Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
* * *
Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Snow flurries flutter around me as I walk across campus, a blanket of grey clouds settled above Boulder as I sink my hands farther into the fuzzy pockets of my coat. I hadn't worn any mittens today because it wasn't supposed to start snowing until after 5 pm, when I would be at Ryder's house, safe and warm for our dinner plans this evening. But, as per usual, the weather in Colorado has a mind of its own.
As I step into The Laughing Goat, I am reminded of the last time I was here and how I'd steadfastly avoided the campus coffee shop since being recognized. This time, no one seems to know who I am or care that I am here, a sense of anonymity washing over me that'd I'd wished for since that article came out in the Daily Camera.
I join the line forming in front of the cashier, waiting to order a hot coffee and scone while I pull my phone out and text Savannah that I'm here. We decided to meet up today to go over the project we have coming up in the psychology lab we'd both taken this semester. It's Advanced Cognitive Psychology, and part of the lab is to create and conduct your own research with a team, so when we'd realized we were in the same class, naturally we chose each other as partners.
She texts back saying she got us a table in the back, and then I ask if she wants anything as I get closer to the girl behind the cash register, but she answers me saying she's already got a coffee. I order my drink and study snack, collecting both before I head towards the back of the coffee shop.
I spot Savannah's honey-colored hair, pulled up into a long ponytail. She's dressed in a pair of slacks and a tight tank top, a large knit sweater hung around her shoulders. In the entire time I've known Savannah, I've never known her to not be dressed well. Whether it be for class or for a party, she's always made it a priority to look nice. It makes my leggings and Ryder's oversized sweatshirt pale in comparison.
She sees me too, waving and I smile, waving back as I approach. But just then I feel a hand at my elbow, and I turn, eyes wide when I realize Lars is here too.
"Hey Jourdan," he grins easily, and I smile back, leaning in for a quick hug.
"Lars," I say. "What are you up to?"
"Studying for a midterm." He grumbles, gesturing over his shoulder where I spot Andrew and Tristan sitting at a table with textbooks, notebooks and flashcards spread across it.
"Already?"
"Yeah," he nods, shrugging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "The business school organizes their semesters into quarters."
"Oh," I nod, remembering now. "That's right."
"You here to study too?" He asks. "You should come sit with us."
"Well," I pause, knowing there's a conflict ahead as soon as he realizes who I'm sitting with. I turn my head slightly, catching Savannah's icy glare locked in, her eyes narrowed at Lars' back. "Kind-of, I'm working on a project for my psych lab with Savannah."
