Cookie

2

"Natalie!"

I hear my only friend in this place, Mary, calling my name as she runs toward me with a book in one hand and two coffees in the other. She's wearing blue jeans, a yellow t-shirt, and white sneakers, yet somehow still looks like she just stepped out of a photo shoot. She's taller than me and effortlessly beautiful—short black hair, big brown eyes framed by long lashes, plump lips, and perfectly shaped eyebrows.

She’s also the craziest person on earth, and I love her for that. Over the past year and a half, she’s been the only one who could make me smile with her goofy faces and unbelievable stories about boys.

She reaches me and kisses my cheeks, and I hug her, gratefully accepting the coffee and savoring its warmth.

"Good, you're here, Natalie!" she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward two guys standing nearby. "I want you to meet Logan, my boyfriend," she says, winking at me, "and his younger brother, Liam. Guys, this is my best friend, Natalie."

Logan puts his arm around Mary’s waist, and she starts to giggle like the teenage girl she actually is. I have to admit, the guys are incredibly handsome. They seem to be about the same height—somewhere around 6'3"—and they both look like they spend a lot of time in the gym.

Logan has blonde hair, blue eyes, sculpted cheekbones, thin lips, and a friendly smile. He’s wearing jeans and a matching blue t-shirt that stretches over his muscular arms—arms that are bigger than Mary’s entire body, if you can even believe that. He seems kind, and when he extends his hand, I don’t hesitate to shake it and smile back.

I hope Mary doesn’t break this poor guy’s heart. He looks at her like she’s the light at the end of the tunnel, and they’ve only been dating for a few weeks.

Liam, on the other hand, is Logan’s exact opposite. If Logan is the light, Liam is the darkness itself. He has black curly hair that looks impossibly soft, dark eyes shadowed by thick lashes, plump lips, a prominent jaw, and an all-black outfit. Every girl in this college is going to be obsessed with him. His t-shirt doesn’t quite cover the tattoo on his neck, and I can’t stop myself from staring at the small crown inked at the base.

"See something you like?"

His cocky smile catches me off guard, and my cheeks heat up. Why was I staring at him like that?

"Sorry!" I say, looking down at my shoes. "I was definitely staring. I just... I’ve never met anyone with a tattoo before."

I decide it’s better to be honest—I don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

"So, you want me to believe you were staring with your mouth wide open at my tattoo and not at my incredibly hot body?" he teases, laughing. Logan and Mary start laughing too.

"Don’t feel ashamed, cookie. It happens to me all the time. Girls just can’t help daydreaming when they see me. But if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask, and I’ll give it to you."

Something about the way he says it makes my blood run cold, like I’ve just been slapped. Who does this guy think he is? But before I can tell him off, he simply turns and walks away. I’m too shocked to move, watching him leave until Logan speaks.

"Excuse my brother, Nataly. He's... well, he's just being himself. Please don’t take it personally, that’s just how he is."

Logan smiles at me, trying to keep a straight face, but my friend is not as considerate. No, Mary laughs so hard her eyes water. I hit her arm and frown.

"Sorry, Nat!" she says, wiping her eyes. "Liam is an ass. He treats girls like hell. Just stay away from him, okay?"

I nod, heading toward the tall building.

---

As we walk inside, I spot Tiffany—my worst nightmare—talking to Liam. She gestures in my direction, her lips curling into a smirk. I’ve known her since kindergarten, and she’s always hated me. She used to keep her distance because I had my sister, but ever since I lost her, Tiffany made it her mission to ruin my life.

Throwing food at me, calling me ugly nicknames, stealing my clothes after gym class, plastering fake photos of me with random guys all over school—those are just a few of the things she’s done.

Liam follows her gaze, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. Tiffany laughs, but he doesn’t. He just stares, his jaw tightening, like he’s disgusted by what he sees.

I lower my head, suddenly self-conscious, but before I can even blink, something cold and sticky splashes all over me.

Banana milkshake.

"Surviving bitch!" someone shouts.

The cold drink drips down my face and neck, the sickly sweet smell making me nauseous. I recognize the guy who threw it—one of Tiffany’s friends. I already know this is going to be a long, horrible year.

"Fuck you!" Mary snaps, grabbing the empty cup and throwing it back at him.

He just laughs. "Sorry!" he says between chuckles.

Mary rushes to help me, dabbing my face with napkins while Logan takes my coffee and scans the crowd with an angry expression. I take the napkins from Mary, forcing a smile.

"I’ll go clean up." I turn to leave, pretending this doesn’t bother me. "I have math first, then physics. I’ll see you guys at lunch."

As I hurry away, I hear Logan asking Mary who the guy was and why she stopped him from beating his face in. Mary explains that I don’t want anyone getting involved—which is true.

Mary tried defending me before, but that only made Tiffany target her too. I made her promise to stay out of it.

Before I enter the girls’ bathroom, I see Tiffany and the milkshake guy whispering and laughing. I roll my eyes and shut the door behind me.

Breathe, Nataly.

I grip the sink, staring at my reflection. Keep your head down. Don’t let her get to you. Fighting back will only make it worse.

After quickly washing my face, I realize it's already 8:05. I bolt down the hall, hoping I’m not too late for my first class. But it’s pointless—Mrs. Caro is already speaking when I step inside.

"I'm sorry for being late, Mrs. Caro—"

"Come in, Nataly," she interrupts with a kind smile. "I was wondering where you were."

Mrs. Caro is my favorite teacher. She’s in her early thirties, with bright red hair and blue eyes. She’s tiny and slim, always dressed in a two-piece suit with the highest heels I’ve ever seen. Last year, she was one of the few teachers who actually cared, staying after class just to check on me.

"Thank you," I mumble, heading to my usual seat—only to find Tiffany sitting there, staring at me with a smug expression.

I take a step back, refusing to provoke her. I never understood why she hated me so much, but I won’t make the mistake of pissing her off more.

"Nataly, take the seat next to our new classmate—Liam."

I freeze. My gaze shifts to where Liam sits, arms crossed, frowning like he might start yelling at the teacher for putting me near him.

Keeping my eyes on the floor, I take the seat beside him, trying to take up as little space as possible.

"You smell like bananas," he mutters, his voice husky. "And you have milkshake in your hair."

I blush. "Sorry. I promise it’s not my usual perfume."

Liam’s leg stops my chair from moving further away, and he pulls me closer—so close I can smell his cologne.

"Here," he says. "No need to apologize. But now all I can think about is eating you up."

My face burns. He smirks.

"Relax. I don’t plan to do it in class."

What is he doing to me?