Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I don’t know about that. Maybe I’ll find a way to use them to my advantage.”
“How will you—”
“Not sure yet. Working on it.”
“We’re in this together,” Cody adds. “We’ll figure it out. You guys tee him up, and when I’m better, I’ll lay into him. Luke Waters maybe has a few more good weeks at St. Lawrence.”
A surge of guilt hits me. What the hell are we doing to this poor guy?
But unfortunately, it’s our only recourse.
I will tear down this whole goddamn school to get Luke Waters as far away from it as possible, as soon as possible.
4
LUKE
“Hey, Unc,” I answer the FaceTime call.
I prop the cell on the phone mount affixed to my desk, positioning it so Uncle Dan and I can see each other.
“Just had a minute on my break,” he says, “so thought I’d give you a call.”
After my mom died, Dad’s brother became my legal guardian, and he’s definitely stepped up to take on that responsibility. Despite how busy he is with work, he always finds time to check in. And considering I’m not having an easy time making friends here, and my issues with Brad and Seth, not to mention a whole series of fucked-up thoughts around Mom and Dad not being around for this chapter of my life, it’s nice to be able to talk to a guy who I can let my guard down with.
After he tells me a little about his day, he says, “Everything all right? You look stressed.”
“Stayed up late finishing some reading,” I lie.
Because even though I can usually talk to Dan about just about anything, I can’t tell him what’s been occupying my thoughts lately.
Since I confronted Brad in the kitchen at the end of last week, I’ve become a paranoid fucker. Talking to him was supposed to answer my question, but now I have more.
What the fuck happened when he touched me?
Why did I have to run back to my dorm room and jerk off while thinking about him?
And why does my dick twitch every time I see him around campus?
I’m convinced this is something he and Seth did to me. I don’t know how, but I intend to find out.
“If you’re going to lie to me,” Dan says, “then you should make up a more plausible story. Unless you became a totally different person than the Luke who left here, I can’t imagine you weren’t all over that reading. You’re probably a few chapters ahead of the rest of the class.”
I snicker. The guy knows me. “I was just staying ahead.”
Again, a lie, but he can’t know what’s really stressing me out. No one can. If anyone would believe me, it’d be Dan, but considering the theories running through my brain, I’m not saying shit until I’m absolutely certain.
“Been thinking about a part-time job,” I say to change the subject. “I know we agreed—”
“Let’s just get you through this first semester. I make fine money. Not send-you-to-St. Lawrence money, but I can cover you for this. It’s not worth risking your scholarship or falling behind.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Because if I don’t keep an A average, I’m fucked out of tuition, books, and lodging.
“Looks like you’re more settled in,” Dan says. Now he’s the one changing the subject. “I’m already seeing the clothes piling up on your bed.”
“If you’re gonna give me hell, then maybe I should hang up and get back to what I was doing,” I tease.
“It’s nice. Means you’re comfortable.”
“Eh…”
“Uh-oh. Knew I’d hit on something.”
Fuck. Of course he did.
“Just some growing pains.”
“You like your roommate?”
“Yeah, Alexei’s cool. My only friend here right now. Some guys aren’t great. And others don’t seem very friendly.”
I noticed this ramped up after my chat with Brad that morning in the kitchen, so I’m wondering if he spread some rumor or if Seth is running around performing his wizardry on our peers.
“Are you being bullied? You think you need to talk to an administrator?”
I hear the concern in his voice, as he surely reflects on the issues I had in the past.
“This isn’t like when I was younger,” I insist, and at his suspicious gaze, I confess, “But yeah, I might need to. Better than using fists.” That’s the right thing to do, and if there wasn’t this fucked-up element to it that I don’t yet understand, maybe I would have already talked to someone about it. “Sorry, but can we talk about something else?”
Dan reminds me that if I’m threatened, I need to report the incident to administrators, if not the police, before embracing a subject change. We talk about this conference he’s looking forward to attending in a couple of months because it’s in Hawaii. And once we’re all caught up, I say, “I do have a little work I need to finish up before class. Then I have a pickup game.”