Page 61 of A Perfect World
I slammed the door, eyes squeezed shut and back pressed to it, forcing a deep breath. I wouldn’t let her get to me. I wouldn’t let her-
“Who upset you?”
My eyes flew open, to the concerned face of my boyfriend.
“I’m fine,” I lied, my throat constricting.
Ollie glared at me. “Liar.”
Damn him for knowing me inside and out.
“Hannah just-”
“That bitch,” he hissed, glaring at the door with swirling eyes-
I pressed my palms into his chest. “Stop,” I begged. “I’m fine.”
Careless whistling neared us as Jack strolled down the hall, twirling his keys. “What’s the hold up, lovebirds?”
Ollie’s intense stare was unrelenting.
I looked at Jack. “I’m ready to hunt down a Merit asshole.”
Jack fist-pumped. “Atta girl, Tiny Dancer!”
Hands gripped my shoulders. I blinked up at Ollie’s merciless blue eyes. He studied my face as if the truth was written in my pores. And maybe it was. Rationally, I knew I shouldn’t have let Hannah get under my skin, but the heart wasn’t rational. Day in and day out of living in the same dorm, she smothered me under the weight of her ire. What if I deserved it? Maybe shewasright. Maybe I wasn’t worthy of friendship. Or love. Heaviness settled into my bones.
I forced a smile, desperate to silence the steady stream of doubt.
“Let’s crash a party.”
“You heard the girl, time to serve up a platter of Don’t Mess With the Mutants,” Jack chimed in, elbowing Ollie in the ribs. My boyfriend didn’t look remotely convinced, but he laced his fingers through mine, momentarily accepting my lies. Or biding his time until I wore down.
We exited the dorm, angling for Greek Row with Jack moving down a list of songs he wrote, singing snippets until some bird or squirrel distracted him. The cloud of misery started to lift under the influence of his contagious energy.
“Are Miranda and Serina there already?” I asked.
Jack checked his phone. “Nah, they’re waiting outside the sorority house.”
“This better not be a trap,” Ollie growled.
Jack rolled his eyes, “Calm down, Broody Boy. My sister might be psychotic, but she’s not evil.” Ollie grunted in response, a scowl set on his lips, picking up our pace. Jack flicked Ollie’s ear. “Pull the stick out of your ass, your skepticism is ruining my vibe.”
“The vibe of dismantling an asshole’s brain for information?” Ollie asked, unamused.
“No, you unimaginative brute,” Jack scoffed, twirling his hands as if casting a spell. “The vibe of sticking it to the man.” Ollie only cocked a brow. His best friend let out an exaggerated sigh. “Tiny Dancer, can you touch his dick or something? I’m sick of his pissy face.”
“My face isn’t pissy.”
“It totally is.”
“You definitely have a pissy face,” Miranda interjected, strutting down the steps of a colonial style sorority house. Beside her walked the same golden blond from move-in day. Her honey eyes skipped over us, a rosy flush tinting her cheeks.
“See? It’s not just me,” Jack interrupted, jerking a thumb at Ollie as he approached his twin. “He’s got his balls in a twist, thinking you’re setting him up or something.”
Miranda leveled a glare at Ollie. “Look in my head then, if you’re so skeptical.”
Ollie’s eyes narrowed to slits, considering her challenge. Their stare off lasted a minute, his eyes remaining blue. Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the girl beside Miranda.
