Page 44 of Serpentine Valentine
I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my tight black jeans and pushed out of the accessible washroom into the bright, noisy bar. The Penny Farthing was the most popular bar on campus, which meant that normally I’d stay the hell away from it.
Even before, I hadn’t been a party girl, even a particularly social girl.
Now, large crowds gave me hives.
But it was important that everyone saw me here.
After all, I needed an alibi.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I slid into the booth across from Bryn. “I always need to wash my hands before eating.”
Bullshit, but the pretty girl across from me bought it with a warm smile.
“No worries,” she said. “Like I said, I’m just happy you asked me out.”
Of course, she was. Bryn Harper was in my Ancient Philosophers class, and she’d been flirting with me for weeks. She was cute, too, in a kind of boyish way with cropped hair and a propensity to wear clothes from the men’s side of the store. She pulled it off with confidence that came from being out for a long time.
I didn’t really have a type, and normally, she would have intrigued me. I liked her self-possessed nature and the way she took my hand the moment I sat down, touching me in public without shame. It was a good example to set, one I was happy to follow.
But I wasn’t interested in the slightest.
How could I be when a pretty, fae-looking strawberry-blond wouldn’t leave my thoughts?
She had even made an appearance like a lightning flash against the darkness of my nightmares. I never remembered what the brief dreams were about, but I woke up with her face lingering in my mind’s eye.
It was rude of me to use Bryn’s interest as an alibi, but my agenda was more important than her hurt feelings. And anyway, I did want to be her friend. As Juno liked to remind me, it was healthy and healing to have friends in the LGBTQIA+ world who could make me feel safe and seen.
“I have to be honest,” Bryn continued, eyeing me warily. “I hadanother reason for coming tonight.”
Unease slithered under my skin. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” She laughed awkwardly and rubbed a hand over her chin as her eyes darted over my shoulder. “I’m not sure if you know this, but my mom is Quinn Harper.”
Of course, I knew who Quinn Harper was. An editor atThe New York Timesand author of three books about modern-day feminism and sexuality. Bryn was something of a celebrity in the queer community at Acheron as a result.
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Well…” Bryn collected the perspiration on her beer glass with the tips of her fingers to avoid looking at me. “She wanted me to ask you about doing an interview with her for an exposé she wants to write.”
Deep beneath the numb layers of my body and spirit, something like hope stirred.
“And why would she want to interview a nobody scholarship student at Acheron?” I asked mildly even though, of course, I knew.
She wanted me to talk about Halloween.
Bryn finally looked up at me. “About what happened to you last Halloween. About how unfairly President Pallas and the university treated you. I know the consensus around campus seems to be…biased against you, but there are people who believe your story.”
“It’s not a story,” I corrected before I could remind myself to act unaffected. “It always bothers me when people say that. There are many sides of a story. What happened that night isn’t a matter of perspective. It’s my truth.”
“Okay,” she agreed easily, lifting her hands palm up in surrender. “I apologize. I only meant to say that Acheron seems to have a tendency to hush up these things without correcting any of the wrongs. My mom wants to shine some much-needed light on what’s going on here.”
“Why now?” It was a valid question. It had been nearly a year exactly since Professor Morgan had attacked me.
Still, it was another question I knew the answer to.
Bryn leaned closer, eyes sweeping our surroundings to make sure no one was listening. “Have you heard about the Man Eaters?”
I raised a brow but didn’t confirm or deny it.
