“Crosshall,” I replied. My insides dropped with regret, and I mentally kicked myself for telling him. I was certain the other students would find out about what happened, just from that name alone. It wouldn’t be recorded, I was almost sure of that, but a lot of people knew about what happened and would have, no doubt, spread their version of events. I just hoped they didn’t make their way across two cities.
“Crosshall Brow?” he asked, his surprise evident in his higher pitch. I nodded. “Jeez, why the hell did you leave there? This is a shit hole compared to that place.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “A change was necessary,” I lied—kinda—desperate to end the topic of my train wreck. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really don’t want to discuss this, and I should get back to my project. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
He held up a hand again and dipped his chin. “Sure, of course. This is me pulling my nose back out of your business.”
I waited for him to focus on his own work before I settled on mine again.
I shouldn’t have told him.
My class went by uneventful after that, which I was grateful for. But, there was still English class to go, and after the incident a few days ago, I wasn’t looking forward to what could possibly await me. So, when I turned into the room, slowing down so much that students almost walked into my back, grumbling as they walked by, I scanned the area by my desk for anything out of the ordinary.
Quinn wasn’t there, and neither was his friend. I blew out a slow breath and walked to my space, sitting down and relaxing as I took out my notebook and pens, ready for the lesson.
I took in the plain yellow walls, the color faded and marked, and the off-white border around the top, meeting the ceiling of the same shade. Strip lights hung in uniformed lines, the fluorescent bulbs gently humming as they added the needed light to the dusky room.
It was a stark contrast to the enormous and modern lecture hall I’d studied in at Crosshall. That bright theater sat over two hundred students. This room had seven rows of five seats, all in desperate need of an update. I ran my hand over the rough wooden surface, barely decipherable names and doodles scratched into the old varnished desk. The indents were much darker than the oak-colored wood, time adding layers of ink and dust.
Don’t complain, Kinsley, you’re still studying at least.
Yeah, I could’ve easily have had to re-do an entire year someplace else, but that wasn’t an option for me. I had plans, and they didn’t include an extra year in college. Besides, the practice my mom worked for had an office in this area, and a place had opened up. Things were working well for her. Well, I was glad at least something good came out of a shitty situation.
I shook off the thoughts that threatened to drag me down into a bad mood, but they were beaten by the figure that walked through the door, not a moment later.
Wearing dark-blue denim jeans, a worn look making areas lighter, and the usual leather jacket, was Quinn. I rolled my eyes when he saw me staring, a smirk tilting up his now bruise-free mouth, reaching his healed eyes.
“Good afternoon, Kinsley,” he drew out, the rumble in his voice vibrating between us when he leaned toward me as he sat.
“It was,” I snipped, my long-forgotten teenage brat coming to the surface, ready to throw insults at a moment’s notice. A barked laugh sounded beside me, but I was determined not to turn to him.
“Yeah, and now it’s the best. Afternoon. Ever,” Quinn mocked, his impression of a peppy school girl grating on my nerves more than it should’ve. “My day is officially made.” Josh guffawed behind his hand next to him, and I held my tongue instead of lashing out. The resentment I had inside of me was making me ill, and taking it out on other people had to stop. However, for Quinn, I found myself making allowances. “Ya know,” he said, leaning his elbow on his desk, the movement causing the flaky metal legs to creak. “If you need to speak up about something, then you should.” My nostrils flared. Something about Quinn riled me up so bad. “I can see that you want to.” He took a deep breath and slowly released it in my direction, like during poorly performed yoga techniques. A minty breeze with a hint of sweetness hit the side of my face, swirled around me, and my tongue darted out to lick my lower lip.
Take your own deep breaths, Kinsley. In. Out. Calm down.
“I don’t want, or have, anything to say.”
Quinn seemed to move closer to me, and it was then I realized that my desk was still in its original position, less than two feet away from him. He was uncomfortably close, but I didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just let him have his moment.
“Hm, I’d disagree.”
I could hear the humor in his rough tone, but I was adamant not to rise to the bait he was so obviously fishing with. It was no use, though. I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut for long.
“Look, Quasi,” I snapped, facing him. I turned so fast, my ponytail swung over my shoulder. His eyes landing on it, then whipped back up to my face. “I’m here to study, and I think you should too. Can you just not speak to me? That would be so great.” I smiled tightly, then faced front.
“But I want to talk to you,” he whined, followed by a snorted laugh.
With an unhurried movement, I turned to him. “No, you don’t. You want to be an asshole? Fine. Find some other person that’ll cower to your behavior, because I won’t. I don’t give a crap about you, your friend, or the fact that when you enter the room, people stop talking.” Yeah, I’d noticed that, especially when he talked to me. Like they were waiting for something to happen. “It doesn’t faze me that you come in here covered in bruises like you’ve been spending your days getting the shit kicked out of you.” I let my lips spread into a wide smile with a touch of menace for effect. “I bet you probably deserved it.” Quinn’s amused expression fell, the laughter in eyes replaced by stone-cold death, and his jaw hard and tight. I leaned toward him this time. “Sorry. Did I hit a nerve?” I sat straight in my chair and waited for a reply that never came. All I heard was one voice whispered from somewhere else in the room, and it wasn’t from either of us.
“Shit.”
That was it. Not another word, glance, or even breath—however sweet and minty fresh—was aimed in my direction. It was both wonderful and alarming at the same time. In the few weeks that I’d been at the community college, I’d never seen Quinn look at anybody with such animosity as he did me. It was either a good thing because he would leave me alone, or it was so bad that I now had to watch my back. I just didn’t have any clue which one it was.
Great. Just fucking great. The first college took almost three years to make enemies like that. The second college took three weeks. Awesome.
***
‘Please come, Kinsley! It’ll be great, I promise!’
Miley had been bugging me non-stop to go to the beach with her. That day at lunch, we’d sat at a round metal table, complete with attached benches, where I’d said my quick hello’s to a few girls she talked animatedly to. The three carbon copies were called Jojo, Phoebe, and Rachel. They seemed to be okay, I guess, but after listening to them for a while, they began to sound a lot like the Zeta Kappas at Crosshall.