After College Starts, Calling Kills Me

Chapter 4

I pretended not to notice and went out to the balcony to bring in the laundry.

When I came back, Iris stopped me. "Vivienne, my water bottle is empty. Could you fill it up for me?"

She held out her bottle.

I took it and walked toward the water dispenser.

My hand stopped on the tap.

I thought of the third life. The strange taste in my cup. Iris's cup. Iris asking me to fill it.

If there was something wrong with the water, I would be the one who poured it. Iris would be the one poisoned. But I would be the one who had touched the cup.

I walked back to the room and set it on the desk. "I'm not feeling well all of a sudden. Fill it yourself."

Iris looked at me, her expression perfectly calm.

Sloane laughed from the side. "Vivienne, you won't even pour someone a cup of water now?"

Celeste leaned down from the upper bunk. "That's just how she is. You didn't know?"

I said nothing, climbed into bed, and lay facing the wall.

Late that night, I heard rustling sounds, like someone going through my bag. I didn't move, kept my eyes shut, kept my breathing steady.

Footsteps paused at the desk.

Then a very soft sigh, too faint to place.

The next morning, I found that the high school graduation photo in my bag had been disturbed. Someone had dragged a fingernail across my face in the picture.

I knew silence could buy me time, but not forever.

After a month and a half of keeping the balance, the department announced a group assignment. Four people per group, self-selected. Our dorm had exactly four people.

Sloane spoke first. "We should all be in one group, right?"

Celeste nodded. Iris agreed. All three looked at me.

I gave in. "Sure."

When we divided up the work, Sloane volunteered for the survey. Celeste took the interviews. Iris handled the literature review. I was left with the report.

It seemed reasonable enough.

But I noticed something. Sloane was doing the survey, so the data stayed with her. Celeste was doing the interviews, so the raw material stayed with her. Iris was doing the literature review, so the framework stayed with her.

And me? I was writing the report, which meant what I wrote depended entirely on what they chose to give me.

From the moment the work was divided, I could feel the ground shifting.