Chapter 6

I stood in front of the dorm building and shook my body out, hoping it looked like I was just getting ready for a run, and not trying to shake off my anxiety. My palms felt sweaty and my shoes felt too tight to my feet. I was running my finger along the inside of the shoe when the sense of calm that only accompanies one person's physical presence brings me.

Darren pulls me into a hug faster than I can stop him. His chest smells beachy and warm, and the soft cotton of his shirt comforts my face. I have already forgotten everything that has happened and I wrap my arms around him too, sighing as he breathes in my hair. It feels too nice to be held by him, and he has to let go of me.

I look at his running outfit and shake my head to clear out the fog that fills it everytime he smiles at me. We’re here to run and he could be a psychopath.

“Last one to the dining hall has to buy lunch” I say and see a smile take over his face. He was too handsome to make things easy for me.

I immediately take off down the street and turn around to see him standing still, shocked that I would run off. As I run, I think of Rita. I wonder how she would feel if she knew that I was with the person who sent me that note.

I slow a little to allow Darren some hope of catching up to me and to my sorrow, I find him just a few paces behind me. I hadn’t bargained on him being very fast, but he was certainly able to keep up with me.

I made it to the door only a few seconds before him and become even more worried as he slows to a halt right next to me and casually leans against the door, not out of breath in the slightest. I immediately act as though I am not out of shape in the slightest, and feel the tightness in my lungs intensify as I ignore it entirely.

“Shall we?” I say opening the door for him

He gives me a mock irritated face and says “no”

“No?” I question “why not?”

“Because I hold the door for you silly!”

I lift my hands into the air and in response the door closes softly. He makes a big deal out of opening the door and bowing and says “laydies firrrrrrst!” In a trolling British accent. I can’t help but giggle at his silly behavior and walk in. We grab salads from the bar and he pays for my ticket. We sit down together and I chew my lip while he starts shaking his salad together.

I decide to just ask. “Have you been leaving notes for me?” My eyes are locked on his face, I’m analyzing every movement of his jaw, terrified. I refuse to blink as he looks up from the salad into my eyes. His eyes are wide and blue and full of earnestness.

“I have not.” He says clearly, sensing the seriousness of my tone. “Someone has been sending you notes?” He asks.

I tell him about what happened and by the time I’ve finished he looks angry. “They tried to hurt you?” He asks through clenched teeth. I nod, and lean away from the table, away from him. He asks if we can go back to the dorm, he wants to see what they left. I let him know that there isn’t much there but he insists.

We make our way back to the dorm in record time, my salad still uneaten. He starts to snoop around my room as I open my lunch on my bed and begin to eat. He paws through my trash and finds the black rose. He sniffs it and pulls away disgusted, asking me if I have ever heard of halothane.

“It’s an anesthetic, like chloroform,” he tells me “I bet you felt awful when it was in your system, it’s banned in the U.S.”

I think of the swirling unconsciousness that had hung around my brain, so different from the usual sleepy fog in its malicious nature and swallowed.

“Yeah”

How could someone have dosed me with a drug that isn’t even legal in the U.S.? I start to feel hot tears in the back of my eyes and wonder how this is the first time they’ve cropped up since this started. Someone way scarier than I had imagined had left that note.

Darren sees the tears in my eyes and quickly scoops me up before they have a chance to fall. I start to sob into his shirt and he holds me tightly and he sits us down onto the bed. We stay like this for a while, but eventually I stop crying. I apologize for getting his shirt wet and he laughs and says it needed to be washed after the run anyways.

We smile and I ask him if he would like to shower here, I have some of my father’s shorts and t-shirts to sleep in that I offer him. While he showers I decide that I will wash our clothes in the downstairs laundry room. I put on my robe and eat my lunch. When Darren comes out of the shower I can’t help but stare at his unclothed torso.

He looks very different out of his clothes and I find myself distracted by all of the pieces of skin not covered by his towel. His calves are thick and well-toned. His arms are thick too, and as my eyes trace the shape of his chest hair, I find myself following another line of hair leading from his bellybutton, on his flat stomach, lined with muscle that leads below the towel. I desperately wish I could see what was beneath it.

He notices where I’m looking and smiles mischievously. He closes the door behind him and tells me that it’s my turn for a shower.