counter, I decide to splurge and get a large iced coffee and a chocolate croissant.
I’m waiting on my order when the door opens and Melanie walks in with Abigail, one of the other RAs, and a girl I don’t know.
Abigail smiles and waves while Melanie glares at me like I just kicked her puppy. I wish I understood her issue with me. Ever since the Sterling-incident at the party, it’s like she’s a totally different person.
She went from sweet and encouraging to nasty and mean. All because she thought I was flirting with her man.
Oh my God! We ate lunch together yesterday... we kissed...
And it didn’t even occur to me to ask him about her. I am officially the worst.
At this point, all I can do is hope that they’re not together, because while I’ve been called a lot of things, homewrecker shockingly isn’t one of them. And I’d like to keep it that way.
The barista calls my name, and I pick up my goodies. I still have fifteen minutes left, so I plan to enjoy my breakfast on one of the benches outside.
I square my shoulders and hold my head high as I pass Melanie and company, determined not to show even a hint of fear or hurt. If she and Sterling are together, I’ll apologize and own up to my mistakes, and if they’re not, how freaking sad that she’d let a guy twist her up like that.
As I near the trio, Melanie’s eyes narrow and her lips quirk up into a perfectly evil smile. “Whore,” she coughs into her hand, like a middle school bully.
I’m usually not one for confrontation, but for some reason today, I find myself over it. “What is your problem?” I ask, stopping in front of her.
“You are.” She drags her eyes over me and curls her lip in disgust. “What kind of woman hits on another’s man? It’s pathetic, really.”
“Listen, I didn’t know y’all were together. Furthermore, I’m not interested in Sterling in that way. I’m not your competition, Melanie. He’s all yours.”
The girl I don’t know watches the two of us with wide eyes while Abigail looks concerned, but not shocked.
“Sterling made it official?” the gorgeous redheaded RA asks. “I thought he all but ghosted you.”
Melanie’s entire face darkens with rage. “You bitch!”
Abigail shrugs. “I’m just saying. No reason to invoke girl code when you’re not exactly keeping it yourself. Y’all aren’t together, and Emmy couldn’t have known you were into him.”
“What the fuck? Whose side are you on?” Melanie demands, nearly shouting.
“Girl, it’s not a fight. There shouldn’t be any sides.”
“Whatever.” Melanie shoves her way out of the line, intentionally knocking into me.
“Oh my God!” I shout as the ice-cold coffee seeps into my shirt. “What in the hell?”
“Watch your back, slut.” She struts out of the coffee shop with a venomous smirk playing on her lips.
So much for the tide turning. My luck’s as shitty as ever. I guess now I just have to hope this isn’t an omen of what’s to come in class.
“Are you okay?” Abigail asks as her friend hops out of line to grab napkins. “I’m so sorry about Mel. I don’t know what’s gotten into her!”
“Good dick can drive even the sanest girl crazy,” no-name says, pressing a wad of napkins into my hands.
“True,” Abigail muses. “But I know for a fact they haven’t fucked.”
Listening to their conversation feels weird, especially since they’re semi-talking about me.
Even worse is the spark of hope that flares in my heart at Abigail’s words. I really am pathetic.
I know she's trying to be nice, and to help, but right now, I just need to get out of this shop. "Thanks, but I–I need to go."
I turn and race out of the coffee shop, chunking my uneaten croissant and mostly empty cup into the trash on my way.
My hoodie is soaked through, but my tank top underneath is mostly dry. On any other day, I'd count that as a win, but it's in the low fifties, which is far too chilly for a damp shirt with no sleeves.
A quick glance at my phone tells me I only have eight minutes to get to class, so going home to change isn't an option. So, tank top it is.
I tug off my hoodie and tie it around my waist, with the wet side facing out before turning and rushing to my class.