Stepping onto the porch, I kicked a pair of mud-caked cleats out of the way and knocked. Several moments passed before I heard footsteps. When the door opened, a girl who hadn’t been at the Underground with Ellianna on Friday stood there with a glower.
“Yeah, what do you want?”
“Is Ellianna here?” I asked, glancing over her shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse.
“Nope.” The way she popped the “p” annoyed me. “She’s at work.”
“She doesn’t have an evening class today.” I’d gotten both her class and work schedule emailed to me directly from the university’s chancellor Friday morning. I’d memorized it by lunchtime the same day.
“She does tutoring for a few other subjects besides English to earn extra cash.” She tilted her head pointedly, looking at my car parked in its usual spot on the street. “Are you going to be out there all night again?”
“Probably. Is she at the campus library?”
“We took a vote. We don’t like you.”
“So, that’s a yes on the library,” I concluded. “What’s your name?”
“Stacie. Hudson, Celica, and Vaya were with El at the Underground the other night. Kyndle, you’ve met.”
“Ellianna.”
Stacie rolled her eyes when I corrected her. “If she likes us to call her El, we’ll call her El. You don’t get a say in her name. And I don’t know what kind of drama you two have going on, but seeing you parked outside upsets her. Gives her heartburn. When she noticed your car out there this morning, she threw up in the kitchen sink. Hudson and Vaya had to keep Kyndle from going out to kill you.”
“Elli doesn’t get heartburn,” I muttered to myself, concern causing my stomach to tense. “Has she been sick often?”
“Enough to make us gang up on her and pressure her to see a doctor,” she admitted after a brief hesitation. “Kyndle said they gave her a prescription.”
“Fuck!” Turning, I jogged down the steps and over to my car. She was sick enough that she’d gone to the doctor, but she hadn’t told me. Did Mabel know? I doubted it. Ellianna wouldn’t want to worry her mom when Mabel was already working herself to death helping out with Miss Lindy, who was now confined to her bed and receiving hospice care.
It took only a few minutes to drive to campus. Unable to find an empty spot, I parked in a fire zone. Racing across the quad, I took the steps to the library three at a time and slammed through the front entrance.
Sweat beaded on my brow as I jogged through the stacks until I caught a glimpse of familiar golden hair. She was seated at a table for four, textbooks, notes, and her laptop open around her. One chair was pushed back from the desk, which meant someone had recently vacated it because Ellianna would have pushed in before she started studying.
Heads lifted as I marched past, but my gaze was focused solely on my Elli. Chin supported on one hand, she read over a paper in front of her, red pen between her fingers as she made corrections.
She didn’t bother to glance up when I stopped beside her table. “Go away. I’m busy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” I rasped, feeling out of breath.
Her fingers tightened around the pen, but her eyes remained on the paper. “A little heartburn and sour stomach doesn’t mean I’m sick. I’m just getting older and don’t tolerate junk food like I once did. A change of diet is all I need.”
“Stacie said the doctor gave you a prescription.” She made a quick note in the margin of the paper. As soon as the pen stopped moving, I snatched it from her, silently demanding her attention. Exhaling loudly, she lifted her head, causing her hair to fall over one shoulder. “For antacids?”
“Yup.”
A small flutter of her lashes told me she was lying, but I didn’t know why she wouldn’t tell me the truth. “How long were you not feeling well before you made a doctor’s appointment?”
“Stacie didn’t tell you?” she snarked.
“She said she and your other roommates were concerned for long enough that they convinced you to seek medical treatment,” I explained.
“Yes, it was a huge intervention. Ellianna’s tummy is acting ugly, let’s make her go to the doctor.” She rolled her eyes. “Someone suggested I speak to my doctor about the indigestion I’ve been experiencing. Which I did. I got some meds and changed my diet. Stacie is a drama student. She overembellishes everything, which is why I never take anything she says too seriously.”
“What meds were you prescribed?” I pushed.
She stole her pen back and flipped the English paper she was grading to the next page, already marking it up. “That’s my business and isn’t any of your concern.”
I pulled her chair back from the table and turned it to face me as I crouched down in front of her. Noticing the dark circles beneath her eyes, I caressed my thumb under one. “You haven’t been sleeping.”
She cocked her head to the side, examining my face for a moment. “I could say the same about you. Haven’t you been resting, or do you just stay up all night stalking my house?”
“I worry about your safety.” And it was as close to her as I could get at night. There was no way I could sleep in our bed alone when she was across town, tucked under the covers in a different house. “Mr. Watson said that your roommates throw wild parties.”
“I’d say they are fairly tame compared to the ones the Sons throw after a fight every Friday night.” She nudged my chest with her knees. “There’s this thing called personal space. I would like mine back, please.”
“Sorry, can’t do that. You will only run away from me again.” Grasping the back of the chair with both hands, I caged her in.
“Wow, three sorries from you. I see someone has been increasing their vocabulary.” She patted me on top of the head condescendingly. But she was touching me, so I was going to count that as a win. “Have you been reading The Road to Sorry like a big, smart boy, learning to take responsibility for your actions?”
I moaned when her fingertips grazed my forehead. “Please touch me again, baby. It feels so good.”
She stroked her fingers through my hair to the back of my head, and I dropped my cheek onto her lap. Closing my eyes, I soaked in the euphoria of having her touch me so lovingly. Dropping to my knees, I felt sleep trying to take hold of me.
“Seriously, Judge,” she gently scolded as she stroked my scalp. “When was the last time you slept?”
“I think I got an hour or two at some point Saturday afternoon. Not consecutively, though.”
“Why?” she whispered.
Reluctantly, I lifted my head, wanting her to see the truth. “Because I can’t sleep without you cuddled up beside me in our bed, sweetheart.”
Her lashes drifted down. “Judge—”
“Hey, Elli!” a voice I didn’t recognize greeted as a loud thud hit the table behind me. Jerking to my feet, I found a guy in a graphic T-shirt and faded jeans taking the seat that was still pushed back from the desk. “My class was released early, so I thought I would come straight to our session.”
There was no way he didn’t see me, but he was entirely focused on Ellianna.