Page 30 of Shattered Saint
I took a moment to smell the flowers, enjoying the way they tickled my nose and how wonderful they smelled. It took me a moment to find the card and once I had I almost dropped it in shock.
I’m sorry.
-E
His phone number was included,and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and rip up the small card. Easton knew why I couldn't stand him since he did what he did to me. Yet he did everything in his power to insert himself into my life just to piss me off. Although I would miss Nash, the sooner they both graduated from Brentson, the fucking better.
I debated throwing out the flowers, but they were too pretty to do so. I sniffed them one more time and took the opportunity to admire them.
When my phone vibrated on the table, I was jolted out of the memories that I tried so hard to push away. I walked back to my coffee table and the text message on the screen was the last thing I expected.
Unknown Number: B, the fun has just begun.
My mouth dropped open as I reread the text.
Who the hell was this?
11
EASTON
The smell of books filled my nose as I settled into the worn wooden chair at a table in the library. I unpacked my notebooks and textbooks before I checked the time. I ran a hand across my face when I saw that it was seven in the evening. I looked down at the items in front of me and picked up my pen.
Where the hell was Nash? We’d agreed to meet half an hour ago so we could study for our philosophy quiz, but there was no sign of him yet. With a sigh, I cracked my neck as I tapped my pen impatiently against the chipped table.
I put the pen down and picked up my phone. As I was about to mindlessly scroll, something caught my eye. My gaze landed on a bright blonde head, and it didn’t take me long to realize that it was Bianca.
She was reading from a book that looked like she’d grabbed it from the library. I watched as she bit her lip, I assumed due to her trying to concentrate on the words in front of her. I hated that I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I’d done my best to make her hate me and the main reason for that was because I knew what we did two years ago shouldn’t go beyond that night.
The flowers that I sent were a way for me to say I was sorry, but I had a feeling it would fall on deaf ears. That was okay though because I had a backup plan that I hadn’t wanted to use, but now it seemed as if I had no other choice.
A yawn fell from my lips as I turned my attention back to my notebook, choosing to focus on existentialism instead of Bianca.
But that still didn’t help me figure out where Nash was. Having him here would almost guarantee that I wouldn’t look in Bianca’s direction because I didn’t want to deal with his questions. I scrolled through my phone to get to my text messages and found nothing from Nash. I decided to send him a message.
Me: Are we still meeting up to study?
I almost put my phone face down on the desk after I sent the message, but something caught my eye. I didn’t get the notification that my message had been delivered, which was odd. I had full service where I was so the only explanation was that his phone was off. That was odd.
When I looked up again, Bianca was still sitting there, one hand in her hair and chewing on the top of her pen. I was surprised she hadn’t looked up and found me staring at her. Part of me wished she would, but I already knew that the sight of me would make her rage and I’d rather not piss her off right now.
Since my phone didn’t vibrate, notifying me that I had a new text message or call, I buried myself in my textbook and began taking handwritten notes for my quiz. Since it wasn’t a major exam, I opted not to bring my laptop with me, choosing to go the old-fashioned route with a pen and paper.
Every so often, I would look up and stare at Bianca before I caught myself and looked back down at the work in front of me. Clearing my throat, I looked down at the pages of my book. However, no matter how hard I forced myself to focus, my attention kept wandering. The rustle of a page turning, the scratch of Bianca's pen across paper, the sound of her typing on her keyboard, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. Any of it was enough to draw my attention to her.
I was convinced that I might have had more success studying in my apartment versus here right now, but Nash thought that the library might be a good change of scenery. Then, he had the nerve not to show up.
As I was finishing up a paragraph, I looked up and noticed that Bianca was standing. She took the opportunity to stretch and as a result, I watched as her shirt lifted slightly, showing a sliver of her stomach. It made me itch to touch it and so much more, but I knew I wasn’t allowed to.
At least not yet.
After finding out that we now were taking a class together, I knew this was a sign that, although I fucked up, there was something there.
And I was determined to prove that to her, even if it took years.
By the time Bianca started packing up her things, I swore that I’d re-read the same sentence in my textbook at least ten times without comprehending a word. I couldn’t help but watch Bianca put her things in her bag, double-checking to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind. A couple of times, she looked over her shoulder as if she was looking for someone or something, and I couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about. There was no one near her, but maybe she’d heard something I couldn’t that made her suspicious.
Once she finished packing her bag, she tossed it over her shoulder and looked around the table she was sitting at one last time. As she was about to leave, one of her sorority sisters with ΗΣΝ written across her sweatshirt, stopped Bianca and began to talk to her quietly. I watched as Bianca nodded along to whatever was being said and together, they left the library, none the wiser that I’d been watching her since I arrived.
