Ice Tyrant’s Obsession

8: Public Humiliation 101.

~~LOLA~~

If I’d been told twenty-four hours earlier that I’d spend ten minutes googling “How to delete oneself from existence,” I would have probably side-eyed that person with concern.

Turns out kissing my supposed stepbrother had that much effect on me. Google, however, had been spectacularly unhelpful. Apparently, I was supposed to contact a crisis hotline for help. I wasn't trying to end my life; I’d just been simply looking for ways to erase the last twelve hours of my life from human history.

Meeting his girlfriend had also confirmed one thing—whatever weirdness had happened between us needed to stay buried.

I was already humiliated enough.

Now it was a Monday morning—the beginning of my fourth week at Stratton University as a transfer student, and the consequences of that disastrous weekend loomed above me.

“Miss Hart, unfortunately, the dorm spaces are filled. You’ve been placed on the waiting list until at least after summer break.”

Spell Doom without actually spelling Doom.

The office space seemed to shrink on me as I sat frozen in the chair, my expression crumpling in defeat.

Apart from badly needing to avoid the Vaughn Brothers, Dane especially, I also couldn't endure commuting 40 minutes every day to school for the next two months.

“Thank you,” I said, wearing a shaky smile as I slung my backpack over my shoulder and made my way out of the housing office.

This was beginning to get exhausting. This new state, the school, mom’s new family. Even the heavy weight of rejection and heartache was still sitting like a brick in my chest. I just wanted to be far away, invisible… get buried in school work.

There was this feeling of being an outsider in a place where most of the people already had a life going on for themselves. And there was me, still many steps behind, still stuck on housing issues and trying to find a stable ground late into the academic session.

My phone chimed with a text from Sam. I slowed my pace and tapped the notification.

She’d sent a photo of her high school ballet studio. She was in front of a mirror in her practice clothes, her hair secured in a messy bun, white ballet slippers laced neatly around her ankles as she flashed a peace sign.

A smile broke out on my lips.

At least someone was having fun.

“Excuse me!”

I barely even turned around to see who it was before someone crashed into me. Gravity tipped my balance and I crashed to the ground, hitting my butt hard. A sharp wince crossed my face and God help me if my pelvic bone didn't snap.

I think I snapped a wrist.

“Oh god! Are you okay? I’m really sorry.” A shrill female voice erupted.

She was on me in the same beat, taking my arms to help me up. Tears stung the edges of my eyes as I closed them for a brief second, exhaling hard. My breath quaked.

There were lots of eyes already on us— on me.

I even heard the shutter sound of a camera.

“What’s Monday without a bit of disaster?” someone voiced, probably the person who was taking pictures.

I pushed aside the curtain of hair covering my face as I pulled away from the girl who’d sent me to the ground.

“I’m so sorry.” Her apology came again.

“I’m fine.” No I wasn't. A tear hit my cheek and I quickly wiped it off, my skin burning hot.

She bent down and gathered her scattered things, stuffing them back into her bag before looking up at me with concern.

I was glancing down at my phone to check for cracks, thankfully there were none but a tear suddenly dropped on the screen, then another.

I sniffed hard and turned the device away but she already saw.

“I feel so terrible.” She lamented. “Do you need help to the health centre?”

She tried to touch me again, all the while I had my eyes planted down on the ground. I flinched back.

“I said I am fine!” I snapped, my voice carrying harshly through the air.

I knew I was going to feel bad once I relaxed later but for now, I just really wanted to disappear from here.

My waist burned with an ache, and my wrist was just as bad.

I hated Stratton already and I think I hated my life more.

I couldn't even run from the scene, I just carefully walked away. Taking my steps one at a time.

The health center was just across the campus. It took me about fifteen minutes to get there but not without walking awkwardly.

The place wasn't buzzing with people as I’d imagined. Which was perfect, as I couldn't deal with any more embarrassing glares.

“Your name.” The nurse at the front desk asked.

“Lola,” I replied, submitting my student ID. “I fell outside the housing office.”

“Please have your seat and wait.” She gestured to the waiting area.

I wasn't even sure if I could sit. I just stood, leaning against a wall and breathing through my nostrils. My pain tolerance level was really low. It felt like I was being wrung out.

About fifteen minutes later I was called into the exam room. It was a small space with a bed and a sharp sterile smell of disinfectant hanging in the air.

I carefully propped myself down onto the bed, as a sting spread out from my tailbone to my glutes.

I recounted my situation to the nurse, omitting the part that someone had actually knocked me down and I’d fallen like there was no stamina to my weight.

She asked a few questions, penning down my faint answers onto her clipboard.

“What’s the pain level on a scale of ten?”

“Probably a ten?” I chewed on my bottom lip.

“You walked here?” She glanced at her chart and back at me.

“I tried.”

She made me walk a few steps, point to wherever I was aching, and move my reddened wrist, which sent a mild pain into my bone—It was just basically ensuring there was nothing extremely serious going on.

My wrist was wrapped in an elastic wrist brace.

“Avoid strenuous activities this week, take it easy.”

Like my life itself was easy? I sighed, “Thanks.”

She handed me ice packs, pain relief meds, and an excuse note from my classes for the day.

I got up quietly and walked towards the exit. The minute I pulled the curtain apart, I nearly screamed at the sight of the person standing there.

I slowly looked up and up again until our eyes met.

“W…What are you doing here?” I stuttered.

Hockey guy—No, Dane—was right there. A six-foot-four wall in flared joggers and a large t-shirt hugging his broad frame.

My heart snagged.

Why did he look so dressed up without actually looking like he’d tried too hard? His expression hardened with displeasure as he glanced all over me.

I didn't wait for a response. I just sidestepped him and started walking away, trying hard not to limp awkwardly as I kept a steady pace.

If I could, I would have run.

He followed, almost soundlessly. Watching me.

If only this day could just end already.

As soon as I got outside the building, my arm got caught and I was pulled back. I stilled as he turned me around to face him.

He lifted my braced wrist to his face, his eyes burning with anger in them. “Where is she?” he demanded.

“Who…” I fretted. “Where’s who?”

“The girl who did this to you.”

My heart dipped that minute as fear gripped me. I snapped away from him and staggered back despite the pain radiating through me.

“Are you a stalker now?”

“I would have loved stalking you, sweetheart.” His jaw flexed once.

I almost hiccupped at that but I quickly placed a palm over my mouth.

I knew exactly what he was going to say next. After I’d fallen there was someone taking pictures and probably videos of me. So he was going to say there was a video of that humiliating moment flying around campus and I was currently being laughed at.

“Don’t say it.” My voice was almost a plea.

I was trying to hold on to dignity before his eyes, if I still had any left.

I was also quite familiar with this exact scenario in high school, unfortunately, colleges were no different.

Just a bunch of same big bullies who derived joy in watching other people suffer.

He raised his hands in surrender, taking a step closer. “I won’t.”

My lips trembled beneath the palm I had over them, my eyes welling with unshed tears.

“I fixed it,” he added. “And you don't have to worry about seeing it either.”