This is What Goodbye Looks Like

Author:Olivia Rivers [Rivers, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Sparrow Press
Published: 2016-06-16T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

My plan was simple: Leave my room, get away from the phone call, find Brie, and bawl my eyes out. Instead, I end up in front of the senior boys’ dorm, shaking as the wind crawls through my thin sweater and coats my skin in shivers.

If I get caught in the boys’ dorm, I’ll be facing detention at the very least. But detention seems like a pretty mild threat right now, and besides, the dorm supervisor is an old professor who’s clueless about what goes on here. I fumble with the dorm’s heavy glass door, but my trembling grip keeps slipping, and it just flops shut in my face. A group of guys passes by on the other side, and I knock, drawing their attention. One of them I recognize from my Chemistry class. Greg, I think. Or maybe it’s Michael.

I don’t know, and I don’t bother trying to properly remember his name as he opens the door for me. I just limp straight inside, passing by the supervising professor, who’s snoring in one of the cushioned chairs placed around the entrance. Somehow, I manage to stammer out enough words to make it clear I want to see Seth, and Greg/Michael/Whatever-His-Name-Is gives me whispered directions.

Room C3 is easy enough to find—just a couple turns down the hallway leads me right to Seth’s door. It opens before I even get the chance to knock. Seth steps out of his room and nearly runs into me, but he stumbles to a halt when he hears my panting breaths.

“It’s me,” I blurt out. “Lea.”

He takes a step back. “Hey. I was just heading to grab something from the vending machines.” He leans against the doorframe. “Weren’t we meeting in the parking lot? What are you doing here?”

I swallow hard. “Yeah. Sorry. I just... I...”

Really, what the hell am I doing here? He’s the last person I should be running to for comfort. But all I can think of is the tone of his voice whenever he talks about going home, how hollow it sounds, and how his eyes look just the opposite—filled to the brim with sadness.

Seth takes a couple more steps back. “Girls aren’t allowed in the guys’ dorm.”

“Sorry,” I repeat. I move to leave, but he just waves for me to come inside his room.

“So get out of the hallway,” he says. “I don’t want you getting caught.”

I mumble a hesitant thank you and step inside. The curtains are pulled and all the lights are off, which seems strange at first, until I realize Seth isn’t wearing his sunglasses like usual. The darkness must be more comfortable for his eyes.

“There’s a lamp in the corner,” he says as he closes the door behind me. “You can turn it on, if you want.”

I fumble in the darkness toward the lamp and flick it on, allowing its dim light to illuminate the room. It has the same basic layout as my own dorm, but that’s where the similarities end. I’m assuming the

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