Page 34 of Built to Fall
I pick up my pace, seeing if maybe he’ll give up and go his own way. Of course he doesn’t.
“Whatever,” I say, putting my headphones back in my ears. “You can follow me, but I still have fifteen minutes of my podcast, so I’m at least running that much longer.”
“What kind of podcast?”
“It’s Greek mythology.” I pretend to be annoyed, even though I love an excuse to talk about it. “The host has a PhD in classic studies, so it’s really interesting.”
The first time I ever read a Greek mythology book, I was in the fifth grade, and it had a cartoon cover with Zeus throwing lightning bolts and Aphrodite blowing kisses. Since then, I’ve wanted to know everything there is to know about all the different gods and goddesses.
I’m sure some would say it goes against my factual approach to life, but I’d argue there is always knowledge to be found in tragedies.
He looks more interested than I’d expect him to. “I’ll have to check it out.”
I’d be lying if that didn’t make me thetiniestbit excited. “I’ll send you—” My voice quickly falters.
Grant instantly understands why. “If you want my phone number, all you have to do is ask for it, Lina.”
“It sounds likeyouwantmyphone number.”
“Is it that obvious?” he counters, all grin.
I roll my eyes at his flirting, yet I can’t help the smile that grows on my face as I hit play on my podcast, continuing to run alongside Grant.
We round a corner. The stadium lights are behind us now. The quiet is settling back in. It’s too late for the world to be awake and too early to still call it night.
Right before we get back to our apartment complex, a sorority house’s front door opens, making both of us glancetoward whoever’s exiting. That’s when I notice it’s the Tri Delta house we’re standing in front of.
Another figure steps out—tall, blonde, still looking disgustingly perfect at 5 a.m. I immediately recognize her from the suite in the stadium. From the party last week.
Savannah Sinclair.
I’ve seen her in passing since that night. Usually with Grant and the rest of their friends. A lot of the time, she’s touching his arm like she knows she’s going to follow him straight to bed.
She’s not alone, though. Kenzie and Delaney are following her out the door. They’re all dressed in skirts and tiny tank tops. I assume they’re going out to the bars.
“Is that Grant?” I hear Delaney ask.
It causes Savannah to glance our way. “Yup, it sure is.”
“Grant! Hey!” Kenzie yells.
He stiffens beside me. It’s subtle, the way his shoulders rise slightly, the way his jaw tightens. But I notice. He doesn’t wave back, doesn’t even fake a smile, and I have a feeling it’s because he’s more embarrassed to be seen with me than he is running into his friends.
Instead, he mutters under his breath, “Fuck me,” like the universe handed him his own personal hell wrapped in lip gloss and early-morning bar-hoppers. “Kenzie, Del.” He nods in greeting.
It’s the first time I’ve seen the two of them up close, and even without walking next to Savannah, they’re eye-catching all on their own.
I notice Kenzie first. Her brown skin glows with warmth, her dark curls fall in soft waves like they know exactly where to rest, and the carefree smile on her face gives the impression that she’s easygoing.
More so than Delaney, who has her lips set in a straight line. With her high cheekbones and straight nose, her featuresare beautifully contrasted by the rounder edges of her face. She reminds me of Denise Richards, only if she had darker hair.
They both wave, letting Savannah take the floor.
From what I understand, Grant is friends with all of the girls and has possibly hooked up with each of them, but Savannah is the one who he seems closest to.
The one who lingers a little longer and leans a little closer. The one who probably knows how he takes his coffee and what cologne he wears.
That’s only a guess, though. I still have a feeling he’s fucked all three of them.
