Vintage Love

Chapter 4

Trigger Warning: Mention of Needles

Grace leans towards me and whispers, her voice barely audible amidst the lecture, "So... how was it? Meeting with your sister?" I'm a bit surprised because I don't recall mentioning to her that I had plans to meet my sister. Perhaps Holden informed her earlier this morning.

"It went well..." I respond in a hushed tone, my gaze still fixed on the front as I hastily jot down some notes.

"I miss Angelica," she whispers, leaning closer to my ear. "Is it your father's doing again?"

I shrug, turning to face her. "I hope not, but I believe so."

She gave me a side hug and says, "If you need anything, I'm here."

I cringe at her words, "No offense, girl, but, please that's giving me chills."

Suddenly, a presence settles next to me, interrupting our conversation. I look over and see a dark-haired girl with tan skin. She places her bag close to me before taking a seat. Twirling her pen with her fingers, she tucks it into her messy bun. With a smile, she turns to me and offers me a handshake. "Hey!"

Leaning back in my seat, I raise an eyebrow as I examine her. I notice rainbow bracelets adorning her wrist and a butterfly tattoo on her ring finger. "Is there something you need?" I inquire.

She chuckles softly, I couldn't help but notice her endearing smile. Our eyes lock for a moment before she leans in, closing the distance between us. The scent of vanilla envelops my senses as she drew closer, playfully fluttering her eyelashes. Leaning close to my ear, she whispers, "I'm Selena, and I want to invite you to a party that's happening tonight."

I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I turned my head towards her ear, blowing warm air in a playful manner. Her ear turned red, which made me smirk as I whispered, "Inviting people to parties during a lecture? I'm sure the professor wouldn't be too thrilled about that, would he?"

She let out a sigh and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "You're hot, but your attitude needs work," she remarked.

I rolled my eyes, tilting my head and smirking at her. "Is that so? Do you want to do something about it?" I challenged her, but she became flustered and shook her head.

I knew she wouldn't. I leaned back in my seat and thought to myself, "So weak." Then, I briefly glanced at her and asked, "Where's the party?"

"At this place," Selena says, handing over a card with the address on it and a number. I held the card between two of my fingers and waved it slightly in mid-air. Then, I asked, "Whose number is this?"

"It belongs to the person hosting this party, my friend, but you can also have my number," she suggests, retrieving the card and jotting down her own contact information before returning it to me.

Casting a final glance at Selena, I then shift my attention to Grace, only to be met with her piercing glares and disapproving expression. Swiftly, I suppress the tension in my throat, acknowledging that Grace is unhappy with the situation.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and then shifted my attention to the professor. His glasses sat low on his nose as he read from his notes to the class. He spoke slowly, pausing occasionally as if he couldn't remember what to say next. Every now and then, he would look up from his notes and smile at us, as if to check that we were still awake.

After what felt like an eternity, the lecture finally ended with a reminder about our upcoming assignment. I push my chair back slightly, stretched, and began gathering my belongings. Suddenly, the tan skin girl reached over and gently grasped my hands. I turned my head to look at her.

"I hope to see you there tonight," she said before grabbing her bag and walking away. I watched her leave until I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Grace, looking at me sternly with thin lips as if she was about to explode.

"A party? Seriously, Charlotte?" Grace express, her eyes darkening in disappointment. She gestured with her arm as she continues, "You've been going to parties nonstop and yesterday you said you wouldn't do it again. And here you are, planning to attend another party."

I sigh briefly and offer her a sincere, gentle smile. "Hey, I was invited, so I figure why not. Besides, I don't plan on getting drunk."

Grace shook her head slightly, "Only if you actually mean it every time you say that."

Her gaze softens as I flash her an innocent smile. Sometimes she speaks firmly, but it's also easy to get away with things.

My phone rang, diverting my attention. I reach into my pocket to retrieve it and saw that it was my father calling. The phone continued to ring, and my eyes were fixated on the Caller ID as I waited for the call to end. Even after the ringing stopped, the echo lingers in my mind, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the phone. The fear of uncertainty and the anger that remains from last night boiled in me. Every time he calls, every time he add stress.

"Don't you want to call him back?" Grace interrupts my thoughts, my gaze returning back to her. She reaches for my bag, handing it to me, and slung her own bag over her shoulder. I take the bag from her and excuse myself, "I'll head out first and call him back."

With that, I left Grace behind and rush outside to make the call. The warm September air caresses my skin as I search for a private spot. People were scattered around, some sitting on the grass or on benches. Some are alone with their laptops, while others giggle with friends, filling the air with joy.

Although the surroundings seem warm and cheerful, I can't shake the feeling of cold chills creeping over me. Eventually, I found myself in an alleyway nestled between two buildings. I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, leaning against the wall as I waited for him to answer. It was filled with drawings of roses that were drew by a rock.

"Can't you pick up the phone instead?" he snaps harshly as soon he answered.

I let out a dry chuckle and reply, "I like it better when I call you."

The walls were cold as I rest my palm against them and slowly drag my fingers across the surface. Before bending down to pick up a rock, then lifting it towards the sky, examining its features - a dark, round rock with subtle gradient colors. Just an ordinary rock.

I could hear shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of an elevator ding. Then, his voice softens, "Come to my office tomorrow."

Rubbing the rock between my fingers, I began scraping it against the brick wall, leaving bright white marks behind. I drag the rock, creating curves and lines, stepping back to admire my work - a rose. Another to the collection on the wall.

"Is it that time already?" I ask, knowing the answer. Gripping the rock tightly in my hands, I threw it far away, watching it bounce off the wall. My hand trembles besides me as I raise my right arm and noticed a scare from the needles abuse.

"Yes, and we can discuss about Angelica," he says, before abruptly ending the call. As I hold the phone to my ear, I release a shaky breath that I didn't realize I had been holding.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, my voice trembling, and I punch the wall, getting my teeth against the pain.