I feel bad now that she was the one I yelled at.

Of everyone at St. John’s, she deserves my wrath the least.

Chapter Four

Lainey

I want this day to end. Having to endure my grandmother being here on campus was like having to entertain the Queen of England all afternoon. She came early and stayed late, peppered me with a thousand questions. Who are my friends, and which classes do I prefer, and don’t drink tea in great gulps, and for god’s sake, stop slouching.

When her Rolls-Royce pulled off down the Cyprus-lined drive, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with a good book and a mug of hot chocolate, but when I returned to my dorm, I found a sign pasted to the door.

GO AWAY.

Blythe does this every now and then, essentially kicking me out of my own dorm. Usually it’s only for a few hours, though once it was for an entire weekend. I slept underneath a table in the library and had a backache for a whole week after.

When I saw her note earlier, I stood outside my door for a minute, letting the inconvenience of it all sink in. I needed inside my dorm. At the very least, I wanted to change out of my ridiculous dress. My grandmother sent it to me last week with clear instructions to wear it for the luncheon today. I felt like a five-year-old on her birthday, so pink and frilly. Worse, the fabric was itchy as hell.

I sighed and let my forehead hit the door.

“READ THE SIGN!” Blythe yelled.

I pinched my eyes closed and tried to keep myself from screaming back at her. There’s no use. I’ve gone down that route. I’ve told a teacher, told an administrator, told the headmaster. It always winds up making my life worse in the end. Why can’t adults understand that? I don’t want them to bring Blythe into their office for a stern talking to—I want them to kick her out of St. John’s altogether.

It wouldn’t matter though. A new, worse version of her would crop up in her place. Oh god, the horror of that almost makes me shiver out of my skin. If I were Catholic, I’d do the sign of the cross at the thought.

As I walked away from my dorm, I did so while wishing she’d contract some incurable, horribly disfiguring STD. Is that too much to ask of karma?

With nowhere left to go, I headed to the library because I didn’t feel like getting my head chewed off if I interrupted Blythe and her partner again. Silly me, I ended up getting my head chewed off anyway.

I didn’t even notice Emmett was in there when I first arrived. I was going back to the spot where I like to study, where the books are so dusty and forgotten that I’m more likely to run into the Ghost of Authors Past than another living person.