Chapter 7 Seven
DANIKA
Instantly, I pull away from him. The last thing I want to do is spend another second around him. Tyler sighs, going after me as I turn away.
"Cakes, hear me out," he says, and I tighten my grip on my bag, upset.
Then I halt suddenly, nearly bumping into him.
"You already made it clear where you stand, Tyler. A couple of apology texts won't fix anything," I say, glancing at him over my shoulder, and he flinches.
"Let me make it right. I...I want to," he tells me, his eyes burning with frustration.
"Fine. Do whatever you like. You're not going to listen to me anyway," I drone.
Then I storm off. He doesn't stop me this time.
By the time I make it to my apartment, my mind has descended into chaos. To be honest, I miss my best friend. But his betrayal hurts me more.
I push the door open with more force than necessary, ready to collapse into bed and bury my face in my pillow. But then, I freeze. There's someone in the living room.
A new face—well, not exactly new.
"Danika?" she gasps, her eyes widening.
I blink. "Eve?"
The tall girl springs up from where she's been unpacking a box, and suddenly I'm grinning despite myself.
"Oh my God, it is you!" She laughs, pulling me into a quick hug. "I didn't realize you were the third roommate!"
For the first time today, my chest feels lighter. "Same here. Small world."
We both laugh, settling on the edge of the couch. Conversation flows easily, like it's been waiting for this moment. Eve starts talking about her high school, the stories rolling out of her delightfully.
I love her already. Apart from Tyler, I've never had a real friend.
"I used to get bullied a lot," Eve admits, lowering her gaze. "People said I looked like a stick. Apparently, I'm too tall and too slim. Like a...scarecrow or something." She chuckles dryly, but I can still hear the sting in her voice.
I stare at her, genuinely shocked. Eve is gorgeous. A living goddess.
With her long limbs and flawless skin, she's definitely the kind of girl who should've been prom queen or whatever. "Wait, you? Bullied?"
She shrugs. "Looks don't save you. Kids always find something."
That hits home.
I give her a sad smile, my chest tight. "I get it. I was bullied too. But for the opposite reason. You have no idea how hard I tried to lose weight. I passed out one time at school. And yes, they still made fun of me."
She sighs, taking my hand in hers.
"Well," Eve says softly, giving me a gentle smile, "I guess we both survived, huh?"
"Barely," I snort, but it makes her laugh.
Suddenly, her eyes brighten. "Hey, tonight's orientation night. You should come with me. It'll be fun."
I lower my gaze, biting my lower lip. "I'm not sure..."
She nudges my shoulder, grinning. "Come on, Danika. You can't hide in here forever. Let's at least check it out together. If it sucks, we leave. Deal?"
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and despite myself, I feel my lips twitch. "Fine. Deal."
Maybe, just maybe, freshman year won't be so terrible after all.
...
I check myself out in front of the mirror, cocking my head. My hair actually looks decent for once, and my lips are perfectly moisturized. Eve's voice drifts down the hall as she hums some pop song, the sound of her excitement filling the apartment.
For the first time all day, I almost feel... normal.
My phone buzzes against the dresser, and I reach for it, frowning when I see that I'm getting a video call from an unknown number.
A new text message slides across the screen, and butterflies swarm my belly.
'Pick up the call, sweetheart.'
Kaziel. It has to be him.
With shaky fingers, I swipe to answer the call.
The instant his face fills the screen, my heart skips a beat. He's shirtless, his beautiful tattoos standing proudly on his skin. His hair looks a little messy, like he's been running his fingers through the strands.
"You got home alright?" he asks.
I can't get used to the sexy sound of his deep voice.
I can almost smell his addictive scent.
I nod, a little too quickly. "Yes. I'm fine."
"Good." His eyes rake over me hungrily, and my cheeks burn hot. "Don't go anywhere without telling me first, Danika. Promise me."
The demand makes me wince before I can stop myself. His sharp gaze catches it instantly.
"What was that?" he asks, a slight crease settling between his brows. "Don't lie to me."
I hesitate, then I let out an exhale. "I... I'm going to orientation night. With my roommate."
His eyes narrow slightly. He leans closer to the camera, as if he's trying to read the truth from my face. "Do you really have to go?"
"Yes," I whisper, my voice faltering slightly. "I do."
For a long moment, he just watches me. My heart beats faster with anxiety.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. Then he sighs.
"I have no choice then," he mutters.
I frown at him. "Kaziel...what do you mean?"
But before I can get an answer, the line goes dead.
I stare at the screen, my pulse thundering.
No choice?
What exactly does that mean?
A while later, I head over to Eve's room, knocking on the door.
"I'll be out soon!" She yells over the sound of the music. I grin, moving to the sitting room.
Our other roommate didn't come home tonight. I'd met her when I first moved in. She had seemed withdrawn and cold. Not exactly friendly. I didn't even get to know her name.
Plopping down on the couch, I notice the thick novel lying beside me. It's the same one I'd seen with Danika earlier. I reach for it, picking it up. Then I flip it open. My heart stutters in my chest when I see the photo half hidden there.
It's Kaziel. He's wearing a lab coat, standing by a building with a disposable cup in his hand. He looks...younger, his short hair in a taper fade.
Judging from the angle, the picture was taken without his knowledge.
Why does Eve have this photo?
"Alright, I'm ready! What do you think?"
I look up quickly, my fingers tightening on the photo in my hand.
Eve twirls in the doorway, her ponytail bouncing, her lips painted in a glossy cherry-red that looks wicked against her porcelain skin.
The tiny black dress hugs every line of her body, stopping daringly at mid-thigh. Her sheer lacy hose glisten under the light, ending in the shimmer of tall, sharp stiletto heels.
What the—
She poses, hand on her hip, tilting her head like she's on a runway.
"So?" she grins, her eyes sparkling. "Too much?"
I snap the book shut, my heart hammering. "N-No. You look..." I swallow hard, forcing a smile. "...you look gorgeous."
Her lips curve in satisfaction, but her gaze darts to the book I've just shoved onto the couch. For a split second, something unreadable crosses her face. But then it's gone, hidden behind her charm.
Eve moves closer, giving me a once-over. Then she bursts into laughter.
"Oh my God, Dani..." she drawls, her eyes darting from my jeans to my tucked-in blouse. "What are you wearing?"
Heat floods my face. I tug at my sleeve defensively. "What? It's just... normal clothes."
"Normal for a funeral, maybe," she teases, crossing her arms. "Sweetheart, you can't show up to orientation looking like a librarian."
"I like this," I mumble, even though I suddenly don't.
Eve smirks. "Trust me. If we're walking in together, I am not letting you go in like that. You've got curves people would kill for, so why are you hiding them?"
My throat tightens. I open my mouth to argue, but she's already pulling me to her room and yanking her closet open. She snatches a tiny slip of black satin and shoves it into my hands.
"Try it."
"I can't—"
"Yes, you can," she cuts me off, grinning. "You're going to look insane in this. Trust me, Dani. One night. Just one. You might even like the attention."
I bite my lip, my stomach sinking as I glance down at the dress. It looks like it belongs on her. Not me. The neckline plunges dangerously, and the hem would barely skim my thighs.
Still... a part of me aches to know what it feels like to be seen.
Ten minutes later, I'm standing in front of her mirror, tugging at the hem every other second.
"Eve," I whisper, horrified. "I can't walk out like this."
She claps her hands, circling me with the delighted air of an artist admiring her masterpiece. "You absolutely can. Dani, look at you. That waist, those legs. You're drop-dead gorgeous."
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. "I feel... exposed."
"Good," she whispers, settling her hands on my shoulders. "Exposed is power."
This is a bad idea.
Still, I follow her out of the house, trying not to break my ankles as I struggle with the red stilettos on my feet. Who dresses like this for orientation?
The instant we arrive outside the venue, my phone vibrates, and I take it out, only to be greeted by a text message in all caps. From Kaziel.
‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING?’
I freeze, my cheeks heating up.
How—
Another text pops up, and a gasp slips from my lips.
‘You are begging to be fucked into a wheelchair, aren’t you?’