, ready for the lecture to begin. I tapped through my notes as the room filled with the buzz of voices. Funny, since Friday night with Savannah and Molly, I hadn’t felt as humiliated and I’d been able to hold my head somewhat high with my friends by my side. But sitting here alone was a different story. My tummy fluttered, and I couldn’t sit still in my seat. It seemed like forever until the middle-aged lecturer arrived, in his usual bustle.

“Morning, everyone.” He peered over the top of his glasses. “Looks like some of you had too good a weekend, hmm?” He paused, and someone snickered up the back. “This week we’re moving onto globalisation.”

A wave of air hit my cheek, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Logan slide into the seat beside me. “Hey, you,” he said as he pulled out his notebook.

The lecturer stopped mid-speech and once again peered over his horn-rimmed glasses, his gaze zoning in on the place where we were sitting. He cleared his throat and said, “If everyone is quite ready, Mr Hays, globalization is not just about economics …”

His voice faded out to the usual monotone drone and my gaze slid to Logan’s hand, watching it move so easily over his notepad. He was a lefty, and his long fingers gripped the pen right near the tip, dwarfing it. Tendons worked in his wrist and up his arms as he wrote on the paper, and a thick vein wove from his wrist all the way up to his bicep then disappeared under the sleeve of his grey shirt.

The pen poked into my side and I jumped, my gaze flashing to Logan’s. He pointed toward the front of the room and leaned in close to my ear. “Pay attention.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. Oh my gosh, I was totally checking him out. Again. And he totally caught me. Again. What in the heck was I doing? I didn’t like this guy. I couldn’t like him. What would people say when Christian and I had only just broken up? I focused my attention on the lecturer, but didn’t hear another word he said. Logan and Christian kept bouncing through my head like they were players in a tennis match competing for my attention. Attention I didn’t want to give either one of them. There was no way I was opening myself up to the hurt again.

Finally the lesson finished, and I jumped out of my chair, pushed past Logan, and made for the door. I really didn’t want to give him the chance to call me out on my blatant staring. There was no way I could talk myself out of that corner. Besides, I had to be at my next lecture before it started.

****

Econ Law passed much slower than Sociology, and by the time we reached the end of the lecture my tummy was grumbling so loudly Ella swung around from the row in front and gave me a filthy look. Thank gosh I had an hour off between this class and the next.

I left the Law faculty and headed straight for the cafeteria. It was a nice sunny day and lunch outside would warm up my freezing toes. The weather was getting cooler and the days shorter. This godforsaken town had far more cooler months than warm, so soaking up the rays while they were still about seemed like a great idea.

When I got to the outdoor section of the cafeteria, it looked like I wasn’t the only one who’d had the same idea. The place was crowded.

I clutched my bag to my chest and took a deep breath before walking through all the people. Then I grabbed a fresh salad roll and a bottle of mineral water and took them to the counter. As I stood in line, I glanced around, hoping to see Savannah or Molly. But neither of the girls were there, even though Molly had said she’d be having lunch on campus today and that she had a break around the same time as me. Guess I’d beat her to it. I had no idea if Savvy was even on campus, but the cafeteria was one of her constant haunts.

“Enjoy Socio today?” Logan’s voice sounded right behind me, and I swear I jumped three metres in the air.

He chuckled.

I spun around, my mouth working to form words.

All serious, he nodded toward the counter. “Pay attention.”

Sure enough, the serving lady was looking at me expectantly. I scrambled through my bag until I found my purse and retrieved it, making sure to hold it extra tight lest I have another clumsy moment. Once I’d fished out some money, I handed it over to the woman, who snatched it away with a frustrated grunt. Then I stepped to the side and looked around for somewhere to sit. Logan had managed to completely frazzle me yet again.

There was an empty table outside, right in direct sunshine, so I headed toward it. A pencil-thin girl with beautiful almost-black hair that hung straight to her hips swooped in at the exact same time. She looked up with a tiny smile, knowing full well she just stole my table. I placed my water on the far end anyway. I could share.

“I have friends coming,” she said, her voice prissy.

Sighing, I picked up my water and looked for somewhere else to sit. There were no free tables, but Logan sat by himself at a spot that half rested in a delicious beam of golden sunlight. He shot me a smile and patted the seat beside him.

Ooo-kay.
I took a deep breath to brace myself against the brain-fog being near him caused, and strode over to his table.
Don’t act like a fool.

Logan’s smile doubled.

“Hey there, Stalker Boy.”

“Hey back, Butterfingers.”

Oh my gosh. He didn’t just go there. Butter was slippery like ... well like what those rumours implied. I pulled my bag off the table and to my chest. Maybe I couldn’t do this after all.

Logan’s hand caught my wrist, and his gaze landed on mine. “I know I smell bad, but you should hang around, you’ll get used to it.”

Whether I liked it or not, I had to face reality. Life was hard. People would tease me, and that wasn’t the end of the world. I took a long breath and sucked in my bottom lip then sat back down on the opposite side of the table. Seemingly satisfied I wasn’t leaving, Logan opened the plastic around his bread roll and took a bite. Strange, my appetite had all but disappeared, so I snapped open the bottle of water and set my salad roll aside.

“So,” Logan said, his lunch poised in his hand, “you coming to the gig on Friday night?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He took another massive bite. His roll was almost gone.

“Because I don’t want to.”

I couldn’t stand the thought of being out at the bar, amongst a crowd of people who had all, no doubt, heard the rumour. Yes, I wasn’t letting it get to me, but I wasn’t a glutton for punishment either. Besides, I had another paper due.

Logan’s roll was gone in one last bite. He balled up the plastic and tossed it at the bin, scoring a perfect shot. “You should go,” he said, then cracked open his can of soft drink and took a sip. His blond hair swung forward and he tucked it back under the funny cap he was wearing. Reminded me of a grandpa hat in the old movies; a puffy bit that was press studded to the actual cap. On old men it looked out-dated; Logan made it look sexy though. It was amazing what a cheeky smirk, and gorgeous eyes could pull off.

“Suppose you’ll need my Socio notes again.” He looked up at me through ink-black lashes, his expression serious. “Do you routinely not take notes in class, or am I just—”

“Tell me, Stalker Boy, how did you get my email address?”

“A magician never divulges his secrets.” His lips quirked then dropped, as he fought to keep them straight but failed. Logan flipped a yellow sheet of paper in his fingers, over and over.

“A magician—”

My words were cut off by a forced laugh, cold, with each
ha
pronounced individually. I looked up to see the table thief swing her leg over the bench Logan was sitting on so she straddled it, facing him. Her long hair hung forward like a black barrier as she leaned in toward him, blocking their faces both from sight.

“I heard you were back in town, hot stuff. It’s great to see you.”

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, I picked at the label on my water. Maybe she was his girlfriend, and if that was the case then he was a player. More reason for me to stay well away.

Logan grunted and my gaze flew to him of its own accord.

He’d leaned back so I could see his face, and his eyes were on me.

“I’m free anytime you want to party.” The girl placed a hand on Logan’s forearm, and trailed a line with her fingers up to his shoulder.

“Great,” he said, never breaking our eye contact.

With a huff, she pushed herself forward, so as she rose her breasts brushed against Logan’s arm, then she settled her gaze on me. I didn’t know this girl, but her stare made me feel like slinking under the table. Instead of being a coward, I sat up straighter, and met her glare for glare.