Owned by the Red Flag

Chapter 4 Episode 4

And that’s enough fuckery for me. I swallow hard and turn to walk away. Surprisingly, he allows me to go, and I rush toward the stacks, thinking I can skirt the other shelf and get back to the main room as fast as possible. What I don't count on is the prick following me. As if he anticipated a chase, he’s hot on my heels, his long legs eating up the distance like it’s nothing.

Run, little flower. Run as fast as you can. I can practically hear his voice in my head. What’s wrong with me?

Iforce my legs to move faster, running deeper into the stacks instead, hoping to fake him out, but he's right there, so close. His breath fans across the back of my neck, tickling, stirring the flyaway hairs and shooting goose bumps down my spine.

Idon't bother looking back as I speak. "Go away, you psycho."

"'Go away, you psycho,'" he mocks. "I think I want that on my tombstone."

Iwalk a little faster. "Keep following me, and I’ll personally make sure it gets done.”

“Which part? The one where you inevitably end up in my bed moaning my name? Or the tombstone?” A soft chuckle reaches my ears. The sound is even more disconcerting than him touching me.

Relief fills my veins when I reach the other side of the stacks. The second I get a foot of distance between us, I take a hard right into the main area and walk straight to my tattered bag. The temptation to turn around and see if he’s still following me throbs at the back of my mind, but I don’t dare feed into his psychotic game. Instead, I continue forward, rushing toward the library doors which lead outside to my escape.

Once the cool fall air brushes my cheeks, I suck a ragged breath into my lungs, letting it clear my senses. What the f**k was that back there? Who the hell was that guy? As the adrenaline wears off, my paranoia spikes.

He made such a big deal about learning my name, but he never told me his…

Ipeer over my shoulder to see if he’s still following me, but there’s no one. I swear I can still hear his laughter behind me as I push forward. f**k. It would be my luck that the second I meet a hot guy, crazy but hot, he'd be an absolute psycho. I’ve been so focused on my studies, taking care of my mom, and helping to make ends meet that dating has been pushed to the back burner entirely. Now, the one time there is interest from someone, it’s some random guy chasing me around the library, ordering me to tell him my name. No, thank you.

Iadjust the strap of my backpack and hustle the rest of the way to my car. Fear makes us do crazy things, and with my mind occupied by that jock and his crazy-as-hell antics, I fail to notice the person coming toward me and bump shoulders with them. It takes a second to steady myself, and I nearly sigh with relief when I recognize her familiar face.

"Jackie, what the hell?"

She lets out a small laugh, rubbing her arm where I hit her. "You plowed into me harder than my last date did. What the hell are you running away from?" She flicks her blond hair over her shoulder, tilting her head at me in question. The sun glints off her high cheekbones, shining across her deep blue eyes, making them glow like sapphires.

Idon’t dare tell her what happened back in the library. Jackie’s the type that would tell me to go back inside and get his number. But I’m still glad to see her. Since day one, we’ve been friends and roommates, and she gives me balance when I need it.

Irisk a glance behind me, then shake my head. “Nothing really, just stayed too long at the library. You know how I get immersed in my studies sometimes.”

She nods and smiles. "Let's get some dinner, and I can share with you the good news I got. I promise, you’ll want to hear it.”

Ishouldn’t, but I take another peek behind me. The feeling of someone watching me lingers at the nape of my neck. When I look back, there are just normal students. No oversized assholes loom in the shadows. Then why do I still feel his eyes on me? I shiver and turn toward my car.

“Oh boy, I’m not sure I want to hear this,” I joke. “Let me drop my bag off in the car, and I’ll come with you.” Her gaze scans my oversized bag.

“Doesn’t that kill your shoulder? I mean, there’s probably at least fifteen or twenty pounds worth of books in there.” She’s wrong, there’s actually twenty-five, but I don’t correct her. I don’t want to make myself look any more of a nerd than I already do.

“It’s easier to do it this way than having to go back and forth to the dorms or back and forth to my car,” I say over my shoulder as I cross the remaining distance to my car. I unlock it and toss the heavy-as-hell bag inside. It lands with a hearty thump, ripping a little more. I sigh. "Oh, by the way, I have to go to my mom's after dinner.”

Jackie frowns, and even though she knows I don’t have an option, I can’t blame her for being sad. We hardly ever hang out anymore, and if we do, it’s only for a few minutes. I’m a terrible friend, I know, but I can’t do s**t about it. Life’s got me in a chokehold I can’t seem to escape.

Her frown gives way to something mischievous, and she rubs her hands together gleefully as I return to her side. We start walking back in the direction of the cafeteria. “Oh good, that means I can bring any guy I want back to the dorm, and we can run around naked, have s*x on the counters, maybe even on your bed too."

Iscowl. "Ew, no, that's unsanitary. I don't want your bare ass or any other bodily fluids on my bedding."

“Oh, come on, Bel! It’s not like your bed is seeing any action.” I know it’s a joke, and she’s playing with me, but it still stings. She realizes her mistake, and her features pinch with remorse. “Okay, that was mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not like it isn’t true.” I shrug, and thankfully, the cafeteria doors come into view. I hate discussing my love life or lack thereof.

“I know, but I also know you’re taking care of your mom, and that’s your main priority right now. There will be plenty of time for men in the future.” She smiles, and I nod, wanting the conversation to end there.

It’s bad enough my mother reminds me almost daily that I should be doing other more productive college kid things instead of taking care of her. I want to be there for my mom, but she insists I focus on my life. Except it achieves the opposite effect she wants—I worry more and more until my mind becomes a web of inescapable, haunting thoughts that I’m not doing enough for her. That I might lose her. I swallow thickly.

The double doors to the cafeteria open, and we’re blasted with warm air as Jackie and I step inside.

The dinner rush is in full swing. The chatter of fellow students and clinking silverware rattles my eardrums. Anxiousness rests deep in my gut. I hate crowds and loud noises. Usually, I come here before lunch or right after dinner to beat the crowds. Mr. Psycho distracted me, and I forgot what time it was. Jackie weaves through the masses, and I follow her closely until we reach the other side of the room where the trays are located.

“Jesus Christ, why are there so many people here today? It’s not even Taco Tuesday.”

Ishrug. “Maybe they’re giving away free food.”

“Unlikely.” Jackie scoffs. “This place is too fancy to give out freebies.”

We stand in line with everyone else and wait our turn to select what we want. The cafeteria serves a combination of both hot food and premade items. I grab a yogurt cup, an egg salad sandwich, and water while Jackie goes for a sub sandwich and a slice of pizza.

“Don’t you dare judge me.” She grins when I give her a raised eyebrow.

“What happened to: I’m giving up carbs until the new year? ” I speak the words back to her that she said to me just last week after she weighed herself and realized she’d gained five pounds. She begged me to remind her of her diet every time she tried to cheat.

It’s not like I don’t get it. Carbs are my kryptonite. If I could afford to eat the pizza and pasta here every week, I would. How much I weigh doesn’t mean s**t. People should love you for who you are, not what the number on the scale says.