2 Whispering (4 page)

Brittany kept Zach busy for about a half an hour before he made up an excuse and left the University Center. Alone. Brittany looked a little sad about the turn of events, but she put on a brave face in the hopes that we wouldn’t see it. I decided to pretend I didn’t notice. I owed her at least that.

When we got back to the dorms, Brittany seemed to have shrugged off her Zach disappointment and was happily ensconced in the bedroom organizing her books in the order she would need them. Yeah, I’m not making it up.

Paris and I lounged around on the small couch while Brittany giddily started highlighting on her bed. I couldn’t figure out what she was highlighting. It was Sunday. Classes didn’t start until the next day. I had no idea what she was reading.

After flipping through the channels for a few minutes, Paris settled on a
The Walking Dead
marathon. We had both fallen in love with the show the previous semester. After a few minutes – and about twenty body splatters – Paris switched the television off.

“Huh,” she mused.

“Yeah, it’s not as cool after that whole almost mass murder thing.”

“Yup,” Paris sighed.

I got up from the couch and headed towards the door. Paris watched me curiously. “Where are you going?”

“Down to the third floor,” I said, flashing a worried glance in Brittany’s direction. I didn’t want to mention Zach’s name in case she had some sort of freak out. “I want to apologize for the whole Aric thing.”

Paris followed me out into the hall, closing the door behind us so Brittany couldn’t hear our conversation. “I don’t want to cause a thing,” she started.

“But you’re going to,” I supplied.

“Do you even like Zach?”

“What?”

“Do you even like him?”

“I have no idea,” I said truthfully. “I just met him.”

“Well, Brittany has convinced herself that she likes him,” Paris pointed out.

“Yeah, but Brittany convinces herself she likes everyone,” I reminded her. “She’ll move on to someone new the next time someone pays her any attention.”

“Yes,” Paris said pragmatically. “But until that happens, she’s going to be fixated on Zach.”

“Thanks to Aric,” I grumbled.

“Yes. Aric. That really tall, really hot, really brave guy that saved our lives,” Paris reminded me.

I didn’t tell Paris that he had kind of saved my life again over the Christmas break. I figured that would just give her more fuel for an argument I really didn’t want to have. “I’m not dating Aric.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Paris said.

“What?”

“Oh, come on,” she waved off my protests. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. It’s going to happen.”

“Good grief,” I muttered. “It is not going to happen.” Even I’m not sure I believed that statement – and I was the one saying it.

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Paris said sarcastically. “We both know it’s going to happen the minute you pull your head out of your ass.”

“That’s nice,” I said irritably.

“It’s the truth.”

“Why are we talking about this again?” When in doubt, change the subject.

“Because you’re about to go visit Zach,” Paris reminded me. “This could be bad because it will upset Brittany and I think you’re just doing it as a way to make Aric jealous.”

“That’s just . . . that is beyond untrue,” I protested.

Paris sighed. “Do what you want. Just know this is probably going to come back and bite you.”

I shrugged. “It won’t be the first time.” I started moving towards the stairwell to head down to the third floor. “And at least Zach has teeth and not fangs.”

“Well, there is that,” Paris agreed reluctantly.

It only took me about two minutes to make it down to the third floor. Once I got there, I realized that I had no idea which room was Zach’s. I asked two girls who were sitting outside of their room at the end of the hall, and they directed me down to 308. I could hear them whispering about me as I walked away. I had a feeling Zach was fairly popular on the floor. Great.

When I got to 308, I was relieved to see the door propped open. I saw a figure sitting on the couch reading a magazine. I cleared my throat, expecting Zach to be behind the glossy pages. It wasn’t, though.

“Zoe!”

“Mark,” I choked out. Mark Doyle. Paris’ crush, Brittany’s “friend” and one of the campus monster hunters. Oh, did I forget to mention them? Yeah, Covenant College has an underground group of monster hunters that are actively working against the supernatural population that also litters the campus. They had tried to recruit me most of the previous semester – but I had ultimately declined. There was something off about the group.

As for Mark? I didn’t think he was a bad guy – but I also wanted to sever all ties with the group he seemed so gung-ho to fight for. I had been avoiding him since my last blowup with the head of the group, Sam Blake.

“I’m surprised to see you,” Mark admitted. “I’m glad you came to visit, though. We have some things to talk about.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I warned Mark.

“I think we should.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said. “I’m not joining. You’re part of the group. It is what it is.”

“Then why did you come here?” Mark looked puzzled as he tucked his shoulder-length brown hair behind his ear. Mark was handsome in an unobvious way. It was more like he was cute – with a really fun personality. He had a certain goofy charm. That wasn’t on display right now, though.

“I . . .”

“Zoe, what are you doing down here? I thought you’d be with your boyfriend.”

I swung around and saw Zach entering the dorm room through the door that was still open behind me. He breezed past me and threw himself on the couch next to Mark.

“You guys are roommates?’

“Yeah,” Zach shrugged in confusion.

“How do you two know each other?” Mark asked suspiciously.

“We met at a party last night,” I explained.

“I helped her get her drunk roommate home,” Zach supplied.

“Brittany?” Mark cringed.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“She never could hold her liquor.”

“Still can’t,” I agreed.

“Then we ran into each other at the University Center today,” Zach said. “We were having a nice conversation and then some huge guy came in and basically claimed her as his own.”

I narrowed my eyes in Zach’s direction. That was a weird way to put things. Apt, but weird.

“I actually came to apologize to you for Aric’s behavior,” I offered lamely.

“It’s not my problem,” Zach said stiffly. “It’s not my business either.”

“Aric had no right to do . . . what he did.”

“What did he do?” Mark looked curious. I had no idea if he knew who Aric was, though.

“He was just a pain,” I said.

“He volunteered me to be Brittany’s new study buddy,” Zach said angrily.

Mark stifled a laugh. “Uh-oh. Let me guess, now she’s in love with Zach?”

“Pretty much,” I agreed.

Mark turned to Zach. “Don’t worry about it, man. She always does this and then she moves on to someone else within a few weeks. Just avoid her. She’ll forget about you.”

“A few weeks?” Zach’s voice was unnaturally squeaky.

“If you’re lucky, she’ll find someone else to fixate on by the end of the week.” I think Mark was trying to help.

“Well, that sounds great,” Zach said sarcastically.

Mark and I laughed. The tension that had been filling the room only minutes before seemed to have suddenly evaporated. Mark and Zach shifted on the couch to make room for me to sit. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games and chatting away amiably.

When dinnertime approached, I left Mark and Zach and returned to my room. When I entered, I found Brittany pouting in the living room. Crap.

“What’s going on?”

“You just couldn’t let me have him, could you?” Brittany bit out.

I shifted my gaze to Paris, who was steadfastly studying her manicure. “What did you tell her?” I challenged Paris.

“I might have let it slip that you went down to see Zach.”

Ugh.

“You’re trying to steal him from me,” Brittany’s lower lip started quivering.

“I am not trying to steal him from you,” I said. “I was actually visiting Mark.” That’s not an overt lie.

Paris narrowed her eyes in my direction. “Mark?”

“Yeah. Zach and Mark are roommates. What a coincidence, huh?”

Paris looked suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s a small world.”

“Too small,” I agreed.

“So you’re not interested in Zach?” Brittany asked hopefully.

“I’m not interested in any men right now,” I grumbled.

Brittany was suddenly happy. “That’s probably a good idea for you,” she said. “You have terrible taste in men.”

I glanced at Paris, who was fighting to keep from laughing out loud. Paris met my gaze and shrugged. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

No, she wasn’t.

The next morning came far too quickly. While I was happy to be back on campus and away from the weird vibes of my hometown I was not exactly thrilled to be starting classes again. What? I’m not known for my scholarly aptitude.

My day started with a basic math class. I only had to take one over my entire tenure at Covenant College, but math had never been one of my strengths. Quite frankly, I just wanted to get it out of the way. After that I had a literature class and I finished the day with a current events journalism class – so it wasn’t exactly going to be a taxing afternoon. Still, for some reason, I was a little on edge.

Paris and I walked to classes together. We had purposely organized our schedules so that we didn’t have any class starting before 11 a.m. For her part, ever the overachiever, Brittany had scheduled her classes for 8 a.m. Yeah, I didn’t get it either.

While the remainder of the previous evening hadn’t been entirely comfortable, Brittany seemed to have believed my statements about wanting to remain man free – for the time being, at least – and was amicably chatty for the rest of the night. By the time I went to bed I was imaging various scenarios to stifle her Zach enthusiasm – including shaving her head in the dead of the night. She was seriously irritating me.

“What are you thinking about?”

I looked up at Paris in surprise. I hadn’t realized I had let my mind drift so far. We were only a few minutes from the building we were aiming for.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Aric?”

“No,” I scoffed.

“Zach?” Paris quirked her eyebrow suggestively.

“No.” What? I wasn’t. I was thinking about Brittany and her crush on Zach. See? I wasn’t lying.

“Then what were you thinking about?” Paris prodded.

“I was thinking that it’s weird to be on campus knowing the things that we know now,” I changed the subject.

Paris considered my statement for a second, her pale eyes darkening as she did. “The campus seems different now, doesn’t it?”

“When I came here I was just excited to get away from the people I knew in high school,” I admitted. “Now . . . now I don’t know. There are worse things.”

“There are always worse things,” Paris said pragmatically. “I think that college is about finding yourself. You’re definitely doing that.”

“What if I don’t like what I find?”

“What if you do?” Paris challenged.

I blew out a frustrated sigh. “This is all just so screwed up.”

“What’s screwed up?” Paris asked. “The fact that monsters or real or the fact that you are fighting your feelings for a werewolf?”

I glared in her direction. She’s such a know-it-all sometimes. “Maybe both,” I admitted wryly.

“I don’t see why you just don’t go for it with Aric,” Paris continued. “He’s really good looking, and he’s the kind of guy someone like you is going to need on your side.”

“Someone like me?”

Paris laughed at my confusion. “Zoe, you’re a magnet for trouble. You should just admit that. I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

“That’s what you think,” I challenged her. “This semester I’m going to focus on my studies, stay away from men and just have a regular college experience.”

Paris snorted out derisively. “Sure you are.”

Yeah, I didn’t really believe it either. That’s what I wanted – I was almost seventy five percent sure – but I had a feeling outside forces were conspiring to make sure that wasn’t even realistically possible.

Paris and I separated once we got into the building. Her class was on the second floor and mine was on the first. We made plans to walk back together after our final class and said our goodbyes.

Math class was exactly what I expected it to be. Painful. The professor was relatively young and good-looking, which made for some nice eye candy, but I was pretty much lost from the get-go. I didn’t even understand why I had to take a math class. I didn’t have any plans on using it in the future. What? That’s what the calculator on my phone was for.

I had more fun in my English literature class. I had purposely picked the horror one – mostly because those were the books I most enjoyed – and I was pleasantly surprised by the reading list. There were classics like
Dracula
and Mary Shelley’s
Frankenstein
– but there were cult favorites like Stephen King’s
It
, as well. The professor was a bohemian type, with a floral ankle-length skirt and a sequined top – but she was also passionate about the source material. I instantly liked that about her.

My last class of the day was my journalism current events class. I had a certain amount of trepidation when I entered the classroom. I had purposely picked a class that Sam Blake wasn’t in charge of. I had no desire to see him anytime soon – and even the thought of his monster hunters gave me the willies.

“Zoe, over here.”

I heard the voice before I saw the face it belonged to and internally cringed. Matilda. She wasn’t really a bad person – and she wasn’t a monster, as far as I could tell – but she was one of those people that could drive you crazy in ten seconds flat.

I plastered a fake smile on my face and beamed it in Matilda’s direction. We had met the semester before in Professor Blake’s journalism class. She had curly brown hair, warm brown eyes and a freaky personality that seemed to focus a little too intently on some things.

What can I say? College brings all types together. For the most part, though, Matilda was harmless.

I slid into the open seat next to her and greeted her with faux delight. “How’s it going?”

“I was hoping we would be in this class together,” Matilda chattered. “I hadn’t seen you since I got back from Christmas break, though, so I wasn’t sure.”

“I didn’t get back until Saturday,” I said. “Then we went to a party that night and book shopping yesterday.”

“Well, at least we’re in a class together,” Matilda said.  “That will make it more fun.”

Fun? Akin to a root canal? Whatever. “Yeah,” I agreed, despite my inner turmoil. “So, you know anything about this Professor Livingston?”

Matilda shook her head. “No, not really. I just heard that his class is a lot of fun.”

“That will be a nice change,” I muttered.

“I know, right?” Matilda was off chattering away again. I interjected occasional answers when I thought the conversation warranted it, but otherwise I just sat back in my chair and relaxed. “So, have you seen Rick since you came back?”

And there it was. I had almost forgotten Matilda’s crush on Rick No. 1. He must have some appeal that I just didn’t see, because both Matilda and Brittany had developed a certain fixation on him.

“He went to the party with us Saturday night,” I offered.

“You should have invited me,” Matilda said. There was an edge to her voice.

“It happened pretty quickly,” I said. “We were all trying to avoid some ridiculous rap session with our new resident assistant.”

“Oh,” Matilda said. “Well, next time.”

“Next time,” I agreed. Somehow, though, I figured I would magically forget to invite her then, too.

Thankfully our conversation didn’t have a chance to continue from there because Professor Livingston had arrived – and he was just as entertaining as Matilda promised. Professor Livingston was focused on current events – the situation in the Middle East, the gridlock in Congress, the fact that Miley Cyrus managed to derail both by gyrating on Robin Thicke at an awards ceremony.

The entire class was basically just a discussion on the state of the media in the world today and I couldn’t help but be entertained by Professor Livingston’s take on things. What I was most relieved about, though, was the fact that Professor Livingston didn’t bring up werewolves or vampires even once.

The hour flew by and I was surprised when Professor Livingston dismissed us for the day. I was even thrilled by the fact that our only homework assignment for the week was to watch one hour of any news broadcast we wanted each night and write down our thoughts about what we saw. A class that assigned television as homework? Where could I find four others?

“I told you he was fun,” Matilda said as we were walking out of the class.

“You were right.”

“Where’s your next class?” She asked.

“I’m done for the day,” I said happily – and I found I was genuinely thrilled with that prospect.

“Lucky you,” Matilda said. “I still have one more class.”

Matilda waved as she said goodbye, making me promise I would invite her next time I went out with Rick No. 1. I turned to start down the hall, I had promised to meet Paris at the front door of the building, when I slammed into a figure that had been standing directly behind me while I was talking to Matilda. So much for those spatial instincts I prided myself on.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I didn’t see you there.”

The figure straightened and I sucked in a breath when I saw Professor Blake standing there. Great. Just what I needed.

“It was an accident,” Professor Blake said in a placating manner.

“If I knew it was you, I would have wished for a truck,” I said bitterly.

“I can see you’re still worked up,” Professor Blake said arrogantly, running his fingers through his dark blond hair.

“I’m not worked up,” I lied. “I just have nothing to say to you.”

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” Professor Blake hedged. “Starting with whatever happened at that party on Halloween.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied.

Professor Blake grabbed my elbow and tried to direct me towards the stairwell that led to his office. I pulled back quickly. “That’s not going to happen,” I warned him.

“I told you, we need to talk.” Professor Blake’s tone was grave.

“And I told you, I have nothing to say to you. I don’t know how to make that anymore succinct,” I hissed.

I saw a few student glances land on us and I couldn’t help but smirk. They probably thought we were having some sort of lover’s quarrel. That couldn’t be good for Professor Blake’s under-the-radar image. For his part, Professor Blake seemed to realize we were drawing attention and he took a step away from me. “Why don’t you come up to my office so we can talk?” His new tone seemed friendly, but I could tell he was hiding a whole lot of anger and frustration underneath it.

“I’d rather drink battery acid,” I shot back. “It would leave a cleaner taste in my mouth.” I was suddenly emboldened by a sense of power that I couldn’t quite describe. I had to remind myself that Professor Blake seemed to need me a lot more than I needed him.

“There are things going on, things happening, that you need to be made aware of,” Professor Blake interjected in a low voice.

“Like what?”

“Not here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said stiffly. “Find yourself another warrior, because I’m not going to be it.”

I turned away from Professor Blake and flounced down the hallway with as much dignity as I could muster. It wasn’t much, though, since my hands were shaking uncontrollably. How could such a happy day turn into total crap so quickly?