“What? I have no idea where this is going, Professor Stanwick.”
“During class, I received a text from another student alerting me to Sonny’s second dare of the day. The first young lady to get a tattoo reading The Stealer gets a pair of tickets to the Phish concert.”
“Phish?”
“This isn’t about Phish, Caterina. It’s about you disgracing the entire female gender with your sorority-girl antics, your ball-baby tendencies.”
Surprised, I gasped.
“What?” she snapped out, pulling herself up a little taller. “You think I don’t know the lingo, that I live in a bubble? Why do you think I teach in this department and have spent my life making it a nurturing and fair place for women? I don’t think I can permit this type of behavior from someone in my class.”
“But I didn’t do anything, Professor Stanwick,” I said, desperate to plead my case. “You can’t blame me for Sonny’s actions.”
I wanted to stomp my foot and swear up a holy mess, but I knew better than to show my hot-headed temper at this moment.
Stanwick narrowed her gaze on me. “You are consorting with the enemy. Don’t think I don’t know it. You are dismissed to go change your paper’s thesis and clean up your associations. Otherwise, you will force me to take necessary action.”
I walked out without another word, dragging myself and my foul mood out of the building. I forgot the barrage of bachelors waiting for me, and as soon as I exited the door, I was bombarded with shouted invites.
Tucking my chin to my chest, I whispered, “Excuse me,” and tried to escape.
“Catie, come on! One night, one concert!”
“Look at me, Catie!”
Fucking Sonny. He’d incited a riot, and was probably sitting in his booth watching through some sick fuck’s Facetime feed, plotting like President Snow in The Hunger Games.
“Get the hell out of my way,” I said a bit louder, and took off toward Southern A.
I walked quickly, practically running until I stormed through the door to my dorm. When someone called my name from the couches in the common area just inside the door, I paused to see Tess coming toward me.
Ugh. “Hey, Tess, what’s up?”
“Someone’s waiting for you in my room!”
“Oh God, Tess,” I whined. “You didn’t let one of those freaks inside, did you? Tell me you’re not so desperate.”
“You mean the nuts trying to win the Phish tickets?” Shelby strode over to stand next to Tess. She had a smile so broad, I thought her face was going to crack.
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess this thing’s got a bit crazy. Sonny from the station did some stupid dare. You didn’t let those people in?”
The last part came out low and angry, a deep bellow from somewhere in my chest. It was part Italian stallion, another part Castro. I was livid, not to mention I was about to be thrown out of my major because of Sonny.
“No, not those freaks,” Tess said, beaming. “A good kind of freak. A really tall freak.” She started to bounce up and down like she had to pee, becoming more and more excited as she spoke.
“Are you okay?” I reached out to steady her from what looked like a mild seizure.
“A tall freak, Catie! Did you hear me?”
“Fuck.” I grabbed my forehead. “The tall part escaped me the first time.”
“Come on.” Shelby grabbed my shoulder and spun me toward the stairs.
I barely knew her; she lived next to Tess and would sometimes eat with us. Now her long red hair blew back into my face as she dragged me to meet a tall freak.
Why couldn’t I go back to being a lonely short freak?
Tess unlocked her door, and Shelby gave me a quick shove inside the poster-decorated dorm room.
Who is that? I thought, overwhelmed by the oversized male faces staring at me from her walls. Edward? Or Jacob?
“Cate?”
I shook my head free of my inner musings about Twilight and focused on the tall man in front of me.
Tight black skinny sweats hugged Blane’s legs, and a dark green T-shirt clung to his chest. His hair was wild, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He held a hand over his chest and worried his lower lip while he waited for me to look up into his eyes. When I did, I found worry and confusion.
“So you heard?”
He nodded. “Stupid Sonny.”
Tilting my head at him, I narrowed my eyes. “You wound him up him even more when you tried to get out of your bet. Because of me.”
He stepped closer, still rubbing his chest, and laughed. “I got him this time, though.”
“What now? You can’t fix this for me, tough guy.” When I jabbed him in the chest, he yelped. “Oh, don’t be such a baby!”
“I’m not. I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but we have to get into town real quick.”
“Why? I can’t go out there. These asses are following me around, asking me on a date so they can see Phish! Phish!”