Polar Opposites

Chapter 7 ~ Pale

{Grace’s POV}

I grabbed my bag, my phone, my composure— what remained of it, and practically launched myself out of the apartment.

Which was difficult because Montclair University apparently believed in hills.

Everything here involved stairs.

Or slopes.

Or death.

By the time I reached campus, I was already sweating, stressed and mentally unavailable.

And somehow?

My day still got worse.

It started with me entering the wrong lecture hall. Not slightly wrong.

Catastrophically wrong.

I sat through seven full minutes of Advanced Mechanical Engineering before realizing two things:

One: I did not fit into the crowd.

And two: there was absolutely no universe where I should’ve been hearing phrases like rotational torque coefficient before nine in the morning.

The professor eventually paused mid-sentence and stared directly at me.

Then at my notebook.

Then back at me.

“Miss,” he said carefully. “Are you lost?”

I looked around slowly at the sea of students already staring.

“…possibly.”

That was just the beginning.

After that came: getting sent across campus for transfer verification. Standing in the wrong line for twenty minutes and accidentally taking someone else’s iced coffee. Apologizing to a mannequin because I thought it was a real person after smashing into it.

Nearly falling down library stairs.

Forgetting my student ID in a printer tray

And getting displaced by campus maps.

Montclair was huge.

Not regular huge but movie huge where every building looked important enough to hold government secrets.

And everybody here walked fast, all with purpose and destinations.

Meanwhile I almost got hit by a bicycle because I stopped to stare at a fountain.

In my defense, it was a beautiful fountain.

Sofia found me around lunchtime sitting outside the humanities building eating fries like I’d survived warfare.

“How’s your first official day?” she asked fakely.

I stared into the distance.

“I think this school is trying to kill me.”

She sat beside me immediately. “Okay forget school. Tell me everything. I’ve been calling and texting you didn’t answer any.”

Her real reason.

“No.”

“C’mon. How was last night?”

“Traumatizing.”

“You slept in the same apartment as Damian Reyes!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Yes and unfortunately he survived.”

Sofia gasped. “Grace.”

“I’m serious. He’s horrible.”

“Did you two fight again?”

I shoved fries into my mouth aggressively.

“That depends on your definition of fight.”

Her eyes widened instantly. “YOU DID.”

“He smoked in the kitchen.”

“You challenged him over a cigarette?”

“He challenged ME first by behaving incorrectly.”

Sofia gave signature look of disbelief.

“Grace,” she whispered. “You need survival instincts.”

“I have survival instincts.”

“You can’t be in his apartment and be arguing with him.”

“He’s annoying,” I muttered, tired.

Annoyingly nonchalant and calm.

Annoyingly attractive and—

No.

We reject those thoughts. Immediately.

Sofia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why are you making that face?”

“What face?”

“That face people make when they are thinking about something steamy.”

What?

“I’m literally eating fries.”

“That has never stopped anybody.”

Unfortunately she had a point. But no.

The rest of the day passed in chaotic flashes.

Professors. Forms. Loud classrooms.

And more Confusion.

At one point I walked into the wrong seminar and accidentally stayed long enough to participate in a discussion about capitalism.

I still don’t know how that happened.

By evening, my brain felt boiled.

Sofia kept texting me dramatic messages every twenty minutes:

Are you still alive?

Has he murdered you?

Please let me follow you home for safety purposes.

I ignored her and kept pushing through my day. And eventually, after what felt like twelve business years, I finally got into a cab and headed back toward the apartment.

The walk from the stop felt quieter now.

The sky had deepened into soft evening blues. Campus lights glowed warmly across the sidewalks. Students laughed somewhere in the distance while music drifted faintly through the air.

For the first time all day, things felt calm.

I reached the apartment building, unlocked the door and stepped inside carefully.

Silence.

I immediately relaxed.

No Damian.

No smoke.

And no composure-damaging eye contact.

Just peace.

Beautiful peace.

I kicked my shoes off near the entrance and nearly cried from relief.

“Finally.”

The apartment felt softer without him in it.

Still expensively intimidating. But quieter.

I showered quickly, changed into oversized sleep shorts and one of my old hoodies, then poured myself a large bowl of fruitloops while standing in the kitchen.

Dinner of champions.

Or exhausted transfer students on the verge of collapse.

Afterward I dragged myself back to my room with my laptop and attempted to review lecture notes from earlier.

Attempted being the key word.

I read the same paragraph four times before realizing none of the information had entered my brain.

Not one sentence.

My neurons had apparently unionized.

I closed the laptop. “Yeah. We’re done here.”

I checked the time. It was really late and still no Damian.

Not that I cared.

Obviously.

I just… noticed.

That’s all.

I turned off the lamp beside my bed and settled beneath the blanket with a tired groan.

The room fell dark and quiet and for while, sleep almost came easily. Then… a car door slammed outside.

My eyes opened instantly.

A few seconds later, the apartment door opened downstairs and there were voices. Low and muffled after which movement followed.

I stayed still beneath the blanket knowing it was Damien. He had arrived this late last night. It was probably his routine.

I heard another voice then. Male.

It spoke quietly and then I heard a heavy dragging sound to which I frowned slightly.

Were they carrying something?

I sat up slowly. Curiosity was a disease, but then I also needed a glass of water, so I slipped out of bed carefully and cracked my door open.

The apartment downstairs remained dimly lit, shadows stretching softly across the living room.

Near the entrance, I spotted Damian immediately. Or more accurately— I recognized him immediately.

Which irritated me for reasons I refused to unpack.

I couldn’t clearly see his face from here because of the darkness, but his physique alone gave him away.

Nobody else in the world should legally be allowed to look that annoyingly identifiable from silhouette alone.

Another guy stood beside him. Tall too and in dark clothes, and together they carried a large black bag between them.

Long. Heavy-looking.

I paused and my sleepy brain immediately tried making sense of it.

Sports equipment maybe?

Or— Wait.

It kind of looked like one of those instrument bags. A piano?

Actually no.

That was stupid.

Who carried pianos around at midnight?

But maybe Damian had suddenly decided to become cultured.

Honestly?

That would improve his personality tremendously.

The two of them spoke quietly while moving farther into the apartment. I couldn’t hear the words. Just low muttering.

Then Damian disappeared briefly down another hallway while the other guy remained near the entrance.

I stared another second before catching myself.

Not my business.

Absolutely not my business.

Whatever weird rich-athlete midnight activities this was, I wanted no involvement.

I continued toward the kitchen instead.

Water first. Questions never.

I grabbed a glass and filled it quickly before drinking almost the entire thing in one go.

Good Lord. I really had been thirsty.

I poured another.

Then another sip after that because apparently my organs had been suffering in silence.

After setting the empty glass down, I glanced back toward the living room.

Everything looked quiet now.

Good.

They’d finished carrying whatever that thing was and making noise.

Peace.

I turned and started back toward my room. The apartment remained dim enough that most things were outlines and shadows.

I barely saw the object of my downfall before my foot slammed directly into it.

Then gravity betrayed me violently.

Then… I crashed forward with a strangled sound, my shoulder hitting the floor hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

Pain exploded through my arm instantly and I rolled onto my back groaning.

“Oh my God…”

My shoulder throbbed immediately. I pushed myself upright slowly, and saw the black bag.

The same one.

Now lying directly in the middle of the walkway.

You have got to be kidding me.

I looked around furiously.

No Damian. No creepy midnight companion.

The faint glow of headlights still stretched through the front windows. Maybe they’d gone back outside.

Good.

Because right now I genuinely wanted to fight somebody.

“What kind of psychopath leaves giant bags in walkways?” I hissed.

My shoulder still hurt, and then, out of pure irritation, I kicked the bag.

Instant regret.

Pain shot through my foot immediately. I gasped and grabbed my leg dramatically.

“Okay. You win.” I groaned.

The bag didn’t move with the impact. Not even slightly.

I frowned.

What the hell was inside this thing?

Bricks?

A refrigerator?

I bent down and grabbed one of the straps angrily. Then pulled in my attempt to shift it away from the road.

Nothing.

Not even a tiny shift.

My eyebrows further pulled together, suspicion joining irritation.

What exactly is in this thing?

I stared at the zipper, then sighed heavily.

“If there’s a piano in here,” I muttered, “I’m calling the police for stupidity.”

I crouched lower and slowly pulled the zipper open. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet apartment.

A few inches opened as dark fabric shifted slightly inside.

I frowned, and pulled farther… then something pale appeared beneath the shadows.

For one confused second, my brain refused to process what I was seeing.

Fabric.

Hair.

Skin.

My entire body went cold just then.

Wait— no.

The zipper slipped farther open, and this time I saw it clearly.

An arm.

Human.

A girl’s arm.

My breath stopped completely.

Everything inside me dropped violently.

I stumbled backward so fast my hands slipped against the floor.

Because inside the bag— was a body…