Page 81 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)
I can’t do this. The first person who tries to talk to me through a mask, I’ll be on the floor. I hate masks. It’s a deep-rooted terror that I can’t help.
I turn around and grab the door handle, but it just jiggles in place—locked. My throat constricts, and I try again.
There’s no way in hell I’m calling Liam to have him let me back in.
So, there’s only one thing to do: I square my shoulders and march down the street toward Moe’s like this isn’t bothering me. There won’t be that many people in there, I reason. Not so close to… well, I can’t even blame it on finals.
But I’d think Ashburn students would be more reserved in the wake of Natalie’s death.
“There you are.” Mitch waves as he jogs across the street. “I was waiting in front of your apartment.”
“You’d be waiting a long time,” I joke. “I moved out today.”
He blinks. “What?”
“Yeah, roommate’s parents took her home, and mine didn’t want me living alone. So they found me a new roommate.” I avoid saying Liam’s name, and I can tell the question is on the tip of Mitch’s tongue. His expression is open and curious.
I try to push away the last time I saw him.
It was a big misunderstanding, anyway. Lots of people keep handcuffs in their nightstands…
“This is just a friends thing,” I warn him. “I should’ve said it before accepting your invitation.”
He sighs. “I get your trepidation. While I don’t really get why you’d go snooping through my stuff… Girls are curious. And you freaked out, understandably.”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean by understandably?”
“Well, you know. With what happened.”
I pull him to a stop.
“Sorry, Mitch, you’re gonna have to be a tad more specific.”
He frowns. “Oh. You really don’t know what I’m talking about. I Googled your name, and some stuff came up from ten years ago. Old articles—”
“Stop,” I say, holding up my hands. “You Googled me?” I can’t imagine I was in the local newspapers much. I barely scraped by honors, and they only published the names of the high honor students for a few years. I never won any medals… I was interviewed for the school paper once, but they only used my first name. Spelled wrong.
Who spells Skylar as Schuylar, anyway?
“Most people take it as a compliment.” Mitch rolls his eyes. “That’s not the point. The point is—”
“Most people,” I interrupt. “Most people wouldn’t have had you know what happen to them.” If only I knew what that you know what was.
This was a mistake, obviously.
There are moments when people reveal who they are. It might not all come at once, but the new layers of Mitch are unappealing. On the surface, he’s the pretty rich boy with the charming smile. He was nice, even. Catching me snooping was the first sign of annoyance—it wasn’t enough to be considered anger—I’d seen cross his expression. He’d chased me out onto the street.
I’d blocked it out. Letting myself feel that terror in those moments… overload. I can only handle so much emotionally before I shut down. I’ve learned this over the years, honed my responses.
Right now, everything in me is shrieking to get away.
“I’m going to leave.” I spin on my heel and go the only place I know I can go—school.
I sign in at the guard booth, since they’re back to extra security measures, and grab a sandwich from the little cafe next to the dining hall. I go up the stairs to the second floor, where all the comfortable chairs are. It isn’t too hard to find one in the corner, semi-isolated, and hunker down.
I curl into myself and watch the crowds moving below. College kids don’t give a fuck if it’s a Monday—apparently, Halloween translates to obscene parties. Groups of girls stream out of the residence halls in various skimpy costumes. Only half of them have jackets. The boys are similarly costumed, but at least they seem to make wiser garment choices.
I shiver, still in my coat. The sandwich sits heavy in my stomach.