Bad Influence (Bad Love 3)

Discomfort rolls through me at what I’m about to say. “We haven’t really talked about what happened—”

“Don’t.” Dylan’s nostrils flare and he shuts his eyes. “You were grieving. I was upset. That’s all it was.”

“Agreed,” I say firmly with a nod. “I don’t want it to change things.”

“We’re fine. Listen, I gotta meet the band…” he trails off, dropping my hand before he stands.

“Yeah, okay. Let me know when you play next?”

“Sure. You need a ride?” I should say yes, but asking a favor from him feels weird right about now. I’ll call Halston to pick me up instead.

“I’ve got one.”

He gives me a brusque nod before turning to leave.

When my marketing class is over, I slide my laptop into my backpack, then check my phone to see what Halston wants. I could hear my phone buzzing from my bag all through class. Three missed calls and one text.

Halston: Call me after class. It’s important.

I frown, typing out a quick response.

Me: Everything okay?

Halston: Someone snitched.

Shit. I don’t need to ask for clarification. We knew this was a possibility. I hitch my backpack onto my shoulder and make my way across the small campus. When I get to the dorm room, Halston is sitting on her bed, legs crossed, puppy dog eyes directed at me.

“What happened?” I ask, dropping my bag to the floor as I kick the door shut behind me.

“Stephanie happened,” she mutters.

“But Stephanie knows the deal,” I say, confused. Stephanie is the RA, and she has to know I’ve been staying here. She saw me in a towel, carrying my shower caddy down the hall, for fuck’s sake.

“Apparently, someone complained, so she couldn’t look the other way anymore.”

“Are you in trouble? I can tell them—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. They just gave me a warning. I’m just worried about you.”

“Well, thank fuck for that.” The last thing I want is for her to be punished for trying to help me out.

“What are you going to do?”

I shrug. “I’ll probably call Dylan.” I hate depending on him, but I have two more months before my grandparents’ vacation rental is free, and there’s no way I can afford to stay in a hotel. Halston wiggles her eyebrows at the mention of Dylan.

“Can you take me with you?”

I laugh, lifting my suitcase from the closet and plopping it on my bed. “If you want to live in a party pad with piss-sprinkled toilet seats and moldy food in the fridge, by all means…”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll just visit,” she says, scrunching her nose in disgust. Truthfully, it’s not that bad. But not even her love for boys can outweigh her high-maintenance tendencies. Halston comes from a rich family, so I’m not sure why she even bothers with dorm living.

Halston helps me throw most everything into my suitcase. I only fill my backpack with essentials—an extra outfit, toiletries, phone charger, and, of course, my trusty CD player.

“I’ll be back for that,” I say, flinging my arm toward my suitcase.

“You’ll be back every day,” she corrects.

She throws her arms around me, smashing my face to her chest. “Can’t. Breathe.”