You had to shit money and wipe your ass with it to be able to afford Hillcrest. You had to be the richest of the rich to afford a place like that for four years. Plus, it was a male-only private university—which there weren’t any of nowadays. There used to be a lot more decades ago, but, you know, women power and feminism and equality and all that. It was really only a matter of time before Hillcrest followed suit.
And anyways, girls came from rich families, too. Their money was just as good as men’s money.
Mel was on her bed, her laptop on her lap. Bags hung under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well the previous night. She watched me pack a few things into my backpack—fuck homework. I wasn’t going to do shit this weekend. “I hope you have fun.”
“Oh, I plan on it.” I sounded curt, brusque, short, but that’s because at this point, I didn’t know what to say. If I talked about what I wanted to do out loud, it was quite possible I’d chicken out, because regardless of how much I thought about him, about how much he’d fucked me over and hurt Mel, I still felt something for him.
Fuck Levi.
I had to destroy that kernel still inside of me.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
When Mel said that, my back straightened, and I looked at her. That sounded…ominous, didn’t it? Regret. I regretted a lot of things, but what I would do this weekend? That wouldn’t join the pile. Everything I was going to do this weekend was to help me get over Levi, to get me back into my normal self—because this sniveling, whining wimp that I’d been lately? So not me.
“I won’t,” I said, meaning it.
I hoped.
Chapter Twenty-Six – Levi
I knew what dorm building she lived in, I just didn’t know what floor or what room. That’s what the front desk was for, and since it was another student working it right now, I knew I had it in the bag.
This was a stupid idea, but I just couldn’t let it go on any longer. If I had to camp outside of her door, repeat myself a thousand and one times, I would. It was Dean, not me. Granted, I wasn’t blameless, but I’d be damned if I let her go on and think it was all me.
Yes, I’d fucked up when it came to Mel. I did her wrong, and everything that happened last year after that had happened because of me. Me and Dean, but I hated being lumped together with him. Dean was the whole reason Mel was the one chosen for me. If it wasn’t for him, it would’ve been some other girl—not that that made it any better, but…at least it would’ve made things a little less complicated when it came to Kelsey and me.
The one working the front desk of her dorm building was a guy who currently had his nose in a textbook. He looked like the studious, quiet type. His hair was cut short, and his clothes were clean. I was trying to think of a way to get him to tell me where Kelsey’s room was without sounding too pathetic or stalkery.
I leaned on the counter near him, causing his eyes to glance at me. “Hey,” I said. “I was hoping you can help me.” I sounded confident, and I hoped this guy would help me without too much strong-arming. I couldn’t exactly beat him up or anything, but I was dying to see her. I needed to see her, to talk to her.
“With what?” he asked.
“My girlfriend lives here,” I went on, hoping this story I was about to pull out of my ass was a believable one. Beside the front counter, a lounge sat on the left while a wall of mailboxes sat on the right. Tiny metal squares each and every student in the dorm got a key to, where they got mail while they were here. It would have to do. “I wanted to send her flowers for our anniversary, but I can’t remember what room is hers. Can you do me a solid and help me out?”
The guy behind the counter studied me, eyeing me up and down as if mentally wondering if I was telling the truth, or if I was some crazy stalker simply trying to get her room number. “I’m not supposed to give any information out—”
“Please, man,” I said, trying to act as desperate as I could. And I was desperate, so it wasn’t that hard of an act. I’d never been this desperate for anyone before. “I’m in some hot water with her. I won’t tell anyone you gave it to me.” It was meant as a promise, a plea to this guy to just tell me her room number.
His stern expression eventually softened, and he muttered, “Give me one second.” A desktop computer sat on the side of the rounded counter, and he rolled his chair to it, typing something in. He scrolled for a bit, asking, “Name?”
“Thank you, man,” I said before adding, “Kelsey Yates.” It was a damn good thing I had a class with her, otherwise I’d have no idea what her last name was. That would’ve looked fishy.
He typed in her name, exiting out of whatever screen it was before he rolled back to me. “She’s in three-oh-eight.”
I tapped the counter. “You rock. Thanks.” I was out the front door of the dorm before the guy could even respond. If I would’ve gone straight to the elevator, that would’ve been even fishier. No, I had to walk around
