Chapter 8: Cracks in the Glass

Delaney

By Friday morning, I had come to three conclusions about my new friends.

One, Harper Ellis had apparently decided I was her new favorite person.

Two, the guys were weirdly obsessed with making sure I ate enough food to feed a small army.

And three, Rhys genuinely needed to get laid.

Seriously. That man was permanently pissed off. I wasn't sure I'd seen him smile even once, not even when Jett accidentally dumped an entire iced coffee down the front of his pants yesterday. Which, for the record, had been fucking hilarious.

I'd laughed so hard I nearly slid out of my chair. Rhys had simply stared at Jett, handed him a stack of napkins, and told him he was an idiot.

Honestly, I was starting to like these people, which was terrifying. Liking people meant eventually trusting them, and trusting people had never worked out well for me.

Still, I couldn't deny the last few days had been nice. Different.

Harper texted me every morning. Naomi had helped me organize my assignments after hearing about my mysterious forty eight hour disappearance. Callan had appointed himself my personal coffee supplier. And Kellan kept appearing, outside my classes, near the library, occasionally outside my dorm, always with an excuse that sounded suspiciously rehearsed. I hadn't decided whether he was protective, controlling, or just terrible at flirting.

Possibly all three.

"Laney!"

I looked up from my phone. Harper was bouncing toward me across the courtyard in ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a pink sweatshirt that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Naomi walked beside her, looking significantly less caffeinated.

"Morning," I said.

Harper threw an arm around my shoulders. "Guess what?"

"You're pregnant?"

She stopped dead. Naomi choked on her coffee.

"What?"

"You said guess."

Harper stared at me, then burst out laughing. "Oh my God. No!"

"Congratulations on your lack of pregnancy."

Naomi shook her head. "I'm beginning to understand why you two get along."

"Because we're delightful?" Harper offered.

"Because you're both exhausting."

I grinned. Harper stuck her tongue out at Naomi, then turned back to me. "We're having a movie night tomorrow. At our house."

I blinked. "Your house?"

"Well, technically Darian handles most of the bills, but we all live there."

I stopped walking. "Wait. All seven of you live together?"

"Yep!"

"Five guys and two girls?"

"Very impressive counting skills."

"Are you all dating each other?"

Naomi laughed. Harper nearly tripped over her own feet. "WHAT?"

I shrugged. "I'm just asking! You're ridiculously attractive, weirdly attached to each other, and apparently incapable of going anywhere alone."

Naomi smiled. "Darian and I are together."

"Okay. That explains some things."

"Harper and Jett have a complicated situation," she added.

Harper groaned. "We do not."

"Really? You were wearing his sweatshirt yesterday."

"He has comfortable sweatshirts!"

I snorted. Oh, this was going to be fun. "What about the others?"

"Single," Harper said immediately.

A little too immediately. I looked at her. She smiled innocently.

"Interesting."

"Very," Naomi agreed.

Harper shot her a glare, and I laughed.

For the first time since arriving at Greyhaven, I felt like a normal college student. I had friends. Plans. People who actually wanted me around. And an invitation to spend Saturday night in a house full of attractive seniors.

My life was turning into a badly written romance novel.

I wasn't complaining.

We reached the humanities building a few minutes later. My next class was forty minutes away, so Harper suggested grabbing something from the little café near the lecture halls. My stomach agreed, loudly.

"Oh, sweetheart," Harper said.

"Don't start."

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"Yes. Eggs, toast, bacon, and a breakfast sandwich."

Naomi looked at me. "All of that?"

I frowned. "What?"

"Nothing."

She traded a glance with Harper. It was quick, barely noticeable, but I'd started to recognize those looks. My new friends did it constantly. They'd look at me, then at each other, then suddenly change the subject. It was annoying as hell.

I stopped outside the café. "Okay. Seriously. What's going on?"

Harper blinked. "What?"

"That. The weird eye thing. You keep looking at each other like you're having a secret conversation."

"Maybe we're telepathic."

I stared at her. She smiled.

I narrowed my eyes. "You're weird."

"Thank you!"

I sighed. "Whatever. I need to pee."

"Me too!" Harper announced.

Naomi checked her phone. "I need to call Darian. I'll meet you inside."

Harper linked her arm through mine. "Bathroom adventure!"

"Please never call it that again."

She laughed and pulled me down the hallway.

The humanities building was old. Not charming old. More like someone should probably inspect the wiring before the whole place caught fire old. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the long hallway smelled of floor cleaner and ancient textbooks. A row of metal lockers ran along one wall, and tall windows looked out over the courtyard on the other.

Harper was telling me about a disastrous date from last semester when a familiar voice cut in.

"Well, look who it is."

My whole body went still. Oh, for fuck's sake. Not today.

I turned. Camille stood near the lockers with two girls I didn't recognize, wearing a fitted white sweater, expensive jeans, and the same smug expression she'd perfected in high school. Her gaze slid from me to Harper and back.

"Wow, Delaney. You actually made a friend."

Harper stopped walking. I closed my eyes. Please. Just once, could the universe let me exist without this bitch appearing?

"Hi, Camille," I said evenly.

"Hi!"

Harper looked between us. "Friend of yours?"

"Absolutely not."

Camille laughed. "Oh, don't be like that. We've known each other forever."

"Unfortunately."

One of the girls beside her snickered, and Camille's expression tightened. She turned to Harper. "I'm Camille."

Harper smiled, the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. "Congratulations."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Oh, God. I liked this girl.

Camille blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Harper started walking again. "Come on, Laney. I really have to pee."

I followed. Unfortunately, Camille wasn't finished.

"Does she know about your parents?"

My steps slowed. Of course. 

Harper stopped beside me. "What about her parents?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

Camille smiled. "Oh, it's not nothing."

I turned to face her. "Don't."

Camille ignored it.

"Delaney had a really interesting home life. Her dad was always yelling at her. Sometimes you could hear him from outside the house."

My stomach twisted. One of Camille's friends shifted uncomfortably. I kept my face blank. "Camille."

"And her mom wasn't much better."

"Stop."

She tilted her head. "What? I'm just telling your new friend about you."

Something hot rolled through my chest. I recognized it at once. It was like anger had grown a body inside me, something restless, something trying to claw its way out.

I swallowed. Not here. Not now.

"Come on, Harper."

I reached for her arm. Camille stepped forward.

"Did you tell her about the night your dad came looking for you at school?"

My breath caught. No. Not that. Anything but that.

I remembered hiding in the girls' bathroom. I remembered the principal telling me I couldn't stay there forever. I remembered my father's truck idling outside, patient as a predator. I shoved the memories down hard.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Camille laughed. "Oh please. Everybody knew."

The fluorescent lights buzzed louder. I glanced up. One flickered, then another. Great. Perfect timing. A dull ache bloomed behind my eyes.

"Camille," Harper said. Her voice had changed. The bubbly girl from five minutes ago was gone. "Walk away."

Camille looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Someone who's getting tired of watching you embarrass yourself."

Camille's cheeks flushed red.

I should have enjoyed that. Normally I would have. But something was wrong.

The hallway had grown unnaturally loud. I could hear footsteps in the stairwell, someone laughing behind a closed classroom door, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere down the corridor. Every tiny sound pressed against my skull. My heart pounded. My palms burned. I clenched my fists.

Calm down. Just calm down.

A sharp metallic bang echoed down the hall, and everyone jumped. One of the lockers had slammed shut. I turned toward it. Nobody stood anywhere near it.

Weird.

A second locker rattled. Then a third. Harper's head snapped toward the sound. "What the hell?"

Camille looked around. "Is someone messing with us?"

Another bang. The locker directly behind her slammed so violently that she screamed. I flinched.

Pressure squeezed my chest and built behind my eyes, and I couldn't explain it, couldn't understand it. All I knew was that I was furious. Furious at Camille. Furious at my parents. Furious that I'd traveled hundreds of miles to escape everything, only to have my past follow me through the door.

And underneath that fury lived something else. Something almost eager.

I shook my head. No. I didn't know what that meant, and I didn't want to.

"Delaney?"

Harper's voice sounded far away. I looked at her. She wasn't watching Camille. She was watching me.

"Are you okay?"

I opened my mouth, and a sharp crack split the air.

CRACK.

One of the tall hallway windows fractured. A thin line shot across the glass, then another, then another, until delicate cracks spread outward like a spiderweb.

Camille screamed again. "What the fuck?!"

Her friends scrambled back. I stared at the window, and my stomach dropped. Had something hit it? I looked outside. No rocks. No birds. Nobody close enough to have done it.

Another locker slammed. Then two more, BANG, BANG, so loud it shook my teeth. I clapped my hands over my ears.

"Make it stop," I whispered.

Harper caught my wrist. Not tightly, just enough to get my attention. "Delaney. Look at me."

I tried. The lights flickered again. My pulse thundered.

"Delaney."

Something in her voice cut through the noise. Firm. Steady. Almost commanding.

"Come with me."

She pulled me away from Camille, and I stumbled after her. The moment we passed through the double doors at the end of the hall, the pressure in my chest began to ease. My breathing slowed. The ringing in my ears faded. Behind us, everything went quiet.

Harper didn't stop until we reached an empty stairwell. Then she turned to face me. "Hey."

"What the fuck was that?"

She swallowed. "I don't know."

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. "Those lockers..."

"Probably some idiot messing around."

"And the window?"

"Old building."

"Harper."

She sighed. "Delaney, buildings make weird noises."

"Windows don't just crack!"

She didn't answer right away. Instead she dug into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water. "Here."

"Seriously?"

"Drink."

"Harper..."

"Please."

Something in her expression made me stop arguing. I took the bottle, and my hands trembled as I twisted off the cap. The water was cold and wonderful. I drank nearly half before lowering it.

Harper watched me carefully. "Better?"

I considered. Actually, yes. The headache was fading. The heat in my chest had gone. I felt strangely wrung out, but otherwise normal.

"I guess."

"Good."

I leaned against the wall. For several seconds neither of us spoke. Then I looked at her. "I'm sorry."

She frowned. "For what?"

"Camille."

"Why are you apologizing for her being a bitch?"

I laughed weakly. "Because she ruined our morning."

"No. She ruined her own morning."

"Harper."

"Laney."

I looked up.

Her expression had softened. "You don't have to apologize for what other people do."

Something tightened in my throat, and I looked away. God. Why did people being kind to me always make me want to cry? It was embarrassing. Pathetic, honestly.

Harper stepped closer. "Hey. Whatever happened with your parents, you don't have to tell me. But if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."

I stared at her. For a moment I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Then I gave her a small smile. "Thanks."

She grinned. "Anytime."

A second later she glanced at her phone. "Oh shit."

"What?"

"We're going to be late."

I blinked. Then I remembered why we'd come in here at all. "The bathroom!"

Harper stared at me. I stared back. Then we both burst out laughing, loud and helpless, the sound bouncing around the empty stairwell.

By the time we finally reached the café, Naomi was waiting outside. She took one look at us and frowned. "What happened?"

"Camille," Harper said.

Naomi's face hardened. "Again?"

I groaned. "Please don't make it a thing."

"Too late," Harper muttered.

Naomi studied my face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced. I was beginning to hate that look. Everyone kept watching me like I was one strong breeze away from collapsing.

"I'm serious. I'm fine."

My stomach growled. Loudly.

Harper's eyes widened, and then she laughed. "Okay. Food first."

"Thank God."

Inside, I ordered a breakfast sandwich, a cinnamon roll, and another coffee. Naomi paid before I could even pull out my card. I stared at her. "Seriously?"

She shrugged. "My treat."

"Do you people ever let anyone buy their own food?"

Harper grinned. "Not if we like them."

I shook my head. "You guys are ridiculous."

"Adorably ridiculous," Harper corrected.

I smiled, and for a few minutes everything felt normal again.

Until we sat down. Naomi was asking about my classes when I noticed someone standing outside the café windows. Kellan.

He was talking to Darian, and both of them looked serious. Very serious.

Then Harper's phone buzzed. She glanced down, and her smile disappeared. A second later Naomi's phone buzzed too. She read the message, then looked toward the windows. I followed her gaze.

Kellan was staring right at me. Again.

I sighed. "Okay, seriously. Does that guy ever stop looking at people like he's planning their murder?"

Harper laughed, but it sounded forced.

Naomi slipped her phone into her pocket. "He's just protective."

"Of what? The entire student population?"

Neither of them answered.

I took a bite of my sandwich. Whatever. I wasn't spending another day worrying about mysterious seniors and their strange behavior. I'd had enough excitement for one morning.

Then I glanced at the windows again. Kellan was still watching me. But this time, I noticed something different.

He wasn't smiling. He wasn't annoyed.

He looked worried.