Page 14 of Brat Baby
If all I need to do is keep my distance for three weeks to have my kitten back in my hands, I can do that.
“Yay,” Darcy states before draining the last of his beer.
Once again, we all turn to Xavier, and I honestly don’t give a fuck what his answer is. While what Darcy, Darek, and I did falls somewhere in the gray area, at least we can plead ignorance. But him? He is fucked.
So, I am not at all surprised when he simply doesn’t respond.
Derek sighs. “Yay. Majority rules. No one is to approach Emmy.”
“Should we at least tell her what’s going on?” Darcy asks, furrows forming between his brows as he picks at the label on his beer. “She is going to think we abandoned her.”
I’m shaking my head as Derek answers. “No. The most likely outcome of our conversation with Thayne is that he declines it. Four professors with one student? As much as the man is involved in our community, he’ll have to put his position as dean above everything else, otherwise he will undermine his own power. There is no point in getting Emery’s hopes up that we can make this work. It’s best that she starts healing from this now, rather than after being stringed along for an additional three weeks.”
A silence falls over the room, but it doesn’t last long. As if he has suddenly remembered that he needs to be somewhere else, Xavier surges up and heads to the front door without a word. None of us stops him. It’s probably a good thing that he’s leaving, to be honest. I can’t stand to look at him right now, not when Emmy’s tear-streaked face is a freshly burned-in memory. I’m sure the others feel the same.
Upending my beer, I drain the last of it before turning to the bar and opening the mini fridge to get a second. As I straighten, Derek stops beside me and reaches for the decanter of amber liquid. A memory from today assaults me.
“Did you happen to notice Emmy’s laptop today?” I ask quietly, hoping beyond hope that she has one and that the battery was just dead by the time she got to my class.
“Don’t you mean, the lack of a laptop?” he volleys back as he pours two fingers of bourbon into his crystal tumbler.
My stomach aches. A piece-of-shit phone and no laptop. What freshman starts their first day of college with no laptop? Or even a tablet?
“We still owe her eleven rewards. That agreement was made in the weekend contract. She completed that contract, so it’s onlyright that we fulfill our side,” I reply, attempting to keep my voice even. Not to mention that all those rewards are from my scene.
We all just voted on no contact, but surely having a laptop delivered won’t breach that.
Derek remains quiet until he has replaced the decanter on the shelf. “That has already been taken care of.”
Then the fucker just walks away.
My annoyance melts away and is replaced by a giddy feeling. He isn’t the only one who can send her gifts. I’m going to make sure our girl knows that we haven’t abandoned her.
Even if I have to buy her every damn thing she has ever needed.
Chapter 8
Emery
A knock on my doorframe disturbs my almost robotic movements as I transfer the brand-new clothes from my bags to my closet, de-tagging everything as I go. I cuddled with Teddy and Rocky—the bear I’d bought on Friday—for close to an hour. The three of us snuggled beneath the blankets, where I squeezed Teddy’s chest, over and over, before I forced myself out of bed.
There is only one bag of clothes left to de-tag and hang, all the weekend’s things slowly finding places around my room, including a dry-cleaning pile in the corner. Having so many new things really highlights how old and shabby my comforter and pillows look. Not to mention all my thrift store clothing.
Part of me wants to toss out all the old clothes. But an even larger part is terrified that they will figure out where I live and come to take everything back, and then I’ll be stuck with nothing. So, for now, it all stays in the bottom drawer of the dresser. At least until I have washed everything—nothing will be returnable after that.
I don’t pause as I slip the cream lace dress onto a hanger, being extra careful to ensure that it hangs straight. With a voice that feels flatter than flat, I muster up a single word. “Hey.”
“You look like trash,” Oakley unceremoniously states as she drops onto my bed and picks up Rocky for a cuddle while dropping a small package onto the bed. “When was the last time you ate? Have you showered the day off yet? That would have been the first thing I did when I got back. Also, your donut pillow arrived.”
A laugh unexpectedly bubbles past my lips. “Thanks,” I reply as I turn to hang the dress. “And lunch at a dining hall. No to the shower.”
When I turn back around to reach for the next item lying flat on the bed next to her, she places a hand over mine. I tip my head to look at her and can barely stand the pity in her light blue eyes. Or the fact that she looks as put together as she did this morning. Unlike me, who feels like I went through a washing machine that wasn’t hooked up to water.
With a sigh, she pushes all the clothes toward the head of the bed, then pats the spot next to her. “Come on.”
I eye the spot warily. “You’re not going to hug me, are you? Swaddle me in love and all that shit? Because we did that already, in the grass, after they dumped me.”
Oakley raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. “Of course, I am. You can either fight it or give in. Either way, it’s happening. There is no limit to hugs. Besides, it’s a scientifically proven fact that hugs can help regulate the nervous system.”
