Days slipped away, and Claire just let them go. She was worried about class, but she was tired and her bruises had turned Technicolor, and the last thing she wanted to do was be the center of attention. It was better—Shane had convinced her—to do some home study and get back to class when she was better, and Monica had had some time to let things blow over.

The week slipped away. She fell into a regular routine—up late with Michael and Shane and Eve, sleep until noon, argue over bathroom rights, cook, clean, study, do it all again. It felt…good. Real, somehow, in a way that dorm life didn’t, exactly.

The following Monday, when she got up and made breakfast, she had to make it for two: Shane was awake, looking grumpy and groggy. He silently grabbed the bacon and fried some up while she did the eggs; there wasn’t any banter, as there had been between him and Eve a couple of mornings back. She tried a little conversation, but he wasn’t in the mood. He just grunted replies. She waited until he was done with his breakfast—which included a cup of coffee, brewed in the tiny little coffeemaker on the corner of the counter—before she asked, “What are you doing up so early?”

Shane leaned his chair back on two legs, balancing as he chewed. “Ask Michael.”

Can’t exactly do that… “You doing something for him?”

“Yeah.” He thumped his chair back down and brushed his hand over his hair, which still looked like a mess. “Don’t expect me to dress up or anything.”

“What?”

“What you see is what you get.” She just looked at him, frowning, trying to figure out what he was saying. “I’m taking you to class. You were going back today, right?”

“You’re kidding,” she said flatly. He shrugged. “You’re kidding. I’m not some six-year-old who needs her big brother to walk her to school! No way, Shane!”

“Michael thinks you should have an escort. Brandon was pretty pissed. He could find a way to take it out on you, even if he can’t do it himself. He’s got plenty of people who’d kick your ass on his say-so.” Shane’s eyes slid away from hers. “Like Monica.”

Oh, crap. “Monica belongs to Brandon?”

“The whole Morrell family does, far as I know. He’s their own personal badass. So.” He rubbed his hands together. “What exciting classes do we have today?”

“You can’t go to class with me!”

“Hey, you’re welcome to knock me out and stop me, but until you do, I’m your date for the day. So. What classes?”

“Calculus II, Physics of Sound, Chemistry III, chem lab, and Biochemistry.”

“Holy crap. You really are smart. Right, I’ll take some comics or something. Maybe my iPod.”