Page 27 of XXXVII: The Elite

“I am so sorry,” I say before finally looking at the person I’ve walked into… or at least, his chest. The crisp, pale blue shirt he’s wearing is now covered in something that’s either coffee or tea. “Areyouokay?”

I’ve got no tissues on me, but my instinct is to try to rectify the mess I’ve made, so I pull the bottom of my oversized T-shirt over my hand and go to dab the stain.

“Stop.”

His tone is harsh and has me recoiling my hand back.

“I am so sorry,” I say again, finally looking at the face of the man in front of me.

Dark eyes glare at me. “You said that already. Maybe you should spend more time paying attention to where you’re going and then you can spend less time apologizing.”

This guy is a few years older than me—probably closer to thirty than twenty. And he’s the epitome of being tall, dark, and handsome. His dark hair is cropped so close to his head that the clippers had to be on the shortest setting, and his skin tone is a few shades lighter than his hair. His full lips are pressed firmly into a frown as he stares me down.

A lot of effort is required on my part to bite back a comment about his attitude, because at the end of the day, I’m the reason his drink is over his chest instead of in the cup that’s now lying on the ground beside him.

Instead, I pull my phone out of my pocket and quickly unlock it. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay for your dry cleaning, or a new shirt.”

Rolling his eyes, the guy takes my phone. He enters his details, but instead of handing the phone back, I catch him exiting the app. The next moment, his phone is ringing. “Just in case.”

I snatch the phone back from him, cancelling the call. “I will pay, you know.”

The guy shrugs. “How do I know that?”

“I apologized, and I’m going to pay for the damage. What more do you want from me?” I ask as I again, remind myself, I was the one in the wrong.

“I’ll send you the bill.” And then he walks off, brushing his chest with his arm as though that’s going to do something.

“Dick,” I mutter under my breath.

How much is dry cleaning these days? Is that even still a thing? It’s more likely that I’m getting a bill for a new shirt, which I will pay for, even if right now, I want to do so with actual pennies instead of transferring the money. The fact that I’ll have to see him again is the only thing removing that idea from my mind. Instead, I hurry back to campus, hoping as I go that it wasn’t a designer shirt because that’s going to eat into my budget.

Thankfully, I have to change into my uniform for class, so my own stained top becomes a problem for laundry day.

The rest of the day goes much better. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are my busiest days. Tuesday and Thursdays are slightly better, but even so, it’s clear from the three classes I attended this afternoon that I’m going to have to dedicate more time than I expected to studying.

The scholarship requires me to obtain and maintain a minimum of a 3.9 GPA, and if I want to find out what happened to my brother, I’m going to have to put in the hours to study.

Maybe Ishouldconsider choosing a major.

My stomach is grumbling from missing lunch, and all I can think of is food. I’m on my way to the dining hall when I hear my name being yelled across the courtyard.

“Tori. Tori!”

Turning, I find Penny jogging towards me, her hair streaming out behind her. She comes to a stop with a small jump right in front of me. Almost at once, her phone is thrust in front of me.

“We never exchanged numbers. I was going to ask this morning at breakfast, but you just upped and left.”

That’s because seeing Synclair Keyingham threw me off. Instead of telling her that, I just take the phone and tap in my number.

“Sorry, I needed to get into town this morning.”

Taking her phone back, Penny wrinkles her nose. “I drove through Keyingham when I came here. Why would you want to go there?”

Before I can answer, my stomach growls loudly.

Penny’s eyes go wide as she smiles. “My next question was going to be if you’d eaten yet. Come on.” With her other arm, she links hers through mine and starts leading me to the dining hall. At the same time, my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. “That’s just me,” she says as she taps her phone and then slips it back into her pocket. “Now you have my number too.”

I’m not sure why Penny is in such a cheerful mood, but it’s infectious. Although my stomach is rumbling all the way to the dining hall, even as we’re picking our food out, I can’t help but let everything drift away until all I’m left with is feeling like a normal college girl.

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