Page 57 of Drown in You

While I was studying, concentrating was nearly impossible with my mind completely distracted by thoughts of Luke, by the memories of our trip on the bus. I still can’t believe what we did, and I shouldn’t be aching for more of it.

Now, after three hours in the library, I’m exhausted and beyond paranoid.

I should’ve at least asked Juliet or Violet to go with me. I’m like the lone survivor in a post-apocalyptic movie on this dark campus. A few lamps and security call boxes light my path, but the campus is deserted at this time of night.

Yet I’m certain someone is in the shadows, watching every hurried step I take.

I clutch my arms to my body, shivering in the arctic air despite the winter coat and hood over my head. Maybe I’m wearing enough layers that if I get punched or stabbed, the blows won’t do as much damage.

My phone rings and I jump. When I spot the photo of me with my mom, both of us smiling at my high school graduation, I heave a sigh of relief and answer. “Hey, Mom. I’m heading back to the dorm now.”

“Oh, good.” She’s out of breath. “I just got back from book club and now I’ve got grilled cheese on the stove.”

“Book club?”

She’s never mentioned book club a day in her life. Her only hobby outside of work and men is rewatching her favorite TV shows.

“Yeah! It’s great! The girls and I get along so well. And we’ve discovered some amazing new books this month.” She actually sounds really happy. Hopeful.

I wish she could’ve experienced this revelation while I was still home.

Guilt follows the intrusive thought. I should be happy for her, not making this about me. “That’s amazing. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“How was your day?”

“Fine.” I’m tempted to launch into a dull explanation of my classes and schoolwork and what Juliet and I grabbed from the dining hall for dinner, but I haven’t been able to get what Luke told me about my father out of my head.

Gambling addiction. If Mom didn’t tell me, she probably doesn’t want me to know. But I need confirmation if Luke is right about this.

Normally, I sweep any potential interpersonal conflict under the rug. But I can’t this time. “Did you and Dad divorce because he had a gambling addiction?”

“He told you?” Her voice goes up an octave.

The words hit me like a gut punch. Was she just going to let me believe I was to blame for their divorce for the rest of my life? Or maybe she hasn’t had any idea about the guilt I’ve been harboring.

“No, I...figured it out.” I can’t admit Luke found out by snooping. There’s a lot about Luke that I can’t admit to her. What he did to me in the stairwell, on the bus to the away game, in my hotel room the night we met—“So is it true? Did you ask for a divorce because of his gambling?”

She sighs. “Not exactly. A few years before our divorce, he became more distant. Secretive. When I finally found out what he was doing, I confronted him. I gave him a choice—he could keep gambling, or he could keep his family. He made his choice.”

Maybe this revelation should make me feel like shit, knowing my father picked slot machines over me. But instead, relief floods through me.

I didn’t drive my father away. He left of his own accord. Their divorce had nothing to do with me. I’m not to blame. I’m not the reason Mom has been nursing a broken heart for the past decade.

In the background of the call, an alarm blares. “Shit!” Mom hisses. “I forgot the grilled cheese. Hey, hon, I have to go. Text me when you get to your dorm. Love you!”

As soon as I hang up, I spot texts from the unknown number. Probably Marcus, but I still have no way of proving it.

Unknown

Found you.

The next message is a photo of me, walking alone on campus.

Heart in my throat, I whip around, nearly dropping my phone.

But there’s nothing. No one following me.

My heart pounds, and I’m tempted to sprint all the way back to Nohren Hall.

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