Page 67 of Brutal Lies
Chapter 34
Astrid
Study group in the library is so brain-bendingly boring that it shuts my mind down. There’s so much I have to learn to pass class, and it’s not just memorizing shit. I have to know it. I sigh and stare out the library window as Bobby patiently explains to Gillian how the three major theories of economics work again. She’s not an academic, and that’s too bad as my ass goes numb in my chair, listening to this shit one more time.
My phone chimes, and this time, I’m not polite. I whip it out of my bag and check the screen.
Nova: At eight. Same place.
What the fuck? Is the fight club on? I glance over as Bobby makes an exasperated face, and Gillian looks helplessly at her tablet. He explains it all over again in a monotone, and she looks ready to cry. I tap out a quick message as their attention is elsewhere.
Astrid: Are we meeting tonight?
I watch my phone eagerly, waiting for a reply. It doesn’t come quickly. And when it finally does, I have to read it twice.
Nova: Sorry. My mistake.
What does that even mean? I know what it means. It means I’m getting frozen out. I look over at Gillian, who is definitely on the verge of tears. I want to talk to Nova, but I can’t do it here.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, but they’re barely listening. “I have to go use the bathroom.” I head toward the elevators as my shoes click across the tile. It sounds like I’m playing a snare drum. I get into the elevator, and without thinking, I push the button for the fourth floor.
Astrid: Pick up. I’m calling.
Nova: Later, I’m in class.
Astrid: Seriously?
Nova: We have a quiz.
The Monarchs are shutting me out. That message has to be about a fight club tonight, but obviously, I’m not expected to show up ever again. I glare at the elevator until the matte metal doors part and the stacks are in view. I step out with a quick step, my heels clicking against the vinyl floor. I just want a couple of minutes alone before I go back downstairs to that slow, tedious torture.
I like Gillian, but watching her struggle to learn something that she can’t understand is slowly sucking the will to live out of my veins.
I walk toward the girls’ bathroom, wishing I had bummed a cigarette first, or even better, a gummy, when I see Pierce standing by himself in the stacks.
He’s all the way far down one of the rows and pressed up against the books. His chin rests on a shelf, but I recognize his hair. He’s moving his hips slowly, and holy fuck, is his hand down his pants?
I smirk as my hand rests on my phone in my jacket pocket. I won’t do it, but I want to see Pierce’s face when he knows I’ve caught him.