During the two years I spent at Harvard before I transferred to Kingsacre, I almost killed myself with a heavy class load, knowing that once I got here with her, I wouldn’t want to be too busy with schoolwork to focus on her. If I wanted to, I have enough credits to graduate this year, but instead I’m just taking a couple of courses and the rest of my time is all about her.

All the air seems to evaporate from the room the moment she steps into the kitchen, freezing midstep when she sees me sitting at the table. Of course I’m only here because I’m waiting for her, but I don’t say that. Instead I let sadness fill my eyes and allow my shoulders to curl forward. I’m the image of a kicked puppy. Sad, alone and rejected.

After a second, she starts to move again, dashing to the refrigerator and opening the door to peek inside. We all have a meal plan to eat three meals a day in the cafeteria, but Hunter and Clay love to cook, so we keep a fully stocked pantry of fresh ingredients. I also make sure there’s a constant supply of the snacks my little bird likes to eat.

No matter how many times the guys offer, she always refuses to eat with us, but she’s not above taking snacks to eat in her room. Reaching in, she pulls out an apple and the jar of peanut butter. It goes rock hard and almost impossible to spread if you keep it in the refrigerator, but she likes it like that so that’s where we leave it.

Getting up, I cross to the drinks cooler and pull out a bottle of beer. “Beer?” I ask her, deliberately not making eye contact.

She jolts like I’ve hit her, but I try not to react, taking out a second bottle and offering it to her as I walk back to the table, fighting the urge to brush up against her. She takes the bottle from me then stares down at it, like she’s not sure how it got into her hand.

“How are you finding your classes so far?” I ask, twisting the top off the beer and bringing it to my lips. The liquid is cold and I take a long pull before lowering it down to the table.

“I never took you for a beer drinker.”

I stifle a smile, forcing my eyes to stay downcast and pathetic. “No? What kind of drinker did you take me for?”

Her eyes widen, like she’s shocked herself by speaking to me. The truth is, no matter how much she thinks she hates me and my obsession with her, it’s become omnipresent in her life. I was the big bad wolf, hiding in the shadows, a constant in her world and without me, she’s adrift, lost.

I want to say her name, to force her to speak, to answer me, but I can’t, so instead I wait, pretending that it doesn’t kill me to not be able to control her.