How Sinners Fight - Eva Ashwood Page 0,26

better if I stop fucking kidding myself. We played this game last semester. I thought it was over, but clearly, that was just round one.

In my room, I throw everything back into the bag Max packed for me, shoving it in roughly and haphazardly. Grabbing my phone and yanking the charger out of the socket, I order an Uber and stalk back down the stairs, heading out the front door. It slams behind me.

Just like that, it’s over. It’s fucking over.

How did that just happen?

How did everything come crumbling down so fast?

My heart and my head battle, and neither of them win—the only thing that wins is the cold. The numb.

I dig my fingernails into my palms, my body tense as I wait for the Uber to pull up. In less than five minutes, I slide into the back seat of a car and it pulls away, leaving Gray and his fancy-ass house behind.

I glance back over my shoulder just once as his house recedes in the distance, my heart constricting so hard in my chest that it feels like it might stop beating entirely.

Maybe I should consider this a blessing, but Gray was still in the kitchen when I left. He never even fucking tried to stop me. He just let me go, like that.

Which means he really wasn’t lying.

He truly does want me gone.

7

When we reach the Hawthorne Campus, I leave the driver with little more than a muttered thanks and grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder. As he pulls away, I start the short trek across the campus to my dorm room. Usually at this time of day there would already be students milling around in groups on the quad, thanks to the mild California weather, but it seems like everyone is at home or vacationing for the break.

Not me.

I pull my phone out of the pocket I shoved it in and dial up one of the few contacts on it—Max. She answers almost immediately.

“Hey, girl, what’s up?” she greets me. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

I wish I could return the sentiment, but there isn’t a merry bone in my body right now. “Hey. Can you meet me back at my dorm? I’m almost there.”

“Wait, you’re here?” There’s a pause on the other line. “I thought you were with Gray.”

“No, I’m here—”

“Did he drive you?” she interrupts, worry filling her voice.

“No. I paid for a ride.” I don’t say more than that. This is a conversation that’s better had in person, but I know even the few words I’ve already said are enough for her to figure out that something is seriously wrong. My chest aches all over again, and I push the feeling down. “Are you busy? Can you meet up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Since I couldn’t go home, I wasn’t really planning on doing much today, just binge watching some shows or something. I’ll be right over.” She hangs up with a short breath that I know means she’s bracing herself for whatever shit storm she’s about to face.

Shit storm? Is that what this is?

I’m not really sure. I’m not sure about anything anymore. As much as I kind of feel like crying right now, I also feel like kicking someone’s ass.

Max is quick. She’s waiting by the door to my building by the time I get there. Swinging my bag around to the front of my body, I yank down one of the zippers and rifle around for the key card, relieved when my fingers brush up against the smooth plastic. Thank fuck I didn’t accidentally leave it at Gray’s place. The last thing I want is for him to have my key card, yet again.

“Shit, Sophie,” Max says, looking at me even though I can’t meet her eyes, “this looks bad.”

“Bad?” I repeat, but the word is hollow. I slide the card through the reader and the door clicks open.

Max follows close behind me as we head up to my dorm room. I haven’t been here since the night of the party, and it’s a little strange to walk inside the little apartment unit. I thought I’d be coming back to this place under much different circumstances. Maybe after a long, satisfying break with Gray, ready to start up a new semester and hit the ground running. I was looking forward to coming back here and painting again, to getting back into the groove of school and art.

Max gives me a look as she settles onto my couch. I’m still lingering