“Charlotte, sarcasm isn't going to help your situation. I'm giving you another week to say your goodbyes, and make your choice. Try to act like an adult, and really think this over.”
“I don't need time to think; I'm staying here.”
“Unfortunately, no, you're not.” Dad levels his gaze on me, mouth in a flat line, glasses catching the light of the flickering flames of the candelabra. “Now, please sit down and eat the nice meal I made you.”
“Sorry, but I have adult choices to make,” I spit, storming over to the front door and grabbing my jacket. Dad follows after me, but even his commands to come back don't stop me from taking off down the path by myself.
Fortunately, the astronomy club happens to be outside in the field, gazing up at the stars. If I screamed, they'd hear me. So, luckily for me, I make it back to the boys' dormitory alive this time—and without being chased by a guy with a knife. Lucky.
I text Dad a pic of the sign depicting the dormitory rules with the words alive, no worries. And then I head up the stairs to Spencer's room, lifting my fist to knock. Nobody answers, and I frown, moving over to the twins' room instead.
Nothing.
“They're not here,” Church says, appearing in the doorway to what's supposed to be Spencer's room. He smiles at me and then moves back inside, clearly waiting for me to follow. I do, and find myself in a room much like the others, but with more homey touches than I would've guessed. He has ridiculous signs everywhere, the kind that housewives and authors are obsessed with that say shit like It’s Coffee O’clock and But First … Coffee. The dude seriously has a problem.
“Where are they?” I ask as Church gestures to the extra bed, and I take a seat on it. Everything is meticulous in here, crisp and clean, and well-organized. There's an entire shelf of fantasy novels and manga, and a whole wall covered in pictures of faraway places.
Church sits down on his own bed and crosses his long legs. It's easy to see why they put his face on all the brochures. He really is quite pretty to look at, with that shiny honey hair paired with bright, amber eyes, and a smile that turns serious wattage.
He’s using it on me now, and it’s working. My mouth twitches.
“Dinner.” Just that one word, said with a flash of cocksure smirk. He’s got the prince of the school act down pat.
“And you didn't want to go with them?”
“I had an inkling you might stop by,” he says, studying me carefully. “Your father approached me today to see if the Culinary Club might be interested in throwing you a going away party.”
My face pales, and I slump back against the wall with a sigh.
“Have you told anyone else yet?” I ask, and Church very gently shakes his head no. “Why not?”
“Isn't that why you're here in the first place?” he asks me, reaching over to grab a blended coffee drink off the nightstand. He sips it while staring at me.
“Yeah, pretty much.” My voice sounds soggy and low. It's depressing to hear. “I don't want to go back to California.”
“You want to stay with Spencer,” Church guesses, but there's no question mark at the end of his sentence. He knows that I do. “And the twins, more than likely.” For a second there, I wonder if he’s going to add something else. He doesn’t. It’s like he’s searching for information and holding back at the same time, I don’t get it.
“Have you ever had a crush on more than one person at a time?” I ask, and Church just smiles at me.
“No.”
There's a long pause before he stands up and moves over to a red mini-fridge that's plugged in at the end of the bed I'm sitting on. It's got a nice, glossy finish, and this vintage look that makes it seem so charming. Church opens it and folds his long body in half to peer inside.
“What would you like to drink? I have coffee, coffee, or coffee.” He lifts his head up to look at me, and flashes a huge, blinding sort of smile. “Mocha? Vanilla latte? A caramel chocolate thing that looks absolutely heart-stopping.”
“What you have is more than an interest, it’s an addiction,” I tell him, but then I smile a little, too. I'll never forget the way he looked in the woods that day, when he thought he'd first lost one friend then the other. There was a depth to the Student Council president that surprised me. He feels emotion on a whole other level. Makes me want to be a better person, to be honest. If I were, would I understand him better? “But I'll take the caramel-chocolate thing.”
