Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

THE BOARDERS: 41

Lo

I tangle my fingers in Somers' as her breathing shifts, relieved when she settles into sleep. Then, just as quickly, I realize I don't know what to do now. Do I let her sleep in the car? I mean, I'll sack up and stay, and that seems like the easiest option. But it's certainly not the most comfortable. If I wake her and we leave the car, though...will she want me to take her to Jill's? Or the dorm? I watch her for a few moments before deciding: dorm it is. Not only is it closer, I can keep an eye on her through the night.

I pull my phone from my pocket, shooting off a text to Weaver. I want to know what happened after we left the party, and I want him to know that I'm keeping Somers safe with me until we can figure out what to do tomorrow. (Let's be real: I'm also half-apologizing and half-reminding him where her heart resides. Not that he needs it. His response is short and sweet: Ott left right after you did (said he was going home), sounds good re: Lo.)

I tense, scanning the parking lot for any sign of Ott, but he wouldn't have come here to continue the fight. I imagine he really did go home after what happened, probably raging and itching for his next opportunity to fuck up. Or, maybe—and I hate that I still hope this of him—he realized he went too far, and now he knows he needs to fix this.

I slide from Somers' truck, coming around to the passenger side and opening the door. She doesn't move and I understand with sudden clarity that she's not waking up for the walk to MacMillan. She's in the deep sleep of the recently traumatized, that post-adrenaline place that usually only drugs or booze can create. Looks like I'm going to be carrying her ass up the hill.

I unbuckle her seatbelt and slip my arms under her body, trying not to touch her in any way that would piss her off or scare her. But as it turns out, it's not easy to maneuver someone's body out of a car, so I struggle with that for a little bit before deciding, fuck it. She'd be throwing a fit about this if she were awake. If I have to pull her by her ankles a little bit to get her in a position I can work with, so be it.

I'm halfway to MacMillan—passing Sullivan—when I see a group of girls standing outside. I actually smell them first—the thin curls of cigarette smoke reach my nose just before I turn a corner and catch sight of them.

I can't tell who's who in the dark, but I hope that if I keep walking, no one will bother me. If I'm being honest, carrying an eighteen-year-old chick up a hill is less "romantic comedy cute" than it is one hell of a workout. I'm starting to sweat and more than ready to unload Somers in her bunk.

Unfortunately, it's not going to be that easy.

"Sam Evans. What are you doing shirtless outside Sullivan at half one?"

I turn to see a fourth form observing me with undisguised curiosity. Jenny's a beauty, Italian-born but raised mostly in the UK. She's also a flirt, and the last person I want to be talking to right now. I shake my head, not bothering with an answer as I continue my trek toward MacMillan.

Jenny's eyes move to Somers and her face changes. "Ah," she says quietly. "The puta. Heard she did it with Brandon Ott at the party tonight. Outside. I'd watch out for that one if I were you."

The girls behind her titter. One of them slaps her shoulder and hisses, "Jenny."

"What?" When Jenny turns, I can see she's wasted. Her movements are one step slower than they ought to be. The friend juts her chin in my direction and Jenny looks back to me.

"Ohh, duh!" Her eyes widen and she laughs, hiccupping even as she puts a hand over her mouth to stop it. "You know that already."

I don't trust myself to speak, but I don't trust myself to move either. Somers snuggles into my chest just slightly—just enough to remind me of my priorities—and I stand stock still hoping that Jenny doesn't say what I think she wants to.

"You hit Brandon," one of the other girls interjects, leaning around Jenny. "Because of her?"

"What'd he tell you?" It's a growl.

Jenny laughs again. "You already know."

"Remind me." My patience is running thin.

"She's such a skank!" It's the girl who elbowed Jenny at first. She's gaping at me like I'm an idiot.

"What did Ott tell you?" If my voice was a growl before, it's a hiss now. The girls are buzzing, too drunk or high to care.

"He told us he screwed her, but you got jealous. And you hit him." Jenny takes a wild swing at the air, almost knocking herself over with the motion. "Why do you care anyway? She's just a slut. So easy. I heard she did it with Seb Weaver too, but maybe not tonight. Maybe in the summer?" Jenny's voice lifts into a question at the end and she turns for confirmation from her friends, who nod and giggle. That motherfucker.

Suddenly buzzing with new adrenaline, I leave the girls behind and practically race up the hill to the dorm.

In the room, I tuck Somers' body into her sheets before confirming her keys are still in my back pocket. Then I send a second text to Jared (gotta make a quick errand. Keep her safe) and I'm headed back to the boarder lot with one goal in mind.