Apolonia

“The Gym,” I deadpanned.

He laughed. “Yeah. Just try it with me once. If you don’t feel better afterward, then you never have to go again.”

I thought for a moment. “Maybe.”

He shook his head and held up his bloodstained hands. “I’ll take maybe.”

I left him alone in front of Charlie’s, feeling like he was watching me walk away. I didn’t look back to find out. Being nice gave off the incorrect impression that I wanted to be a friend or, in Benji’s case, possibly something more. So, I wasn’t nice. At least, I tried not to be. Sometimes, the old me bubbled to the surface.

The walk home was chilly and lonely. It was probably because, for the twenty minutes Benji was around, I’d gotten used to the company. That was exactly what I didn’t want. Using my card key to get into my dorm, I walked into the hallway, cussing Benji for bringing out that side of me.

I took the stairs as usual but couldn’t avoid passing the elevators on the way. My mother’s eyes flashed through my mind. I’d seen the line between her brows and the strange look in her gaze just before she died. My father always said she was tough. She was, even as she took her last breath. Her eyes held so much sadness—for being helpless to save me and for the life she thought I would miss out on. She didn’t think about herself in those last moments. She was asking me for forgiveness with her eyes, and through the dirty rag tied around my mouth, I gave it to her. I just couldn’t forgive myself.

The lock to my room clicked, and only then did I realize I’d just climbed two flights of stairs. My mind had been so far away that I wasn’t even conscious of where I was going. It was unsettling. I pushed through the heavy wooden door and leaned back against it until it slammed shut. Reaching behind me, I switched on and then back off the light, turned the lock, and then walked toward my bed, tossing my messenger bag onto the tattered love seat across the room.

Fully dressed, I let myself fall onto the bed, face down into the pillow. A groan escaped from my throat, loud enough for my neighbor Ellie, the bossy, bitchy beauty of the campus to hear. She loved to tell me that my crappy music was too loud, my clothes were too black, and my social life was too sad. It was okay though because I was proud of the fact that I didn’t listen to cheesy pop songs or let everyone see my tits in one of four hundred too-tight V-neck sweaters, and I wasn’t a slutty, whorish whore. Okay, that was harsh. But in our four semesters at Kempton, she’d had the dicks of at least three professors in at least one of her orifices—and those were only the ones she’d bragged about.

I turned onto my side, hoping, praying that I would fall asleep before the memories came too fast and hard to block out. Instead of going through that painful nightly ritual, my eyes focused on the light seeping in beneath my door. My head popped up. Two shadows partially blocked the light.

Feet.

Every muscle tensed, froze, and caught on fire at the same time. Regardless of how much fear screamed through every vein in my body, I was drawn to the danger. I needed to face it head-on, just like last time. Before common sense could step in, one hand was on the lock, the other turning the knob. The door opened so fast, the air from the hallway brushed against my face.

“Cyrus,” I whispered, too shocked to say his name aloud.

He was equally surprised, nearly jumping out of his own skin. “It’s, uh…it’s just Cy actually. Thank you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Listening.”

“To what?”

“Your door.”

“My door,” I said flatly. An awkward silence fell between us, but then I shook my head, and a freak-out commenced. “What do you mean you were listening to my door? My door? Why?”

Cy held out his palms, walking into my room. “No, no, please. It’s not as salacious as it appears. I was just making sure you were home. Safe.” He shut my door behind him, motioning for me to quiet down.

“Why?” I said, my face screwing in disgust.

Cy seemed frustrated and lost. “I…I don’t know. You’re alone. You do dangerous things. I worry about you.”

My eyes narrowed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Cy fidgeted. “Dr. Z might have mentioned—”

“Oh, f**k. What has he told you?”

“That you have a foul mouth, for one.”

“What else?”

“That you’re alone, and you do dangerous things. I just told you—”

“I don’t need anyone checking up on me,” I said, twisting the doorknob.

Cy held the door closed with his hands. “I apologize for the intrusion. I couldn’t help myself. I told myself many times that I shouldn’t.”

“So, why did you?”

“I don’t know. Good night.” With that, he opened the door and walked down the hall.

I shut the door and locked it, my anger and confusion quickly doused with an uncontrollable smile.

Chapter Three

“WHO SPENT THE NIGHT?” Ellie was standing a few feet down the hall, locking her door at the same time I was. Her long brown curls cascaded down her back in perfect spirals.

My hair used to be the same length as hers, but she didn’t feel like she had to wash blood out of hers every night.

She smiled and shifted her weight to her other hip, her mile-long legs actually covered with tight jeans. I looked down, perturbed that mine were just as tight. I didn’t want to be anything like Ellie.

“I have to say,” she said, not waiting for my answer, “I’m surprised, whoever it was. Your new haircut is absolutely appalling.”

“Good,” I murmured.

“What was that?”

“I said, you’re a whore,” I replied, slinging my bag over my shoulder. That was definitely worth a smile, so I wore one all the way to class.

My thick cable cardigan wasn’t enough to ward off the cold, so I kept my arms wrapped tightly around my chest. Everyone else was wearing heavy coats and knitted hats, but I never thought about things like that. I had formulas and data sparking the synapses in my brain, along with horrible memories and now…the golden eyes of the confusing jerk I didn’t want to think about.

But I did think about him—a lot. During class, at night, weekends, and in the lab, I wondered about him. It became a game for me to make up his history and background. I’d wonder if he had a happy childhood or if he was at Kempton to run away from an overbearing father. In every scenario though, he was alone and lonely, and no matter how much I wanted to despise him, I just couldn’t even if it meant he was planning to steal my research assistant position. I knew he was definitely up to something.