Grey_The Encounter Page 11

  I shrug, my heart still pounding from his previous words. I anxiously push a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ve always loved the concept of captivating a moment in the lens. It makes me feel…I don’t know, eternal maybe. Like, no matter what else happens afterward, you still have that moment with you forever.” I smile, remembering something, one of the few good memories of that night.

  I clear my throat and add, “I know I sound silly.” I wave a hand, feeling my cheeks swell with heat. I keep my eyes focused on a rock, for I know he’s gearing up to descend into mock laughter. But when I look up, I find something I didn’t expect—a smile.

  “You don’t sound silly, Liv…”

  “Don’t call me that,” I say through gritted teeth, lifting my eyes to his. My bottom lip trembles, and I glance around, feeling his eyes pierce through me. “He…he, um…he used to call me that.” I pinch and prod with a charm on my bracelet. It’s the heart with the letter J engraved in the middle.

  “Who?” Grey asks, his voice a soft whisper. Something I was not expecting him actually caring about me.

  I lift my eyes and croak out while shrugging my shoulders. “Jonah.”

  “Who’s that?” he asks and holds up a finger when a ringing noise pierces the air. The soothing, borderline bonding moment is shattered, and I wrap my arms around my stomach. Now that the sun has set, and the sky is growing darker, the wind has picked up, making it colder with each second that passes.

  “My brother,” I say, watching him scowl at his phone. He swipes his tongue across his jutted-out bottom lip and runs his hand under his nose in a quick swipe before standing.

  “I gotta be somewhere right now. Come on.” He nods to the opening of the forest. “We’ll do this some other time.” He heads for the opening before I even have time to stand.

  “Okay…” I trail off, feeling my heart sink into the pit of my stomach as I watch him walk away with absolutely no regards to me.

  And here I thought I could actually grow to like him. As a friend. I pray for the girl who develops anything deeper.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Mason, over here!” I call out, waving my arms to get his attention. The small bell that hangs above the door chimes after he enters, and he looks up from his phone and smiles at me. I mirror his warm smile and stand and hug him when he nears the bistro table next to the window. The hug is small and over in a second.

  “It’s so nice seeing you again. I feel like this week has moved at a crawl,” I exaggerate, smiling. He laughs and sits down; I follow suit and take a sip of my black coffee.

  “I’ve honestly been feeling the same way,” he confesses, letting out an exhausted sigh as he places his dark brown satchel in the empty wooden chair next to us. He picks up his black coffee—a preference that he and I share—and looks at it like he’s been craving it for an eternity. “You never know how much work goes into becoming a lawyer until your criminal law professor gives you an assignment to research a cold case no one’s ever cracked before. Drawing up defenses for the court and filing paperwork—I’m falling asleep myself just thinking about all I’ve done. I’m sorry if I’m boring you.” He frowns, but I wave a hand and pick up my own coffee.

  “You’re not boring me. I actually find it interesting.” I take a small sip of the simmering coffee, pausing as he tastes his own. “So have you busted the case?” I cross my legs under the table. Well, as best as I can with the pencil skirt I’m wearing.

  He shakes his head and puts his mug down. “No, but I drew up a decent argument—I think, at least.” He draws up his face, and I let out a laugh and tap his hand.

  “I’m sure you did fine. I’m quickly discovering you’re pretty smart. I mean, just look at that satchel.” I glance at the leather satchel sitting in the chair and give him a joking wink. “If you dress the part, you have a better chance at becoming the part.”

  “Are we really going to ignore this blazer?” He shrugs his shoulders. Another laugh tumbles out of my lips, and he chuckles before drinking more of his coffee. I like this. Being able to have a friend to joke around with.

  I wasn’t this open and playful five hours ago. Because five hours ago I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think, and I definitely couldn’t laugh. Not when all I could think about was Grey. What was it about that tatted rude boy that pushed everything important—like our project which is nowhere near completion—out of my mind? This has never happened before, my putting off schoolwork, and I don’t want it to continue.

  When Mason excuses himself to the restroom, I pull out my phone and send Grey a text despite the negative feelings I have toward him at the moment. And they aren’t totally unjustified. He ditched our time together—to work on the project—to have sex with Diana, or whatever gross things they do alone. I’m assuming that was the reason, but what else could have been of dire importance?

  He could have found you boring, my sub-conscience whispers.

  When doesn’t he? I snap to myself—in my head, of course. It would be insane for me to talk to myself.

  I find myself clutching my phone in anger and debating whether or not to track him down and demand the answer to why he had to leave so abruptly yesterday. I couldn’t do that, though. I’m meeting with Mason, and I promised to spend this time wisely because he has to study later. Ditching this precious time with Mason to track down an ill-mannered manwhore would be both idiotic and disrespectful to my friend.

  “Whoa, who’s got you all fired up?” Mason jokes as he sits. I don’t want to drag him into whatever this is between Grey and me.

  “Nothing.” I change the subject. “We were talking about your horrendous blazer?”

  ***

  If there is one thing I fear more than death, it’s getting close to people. Death is inevitable. There are thousands upon thousands of deaths every single day across the world. It may not affect you or it may, but there is nothing you can do to prevent or avoid it. You either prepare yourself or bask in ignorance and accept fear into your heart.

  And although death shouldn’t be anywhere on my radar at my age, it’s affected my ability to grow close with others, because I lost the person closest to me when I was younger. And I don’t want to suffer the loss again with anyone else. So I keep my distance with people and set a goal to distract myself.

  Yesterday I felt my fear dissolving because of Grey. I’ve felt it before, hidden in a few moments when he wasn’t being a total ass or mocking my attire. I can sense something growing between us, and I’m scared it’ll roll until it forms into a massive ball of feelings, attachment toward him, and land in my gut, leaving me doubled over with a catastrophic feeling of misery. Like when Jonah left me.

  That’s why I plan to avoid him and ignore the flutters in my stomach that I get when he is near. All I have to do is get this assignment over with and then I won’t need to see him ever again. If only he weren’t so unreliable. I tried calling and texting him today, so we could squeeze in the rest of the questions, but he didn’t bother to pick up or send a reply. I would have cornered him in Psych, but he wasn’t even there.

  I started to question why he was avoiding me. If anything, I’m in the right here. He bolted as soon as I brought up something personal. It was like my haunting past was an inconvenience to him.

  He’s very confusing: calling me a prude one minute and making me lose my breath the next. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was bipolar. But I know I shouldn’t just throw that term around all willy nilly, because it is a real life-affecting disease, and it would be insensitive of me to just assume that of him.

  I just wish he could pick a mood, so I don’t have to be so confused all the time.

  “Hey, you okay?” Mason asks, and my thoughts flood out of my mind.

  I look up from my open notebook and into his worried expression. We’re currently at the library, studying. Earlier, when we got coffee before classes started, he asked the same question and I answered the same, like I am now.

  “I’m
fine. Thanks for asking.” I give him a reassuring smile and take a sip of my coffee I bought twenty minutes ago. It’s growing slightly cold, but it’s keeping me focused, well, as focused as I can be with Grey filling every corner of my mind. I wish I had a broom, so I could sweep him out of my head.

  “What math problem were we on again?” I ask, glancing at his homework.

  “Number four,” he says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nod and look at the problem. “I’m fine. What happened with you and that Sarah girl? Have you gone on a date yet?” I change the subject. I hope it works, and by the subtle sigh and shrug of his shoulders, I know it did.

  “I don’t know if anything’s going to happen, really,” he says, his tone somber.

  I frown at his what-can-you-do shrug. “That’s sad to hear. I thought you two were cute together.” I smile, and he does the same.

  “Maybe, but I didn’t see anything there,” he tells me, and I nod. “What about you? Have you found a guy you like?” His tone is teasing.

  “No,” I answer with a strange pause. Why did I pause? I shake my head and offer him a small smile. “I want to focus on my studies, meaning no boys allowed.” I laugh.

  “That’s too bad,” he says, and when I lift a questioning eyebrow, he explains. “Having someone close to you while you’re here wouldn’t be the worst thing. He could relieve the stress from your shoulders. It wouldn’t mean he’d be the only important thing and you’d just fling your work to the side.”

  I shrug, thinking. “Maybe…but the boys here are too complicated.” Boys? I question myself the moment the words leave my lips. What boys? I only know one, two including Mason, and the other’s a pain in the butt. I shake my head, still wondering what I meant. “They’d just get in the way. And it’s how I am. I focus on one thing or nothing at all.”

  “I get that, but can we backtrack to boys?” he says with a knowing and mortifying smile. I feel my cheeks redden, and I suck in my bottom lip as I look at the math equation before us.

  “Can we get back to the work?” I pick up my pencil, but he takes it from me and chuckles. “Mason, come on. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, I do, because there is something to talk about.”

  “There is this one guy…” I trail off, looking at an empty space on the table. What am I doing? Am I seriously going to admit I feel something for…Grey? That’s insane! “Never mind, there is nothing there because I don’t—there’s nothing there.”

  “Liv…” Mason says.

  “Mason, please. Can we just finish up?” I pick up my phone and curse at the time. It’s 11:34 PM, and there are a lot of questions we still have yet to complete, and tomorrow is the deadline. How could I have let this happen? “Actually, I have to go. I’m sorry.” I stand and begin to pack away my books and pen.

  Mason stands too. “No, it’s fine.” I nod, and he sighs. “I’m sorry, you know, for pushing you just now. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” I lift my head from my planner and frown. I don’t want him to think I don’t want to tell him things. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend; I don’t want to lose him.

  I place a hand on his hand that’s picking up his calculus textbook, and he lifts his eyes with a subtle smile.

  “I didn’t say anything because there is nothing to say.” I remove my hand and shrug as I place my planner in my bag. “The guy’s my partner for an assignment. I think having to spend time with him is messing with my mind or something.” I hope that’s the case.

  “Understandable, but who’s the guy?” He sounds genuinely curious.

  I hesitate to answer. But there shouldn’t be any hesitance, because I’m right. I’m only thinking there’s something between Grey because he has made it his mission to always be there, close to me—maddening maybe—but there nonetheless. And it’s this damned project’s fault. I will not allow this to turn into a cliché romance novel where we hate each other then miraculously fall in love. That’s not how this story will go, because there isn’t one.

  “Grey,” I say with a projected sigh.

  Mason’s head flashes up, and his face turns cold, liveliness fleeting his eyes. “You mean, Grey Wyler?” I think that’s his last name, but how many Greys can there be at this campus or out in the world really? It’s quite a unique name.

  I nod, pretty sure we’re talking about the same guy. “Yes, why? Worried he’ll corrupt me or something?” I laugh and sling my backpack over my shoulders. His face is still fallen. “What’s wrong?” I’m getting really concerned.

  He shakes his head and quickly dashes his tongue between his lips. “Nothing, it’s just…he’s a really bad guy with a fucked-up past.” He looks like he’s travelled to the past, but it vanishes as soon as it arrived, and he looks up at me. “Just be careful with him. I don’t trust him, not after—” He stops himself and curses. “Just be careful. Promise me you will.”

  “Okay, I promise.”

  Now I’m really worried. I knew he was guarded with a rough past and a rough present with his fighting and all, but what could he have done that was so horrible that Mason would warn me about him?

  I leave the library with an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I try to calm myself and remind myself that Grey’s just a little eccentric and not a murderer. But nothing helps the question burning in my brain: what happened in his past?

  ***

  I’m in the middle of falling asleep when a knock sounds through the room. I get up and pad over to the door, cautious and confused. Julia told me she was spending the night with Jaimie. Could she have forgotten something or lost her key? Or is it a serial killer on the loose?

  I freeze at the terrifying thought. Or I fell asleep watching a horror movie while trying to finish the questions without the help of my ever-helpful partner, note the sarcasm. I shrug and open the door; if it’s a murderer, maybe he’ll help me with the assignment? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s more help than Grey.

  The door opens and reveals the devil himself. Grey.

  “May I come in?” He’s leaning against the doorframe with a crooked smile.

  “Mmm…no.” I try to shut the door, but he quickly places his foot in the way. Only a sliver of his face is visible, and I presume the rest is as smug. “Please remove your foot.”

  “Your hair is down,” he says, disregarding my polite request. He reaches a hand in the two-inch crack and twirls a piece of my hair between his fingers, a smile sloping on his face. “You look so much like a princess…”

  I smack his hand away, and he huffs out and smiles. “Don’t touch me and remove your foot.”

  “And if I don’t?” He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow as if to challenge me. I’m tired and upset, and I just want to go to sleep. Why must he be so irritating all the time?

  “I’ll call the RA,” I threaten with a smile of my own.

  He shrugs, crossing his arms. “Call him. I’d love to make a fight and embarrass you in the middle of the night.” I hate him.

  I reluctantly open the door and point a finger at him. “If you pass a certain level of aggravation, I will not hesitate to literally kick you out. No matter what it takes,” I tell him seriously.

  He smiles like a clown. “You’re cute when you try to be all bad and tough.” He steps inside, and I step back like I just made the mistake of inviting in a wicked vampire. His black eyes glisten with danger as he drawls, “But don’t try too much or I won’t be able to outshine you. Stick to being good and prude-y, m’kay?” He winks at me and falls onto my bed like he owns the place.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask, feeling my blood pressure begin to rise already—he’s only been here for twenty seconds.

  He shrugs coolly and sits up on the bed, leaning against the wall. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “You don’t live in the neighborhood.”

  He quirks up an eyebrow. “How do you know where I live?”

 
I fidget on my feet, keeping my stance against him strong. “I asked Julia. I thought since you were skipping class and ignoring my calls and texts, I could stop by your dorm and demand you help me finish our assignment.” But he doesn’t live in a dorm; he lives in some apartment or half-house, Julia didn’t specify.

  “Smart girl,” he says.

  “Thank you.” I walk over to my bag laying on the floor. “Want to tell me why you’re really here?” I ask as I pull out the purple spiral notebook.

  I honestly don’t care why he showed up at my dorm room at one in the morning; I’m only interested in finishing this Godforsaken project and continuing my academic career without him getting in the way. I’m still upset about Monday.

  I turn around and sit in my desk chair. He watches me intently, but I ignore him and click the pen, opening the book to the last page we left off.

  “I really was in the neighborhood.” My face must reveal my obvious doubt, because he chuckles and adds, “Believe me or not, I don’t care.”

  “Mind sharing why exactly you were out roaming the campus at one in the morning?” I hold my pen to the paper, ready to write. Maybe I can get a good insight of his mind; he’s a really complex character.

  He narrows his eyes. “Don’t think I can’t see you ready to write an exposé on me.”

  “I just want to complete this assignment, Grey,” I say, exhausted. “I’m tired of saying that. So can you please answer these next few questions with honesty and haste?”

  “Fine,” he says, and in the moonlight pouring through the blinds, I can see his jaw rocking back and forth, a tick I picked up, telling when he’s worked up. All I did was suggest we finally burn this bridge between us. What’s his problem?

  “Good,” I say, looking at the paper then back at him. “What was the reason that made you leave the cliff so abruptly yesterday?” I regret the question as soon as it leaves my lips. I did not mean to ask that. I was going to ask him about his aspiration career-wise. How did that get molded into what I just sputtered?