Chapter Thirteen:Arrival at campus
1262 Words
Damien had walked away laughing.
That was the part Katherine couldn't shake.
The laugh.
Like she was a joke. Like her standing there frozen, unable to tell him to move, was the funniest thing he'd seen all week.
She'd stood against that wall for too long after he left. Then she'd walked back to her room, showered, and stared at the ceiling until her alarm went off.
Now it was morning. Now she had to face a new day. A new place.
And eventually, him.
“I hate my life “
She pulled on the skirt first. Black. Pleated. Hit mid-thigh. Then the sweater—cream colored, soft, slipping off one shoulder in a way that looked accidental but wasn't.
Boots next. Brown leather. Chunky heel. She'd found them in one of the shopping bags from the trip with her mom and had immediately hidden them in her closet like contraband.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
Different.
Back home, she lived in jeans and sneakers. Hoodies when it was cold. Nothing that drew attention.
She did her makeup. Not too much—she wasn't trying to be someone else. Just enough. Mascara. A little blush. Lip gloss that made her lips look fuller.
When she was done, she barely recognized herself.
Good.
"Ready?"
Her mom was waiting in the foyer. Keys in hand. Sunglasses already on even though they were still inside.
"Yeah."
"You look good."
"Thanks."
The drive was long.
The campus residence was almost two hours from the mansion. Katherine hadn't realized how far until they were thirty minutes in and still surrounded by trees and empty highway.
"Why is it so far?"
"Richard wanted them close to campus but away from the city. Fewer distractions, he said." Linda shrugged. "Also fewer witnesses, probably."
Katherine looked at her. "Was that a joke?"
"Maybe."
"Since when do you make jokes?"
Katherine snorted making Linda's lips twitched.
The radio played softly. Some generic station. Easy listening.Then the song changed.
Katherine recognized the opening notes immediately. So did Linda, apparently, because her hand shot to the volume dial.
"Oh my god."
"Mom—"
"This song."
"I know—"
Linda cranked it up. Loud. Louder than Katherine had ever heard her play anything.
It was old. Early 2000s.
Linda started singing.
Badly.
Katherine stared at her. This woman—this polished, controlled, woman—was belting lyrics with complete abandon, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing dramatically.
"Mom. What are you doing?"
"SINGING. Join in."
"Absolutely not."
"Katherine."
"No."
"KATHERINE."
And then Linda hit the high note. Or tried to. It came out somewhere between a screech and a yodel.
Katherine burst out laughing.
She couldn't help it. It was so absurd. So unexpected. Her mother, the ice queen, scream-singing in a Bentley on an empty highway.
"Your turn," Linda said.
"I'm not—"
"Your TURN."
The chorus came around again. Linda looked at her expectantly.
Katherine groaned.
Then she sang.
Also badly. Intentionally badly. Matching her mother's energy.
They sounded terrible together. Two voices that should never harmonize attempting exactly that.
It was awful.
It was perfect.
The song ended. The next one was slow, boring, forgettable. Linda turned the volume back down.
They drove in silence for a moment.
"Don't tell anyone about that," Linda said.
"Who would believe me?"
"Fair point."
Katherine looked out the window. Smiling.
The campus residence wasn't what she expected.
She'd pictured something like the mansion—old, imposing, too many rooms. Instead, it was modern. Clean lines. Glass and stone. Three stories, tucked away at the edge of campus behind a gated entrance.
"This is it?"
"The Ashford Campus House." Linda pulled through the gate after punching in a code. "Richard had it built ten years ago. The boys have been staying here since freshman year."
"And now I'm staying here too."
"Richard's orders."
"Do I get a say?"
"Do any of us?"
Linda parked in front of the entrance. They sat there for a moment, looking at the building.
"You'll have your own room," Linda said. "Your own bathroom. It's not like you'll be sharing a bunk bed with them."
"Small mercies."
"The biggest mercy is that Richard is paying for everything and you don't have student loans. Keep that in mind when you want to complain."
Katherine didn't argue. She couldn't. Her mom had a point.
Inside was just as modern as outside.
Open floor plan. High ceilings. A living area with leather couches and a TV bigger than Katherine's old bedroom wall. Kitchen with an island. Stairs leading up to what she assumed were bedrooms.
It smelled new. Clean. Unlived in, even though she knew the brothers had been here for years.
"Your room is upstairs," Linda said. "Second floor, end of the hall. The boys are on the third floor."
"So I'm below them."
"Architecturally, yes. In every other way, also yes." Linda set down the bag she'd carried in. "Let's get you settled."
The room was nice.
Katherine hated that she couldn't find anything wrong with it.
A queen bed with white sheets. A desk by the window overlooking some trees. A closet that was walk-in. A bathroom with a shower AND a tub.
"Well?" Linda was watching her.
"It's fine."
"High praise."
"What do you want me to say? It's a nice room. I'm very grateful. Thank you, Richard, for your generosity."
"Sarcasm noted." Linda started unpacking the bag—toiletries, a few things Katherine had brought from the mansion. "The rest of your things will arrive tomorrow. I've arranged for someone to bring them."
"Okay mom ."
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Putting things away. Making the space livable.
At one point, Linda paused. Reached over. Fixed the collar of Katherine's sweater, which had shifted during the drive.
She didn't say anything. Just fixed it. Then went back to unpacking.
Linda left thirty minutes later.
"I have a meeting with the wedding planner." She grabbed her purse, checked her phone. "Call me if you need anything. Actually call me either way. Just so I know you're alive."
"I'll try to remember."
"Katherine."
"I'll call you, Mom."
Linda hesitated at the door. For a second, Katherine thought she might say something else. Something meaningful.
"Don't let them get to you," Linda said instead. "The boys. They're going to Push you. Don't give them the satisfaction."
"Speaking from experience?"
Linda's expression flickered. "Just be smart."
She left.
Katherine stood in the doorway, watching her mother's car disappear down the drive.
Then she closed the door and pulled out her phone.
She snapped a pic in the mirror. Sent it to Jenna without context.
Three seconds later:
Jenna:EXCUSE ME??????
Jenna:WHO IS SHE
Jenna:when did you become a MODEL
Katherine:shut up
Jenna:no seriously what is happening. the sweater. the BOOTS. katherine chen are you wearing a SKIRT??
Katherine:maybe
Jenna:I need to sit down. I'm sitting down.
Katherine:you're so dramatic
**Jenna:** I'M dramatic?? you send me a thirst trap out of nowhere and I'M dramatic???
Katherine laughed. Sat down on her new bed. Typed back.”i***t”
She looked around the room. Her room. For now.
Somewhere above her, on the third floor, were three bedrooms belonging to three brothers who had made her life complicated in very different ways.
She was living with all of them now. In this house. On this campus. No escape.
A door opened somewhere upstairs. Footsteps.
They were here.
Katherine stayed where she was. Listening.
More footsteps. Voices—low, indistinct. She couldn't tell who was talking.
- Writer
