Good Guy

Part Eighteen

Cleo was sure she'd never felt as relieved about something her whole life as seeing Scotch back to his old self that afternoon. It made going back to school and sitting in on her lectures less taxing. She didn't have to worry whether he was okay or not anymore.

She and Shayla managed to return to the university before their last set of subjects for the day. With Scotch doing fine at home, everything seemed so much easier to take in now, including the barrage of topics Professor Solis had insisted they learn before classes let out. Unfortunately, such a thing wasn't very easy to do.

So Cleo decided to stay at the library for a little while and try to muddle through as much schoolwork as she could, with the help of some additional reading materials.

The university library was one whole building divided into sections by floor and wing, and Cleo found herself running into and out of General Circulation. She pulled out enough books to construct a decently sized pyramid before settling into one of the padded office chairs that surrounded an otherwise empty, round study table. She didn't mind being it's only occupant, because it only meant that she could work in peace.

However, that peace was cut short when a perfectly manicured hand planted itself on top of the page she'd been taking notes from.

"If it isn't Cleo Hilard." Adelih's sickly sweet, breezy voice barely echoed in the silent library room, but it still came out like a threat. "Nice outfit you got there. Did you wear the same one to your pot session the other day?"

Cleo stared slack-jawed at her. Adelih wasn't making any sense—less sense than usual, at least. Just what was she up to this time? "I don't know what you're taking about, Adelih. Leave me alone."

"Come on, Cleo." The girl put her other hand on her cocked hip, leaning against the table and pretending she had the 'bad-assery' to justify her pose. It grated on Cleo's nerves. "The other night? Shayla Edmunds' house? Does any of that ring a bell?"

"What do you know about what happened at Shayla Edmund's place? You weren't there," Cleo snapped. Somebody must've talked to Shayla again, and she might've mentioned that the freshman kid had joined in on gaming night or something. It didn't help that anyone who knew her could have seen her and Shayla going out for lunch together earlier that day.

"It's not so hard to guess." Adelih stooped forward, her accusing eyes looking straight at Cleo's. "News travels fast you know. The grapevine is very efficient."

"Well your grapevine is wrong." Whatever story was going around this time, it was enough to thoroughly convince Adelih that some nefarious ritual had happened at Shayla's house. Cleo was not happy about that. She was already having a rough time trying to understand Scotch, and she didn't need to hear anything shady about his friends. "We just ate pizza and played video games, nothing more."

"That's not what Jackson Cavendish and his buddies are saying," Adelih replied, her sing-song voice emphasizing Jackson's last name.

The mere mention of Cavendish sent Cleo on high alert. The grip she had on her pen tightened, and she almost crumpled the blank page of her notebook in the other hand. It seemed that Adelih wanted to turn her study hour into a cat fight. "So you're on Jackson's team now?"

"Jealous much?"

"As if. You can have him for all I care," Cleo said, her every word sincere. She was not coming within two feet of Jackson if she could help it. They barely even acknowledged each other anymore.

Her response seemed to displease Adelih. Cleo knew that she must've been expecting more of a reaction instead of the blatant indifference that had been handed out. However, being her typical self, Adelih didn't back down and took another shot at Cleo.