Here in the dark shadows, I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her shaking.
What the f**k?
My hands were held up by my head just to show I wasn’t gonna touch her again. I couldn’t deal with this level of crazy right now.
I could feel warmth radiating off her like a damn space heater. And when she slipped back into a hazy beam of moonlight, her hand was on her chest as if trying to calm her pounding heart.
“Okay… okay,” she said breathlessly and slumped back down beside me. “I’ll lie back down.”
This time she was facing me and her eyes never left my hands, as if making sure I wasn’t gonna attempt to touch her again. I wondered what the hell was up with that shit? But I wasn’t gonna pry. Had too much to deal with myself to be concerned with her damn emo issues too.
Crickets chirped outside, and every fifteen minutes, the sound of the campus cops’ radios filled the house. They were doing their rounds—just like good little bitches of the dean—the light from their flashlights illuminating the room, except here behind the couch, where we had our own little pocket of protection.
Hours and hours passed in silence, and I lay on my back just staring once more at the stars through the skylight, the sky brightening with the rising dawn, the dark room now lightened by a hazy orange glow.
I heard Lexi sigh beside me, and I asked, “What do think of when you look up at the stars?”
I caught Lexi’s head tilt to the side and her eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
Minutes passed as she stared silently at the night sky. “Sometimes I wonder what they must make of our world,” she whispered quietly. I didn’t think she’d respond. “Do we fascinate them or disgust them? Do they look down on us the same way we look up at them and wonder what we’re thinking too? Do they see all our problems? Watch our sorrowful excuses for lives with a growing sense of pity? Or do they envy us for just having a life, good or bad?”
Her response surprised me. Sorrowful excuses for lives?
“Ever look at them and feel inferior, feel small?” I added, really wanting to hear her answer.
Lexi fidgeted beside me, lifting her hands to create a frame with her fingers, her left eye closed as she studied Orion’s Belt like she was looking through a telescope. But her hands abruptly lowered and laid flat to her stomach, a guttering expression on her face. “I don’t need to look up at the stars to feel inferior, Austin. All I have to do is open my eyes and look at myself in the mirror.”
My attention snapped to her and a strange feeling rolled my stomach—sympathy?
Lexi yawned beside me and her eyelids began to droop, but she fought to stay awake, never taking her eyes off the stars. I couldn’t stop watching her. Something about her intrigued me. Or maybe it was the fact that she knew about me, about who I was, that drew me to her. I didn’t have to pretend just for right here, right now.
“Go to sleep,” I said after her third consecutive yawn, and she focused on me once more. She was making me f**kin’ tired, and I needed to stay alert.
Lexi simply shook her head and wrapped her arms around her chest, fighting off another yawn.
Damn stubborn chick.
“Lexi, go to f**kin’ sleep. We’re gonna be here all night anyway,” I ordered, and I watched her tired eyes widen.
“Are you gonna sleep?” she asked, and I frowned. Why the f**k did that matter?
“Probably, at some point,” I replied and shrugged my shoulders.
“Okay, then. But…” Her lips pursed in tension. “But please don’t touch me. I… can’t be touched… I’ll stay here hidden, just… don’t touch me.”
“I won’t,” I said vehemently through gritted teeth. Did she think I was gonna grope her in her sleep or some shit? What the hell did she think of me?
Lexi’s eyes closed and, within seconds, she was out, all curled up in the fetal position on the hardwood floor. She looked like a fallen, broken pixie.
I don’t know why I said it, but I leaned down and whispered, “This isn’t who I am, Lexi. I’m not the cold, unfeeling dick you think I am. I just wanted you to know that about me.”
Sighing deep, I pulled out my cell and sent a text to Axel:
Me: Frat house drug raid tonight. ‘H’ product found. Dean knows it’s the Heighters. He’s looking for me to question. I’m hiding out. This shit needs sorting ASAP! Can’t jeopardize football.
Axel replied immediately:
Axel: On it. Did that bitch say something to the dean? Do I need to shut her the hell up? We gotta tie up ALL loose ends.
What felt like panic worked its way up my throat as I read Axel’s text and looked down at Lexi. She was innocent in this mess, but I knew Axel wouldn’t let this go. Looking at her sleep, so tiny, I had the urge to protect her. She reminded me of Mamma—dragged into a shit situation through no fault of her own.
I ran my thumb over the glass of the screen and quickly typed:
Me: She said nothing. I made sure of it. This shit’s on you not being discreet. Sort it. Quick.
I turned off my cell. I couldn’t be f**ked to deal with Axel right now. I was seething. Dropping my head to the cold wooden floor, I looked across at Lexi’s pixie face—all dark and gothic, but underneath all the war paint, she seemed terrified. Of what, I had no clue, but she was fighting some inner demon. I recognized the symptoms.
Closing my eyes, I tried to relax.
Within minutes, I was out.
I woke to the sun streaming through the skylight, Lexi still beside me. During the night, she’d turned over, her fingers touching the tips of mine. It was the first time I’d actually spent a full night with a chick. Don’t get me wrong. I’d f**ked a few groupies along the way, but nothing serious, nothing to make them think they could sleep beside me in bed afterward.
It felt strange.
Pulling back my hand from hers, Lexi began to stir. Her eyes opened slowly and fixed on me, the confused expression on her face showing she was trying to make out how she got here, next to me.
Without speaking, I moved off the floor to check the coast was clear outside. Scouring the grounds through the curtains, all was quiet. Looking at the clock above the open fireplace, it read ten a.m. Campus PD’d be gone for at least an hour. They changed shifts at nine thirty, and patrolling didn’t recommence until way after eleven. Freshman year I learned pretty damn quick to study their schedules—old habits die hard.