[completed] Nova Carter knows exactly what the next few years of her life will look like: she will work harder than anyone else (as she didn't get into New York University to slack off); she'll be keeping her head down and prioritizing getting her a...
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Chapter Six | Blind
♫blind by ROLEMODEL
The storm has taken a turn for the worse by the time someone pounds their knuckles against the door of Logan's dorm room. He jumps where he almost dozed off on the bed, his eyes disoriented as he watches me head for the door. I hear the frantic shuffle of bedsheets and the thump of his feet hitting the carpet as I swing the door open and meet the sight of Milo Macarevich, sporting a nasty brown stain on his white T-shirt that immediately draws my attention.
His hand shoots up in an attempt to cover it. "It's not even a funny story," is the first thing he says, seemingly embarrassed. "I got a coffee this morning and decided to take a shortcut through Union Square park, and there was this flock of birds protecting something in the bushes I was apparently too close to. They all started, like, flying towards me really fast and then dodging at the last moment—" he pauses— "You know how they do that sometimes, right? So, naturally, I started waving my hands and making some weird noises to scare them off. Then bam, hot coffee, all over my crisp white shirt fresh from the wash. And I'm telling you, the birds laughed. I know that sounds ridiculous, but they genuinely made like, ha-ha noises. Assholes." He mutters the last word, shaking his now empty coffee cup in front of his face, a genuinely pissed-off look taking shape.
"Seriously?" I laugh. I reach out and take his cup from him, my fingers trembling yet getting the job done and curling around the cup's paper with plenty of force.
Milo sulks and nods, twirling the umbrella in his hands. He's about to say something when Logan appears next to me, trash bin in hand, and shoots Milo— who looks surprised and also humiliated— a curious glance. In any way, he doesn't seem as threatened or as aggressive as he seemed before. I toss the empty coffee cup inside and seek out his gaze.
"We're good, right?" I ask. In the corner of my eye, Milo adjusts his jacket and spins his umbrella with the tip on the floor. I move outside, and Logan rests his side against the door.
"We're good," he assures me quickly, stealing another glance at Milo. Then, softer, "Not a threat. But call me if you need anything."
The door falls shut after I've waved at him, its hinges rattling and Logan's shadow retreating from underneath the frame. A sudden nervousness swirls around my stomach next. I'm not sure if it's because he's not coming, or because Milo is, or just because the realization of having to travel around New York for the first time is just dawning on me. I'm nervous to descend the subway stairs and wait on the platform and push my way inside without falling onto the tracks, I'm nervous because you don't just reach out and hold onto someone new. I'm nervous because there is someone new, accompanying me to the hospital.