She Belongs to Me (Rewritten Version)

Chapter Five

Emily:

There was hardly anyone at the library when I went to go meet Vincent there after school, most likely because there was a major party going on at one of the fraternity houses.  Partying was the last thing I cared about. My grades were too important to me.

"Over here!"  Hope waved me down from the back of the room.  She and James were sitting there with their chemistry books already cracked open. 

"Have you guys seen Vincent?"  I asked, as I took a seat at the table.  "He should've been here by now."

Hope scoffed and folded her arms, almost as if his name stung her ears.  "That creepy asshole is probably spying on us from somewhere."

"I thought you were going to lay off of him."

"Ugh, I'm sorry.  I can't help it."

"Well, please try to cool it. I'll never be able to finish this report if you scare him off."

"How's your report coming along anyway?" James asked, more than likely trying to ease the tension.

"It's a little intense," I admitted, pulling the rough draft from my bag. "The man we're writing about was a huge dick to his family, especially his son."

Hope snatched the paper from my hand, examining it with a smug grin. "It's probably Vincent's dad. I mean, did you see how tense he was when he began telling those stories? He was obviously shaken."

"Oh my God, you are so paranoid. He was tense because the guy was a creep. How would you feel talking about a man who beat his wife and son?"

"I would never talk about something like that."

I took the paper back and laid it in front of me on the table.  "Please, just stop being so cold towards him. I need to get a good grade on this."

"Fine. I'll try to be nice."

Vincent showed up a few minutes later, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and his cellphone with the other.  His face was flushed red and his brown hair stuck to his sweat covered forehead.  "I'm sorry I'm late," He panted, sitting down next to me.

James examined him with a smile.  "Did you just run a marathon or something?"

"No, my car wouldn't start, and I had to see what was wrong with it." 

"Your brand new car wouldn't start?"  Hope asked, with her eyebrows raised.  And she had a point.

Vincent drove a beautiful silver BMW that couldn't have been any older than a few weeks.  There were less than one hundred miles on the odometer, which I observed while we were riding with him.

The question didn't seem to aggravate him. "I left my headlights on all day and the battery died."

"Don't most newer cars have a feature that turns off your headlights automatically after a certain time limit?" Hope pressed, smiling innocently at him.

Why the hell was she being so hard on the guy?

I've seen her act petty towards people before, but she was taking it to a whole new level with Vincent.

"Not necessarily," James answered, picking up on her hostility as well. "He probably had his lights set on manual, isn't that right, Vincent?"

Vincent smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Yes, unfortunately."

I could tell Hope wanted to say something else, but she saw the pleading look in my eyes and held her tongue. She and James moved to a different table, leaving Vincent and I alone to finish our report.