Hate to Love You

I started remembering—the football game. She was there, too.

“You were there. The Dick Crushing moment.”

Missy’s words came to me. “Some girl stopped by the room and asked about you.”

“That was you. You went to my old dorm room, asking about me.”

Phoebe paused, her head tilting. Her eyes were so flat.

A chill went down my spine.

“You might not understand it, but you being here is a problem. You’ll bring him into her life again, and she’ll end up leaving my brother. Then my relationship with him will end, too. He’ll stop coming to see me. I can’t let that happen.”

I saw the two shadows again.

They’d been behind me before. They were in front of me this time.

They were coming, coming, getting bigger and bigger.

I couldn’t look away from her.

I barely glimpsed them before.

She became those two shadows.

And then hearing her last words, it was like seeing the bat appear for the first time again.

She said, “I’ve been racking my brain about how to handle you, and then I remembered that you were attacked.”

She started forward.

She said, “I need to finish what they started. That’s why you were brought here.”

She started for me—

No.

I knew what she was going to do in the back of my mind, but time turned off for me. It slowed. She was starting for me.

It didn’t matter.

An eerie calm came over me.

This was my make-up time. I was getting a second chance.

I wouldn’t be a victim this time. She was giving me that opportunity. She didn’t sneak up behind me. She was coming at me from the front.

I could fight back this time.

I would fight back. I felt the need to do this rising up in me.

“Hey!”

I stopped.

Time snapped back to reality.

That was Casey’s voice.

Phoebe stopped also, turning around. Both of my roommates were running toward us. They were in their pajamas. Kristina had grabbed a robe, but it flopped open, flying behind her like a cape.

Casey had a perpetual scowl on her face. She pointed at us. “What’s going on? That’s my roommate.”

Phoebe was a deer in headlights. She was right in front of me, a dumbstruck look on her face, and she gaped between us.

This whole thing was surreal.

Kristina was right next to Casey, our room phone in her hand. She was holding it up toward me. “Shay called. He said something was wrong.”

Phoebe was trapped.

I was standing in the only opened door. The other one was locked in place, and my roommates boxed her in. Her only way out was through us, or if the dorm room opened behind her. I doubted she could crawl through the window, and for what?

I said, “Just give it up.”

Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She looked between my roommates and me.

Then, one by one, the doors all along the hallway started opening until the RA came out and the lights were switched on.

Our little triangle of four that had formed now doubled.

The resident advisor saw Phoebe, then me, and stopped in her tracks. She let out a sigh. “Oh, boy.”

Casey reeled to her. “Oh, boy? What does that mean?”

She ignored Casey, looking at me. “What happened?”

“Call security. She threatened me. She’s psycho because of Shay.”

“Me?” I could hear from the phone in Kristina’s hand.

She handed it over. “He’s on the phone. He said your phone cut out, and when he couldn’t get ahold of you, he called us. We called the cops.”

“Yeah.” Casey waved her cell around. “They’re coming.”

“No.” Two uniformed police opened the door from behind me with a security guard beside them. “We’re here,” one of the cops spoke, raking over the group. His eyes fell to me and then Phoebe. “We received a 9-1-1 call that hung up. It was traced back here. Took a bit to coordinate with campus security what dorm until,” he nodded at Casey, “your call. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am.” She fought against grinning. “He called me ma’am. I don’t know if that’s insulting or flattering.”

“Kennedy!” Shay barked from the phone, and I took it, saying into it, “Cops are here.”

“Good, but why?”

The first officer took out his notepad. “Someone needs to start talking.”

The resident advisor ran a hand through her hair. “Uh . . .” Her eyes found mine again. “Go with Kennedy.”

Casey shot her hand up again, cell phone still in it. “We came out to the hallway, and swear to God, we saw this bitch”—she pointed at Phoebe—“starting to chase our roommate.”

“That true?”

The cop was waiting, and I nodded, hearing Shay’s voice from the phone. “Yeah. I don’t know what she was going to do, but she was going to do something.”

“That true?” The same question, directed at Phoebe.

She only swallowed, her mouth closed, and she raised her chin.

“You’re not talking?” The second cop moved forward, taking her by the arm. He asked the RA, “You know both of these girls?”

“I know Phoebe, but not Kennedy that well. She and her roommates just moved in this semester.”

“She’s Shay Coleman’s girlfriend.”

Both cops and the guard looked at one of the girls who spoke. She had on a robe like Kristina, but hers was tied at the waist. “And Phoebe’s obsessed with Shay Coleman.”

The resident advisor winced.

Kristina and Casey both gaped at Phoebe before turning their wide eyes to me. “Is that true?”

I nodded. “From what she was saying, yes.”

“I’m not obsessed with Shay.”

“No. She’s obsessed with her brother, who’s obsessed with Shay.”

“Who?”

My heart leapt at the same time I did. Shay appeared behind the cop, just on the other side of the opened door, his phone in hand and Linde following close behind.

Shay found me. “You okay?”

I started to nod but hurled myself into his arms instead.

As soon as I hit his strong chest and his arms folded around me, I could breathe easier. Phoebe might not have been the same as my first attack, but it didn’t matter. It’d been the second time something almost happened, with the first actually putting me in the hospital. I’d been more in shock until Shay was there. Standing in his shelter, the fear started coming down on me.

I was trembling soon, and he gathered me close, tucking his head down beside mine. He whispered so no one could hear, “You’re okay.”

He ran a hand down my hair and back.

“You’re Shay Coleman? The football guy?” Both cops shared a look.

The security guard nodded, hitching up his pants. “Yep. That’s Shay Coleman.”

The cops turned to the guard, shared a brief look, and turned back to Shay.

“Yeah.” Shay nodded.

They looked at Linde, asking, “And you are?”

“That’s Raymond Linde. He’s an offensive lineman for our team, too.” The security guard’s keys jingled as he gestured to Linde. He sounded all authoritative, clearing his throat. “We never usually have trouble with those two.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s a roommate of mine.” Shay frowned at the guard before asking me, “What exactly happened?”

“We’ll take both girls down to the station and ask ’em some questions, but it looks like nothing happened.”

“This time.”

Both stilled, looking at Shay.

He repeated, his jaw clenching as he raked over Phoebe, “My girlfriend was attacked before. She didn’t walk from the scene the last time.”

The first cop pointed to Phoebe. “By her?”

“No.” I cleared my throat, tucking my shaking hands into my sweatshirt. “By two guys.”

“They obsessed with your boyfriend, too?”

I shook my head. Both cops thought this was funny. I could hear the amusement in one and saw the glint of laughter in the other before he coughed, covering it up. But this wasn’t funny. It was so far from funny. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">