Awakening (Covenant College #1) (9 page)

As we walked back to the dorms, I noticed that it looked like it was about to start raining.

“I hope it storms.”

“You like storms?”

“Yeah.”

“Me, too,” Paris admitted.

“Me three,” Mark chimed in.

We decided to wait outside to see if it would storm. We weren’t disappointed. Paris and I both walked out into the open field next to the dorm, opening our arms and staring up at the sky as the downpour started.

“I love the rain,” Paris said.

I was only half listening to her. The truth is
,
I felt relaxed during a storm. Other people got keyed up and scared. I was just the opposite. I was one of those rare people that felt no harm could ever come to me in a storm. The rest of the time, of course, was another story.

Without even speaking to each other, Paris and I both began twirling in the storm. There was no rhyme or reason behind our movements, we both just wanted to be free.

For his part, Mark was quickly getting bored.

“Let’s go inside.”

There was a loud crack of thunder. Neither Paris nor I were dissuaded from the twirling.

Mark was starting to get panicky. “Seriously, let’s go inside before we get struck by lightning.”

Paris and I ignored Mark’s plea.

The next thing I knew, something cold and wet splattered against the left side of my head. I reached up to feel what it was. I realized it was mud. I turned in the direction it had come from.

Rick No. 1 was doubled over laughing a few feet away. The rest of his suite mates were next to him.

Now, a normal girl would have been agitated by mud being thrown at her. I was exhilarated. Before I even realized what was happening I’d retaliated with such force that Rick No. 1 had actually slipped and fallen in the mud in his haste to get away.

These movements set off a full-on mud fight amongst everyone.

The fight was a melee of bodies and molded dirt that lasted a full half an hour before everyone had had their fill. We made our way into the dorm and all clamored into the elevator together. Everyone was still laughing and having a good time as they made their way down the hall. I noticed our dorm room was open – which surprised me. I thought Tara and
Brittany
were hard at work on their homework.

When I entered the door I realized that it hadn’t been left open by my roommates. Instead, Will was sitting on the couch expectantly.

When he saw me, drenched and covered with mud, his brow furrowed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” I laughed. “We just had a mud fight.”

Will glared at the guys standing behind us in the hall. They seemed to get the hint and quickly exited to their own room. Mark whispered a quick goodbye and took off for the stairwell at the end of the hall.

“What’s wrong?” I didn’t understand why Will was so worked up. We didn’t have any plans. I was sure of it.

“What do you mean what’s wrong? You’re covered in mud.”

“So?”

“You’re covered in mud and wet.”

“If you’re worried about the mess, it’s not like I’m making a mess at your place.”

“It’s not the mess!” Will practically
exploded
.

“Then what is it?” I was no happier with him than he was with me right now.

“It’s . . . it’s
. .
“

“What?”

“It’s just so childish.”

“Childish? It’s childish?”

Will
nodded
mutely.

“You had black eyes all summer because you threw lit firecrackers in your brother’s room when he was trying to get it on with a girl and I’m childish?”

“That’s different,” Will
looked
uncomfortable.

“How is that different?”

“Because that was at home.”

“So?”

“That was at home – where my brothers couldn’t find out about it.”

“Why would your frat brothers care that I got in a mud fight?”

Will
shifted
uncomfortably. I got the feeling he’d said something he wished he could take back. Quite frankly, I wished he could take the whole visit back.

“I guess they wouldn’t.”

“Then why are you so upset.”

“I guess I just didn’t like seeing you flirt with those guys.” Will averted his eyes from me. The statement had a ring of truth – and yet I didn’t think it was the truth.

Given the fact that I was wet and dripping on the floor, though, I didn’t have the energy to fight with Will.

“Well then,” I said in a measured and clipped tone. “I guess you just shouldn’t tell your frat brothers I was in a mud fight and you should realize that engaging in a mud fight isn’t equitable to sex.”

Will
nodded
, still uncomfortable with the situation.

Things didn’t get much better after that. Will made a hasty retreat – promising to call me tomorrow – and
Brittany
gave Paris and I dirty
looks
until we’d cleaned the floor in the common area to her approval.

After everything was done, Paris and I both climbed on the couch and flipped channels until we found an episode of ‘Hoarders’ to watch.

“Still totally worth it,” Paris whispered.

Ten

Most people say that if you sleep on it, most of your anger will abate during the night.

The people that say that are wrong.

When I woke up the next morning I was still angry with Will. I was also suspicious. I couldn’t figure out why he would possibly care what we’d done the night before.

Since it was Wednesday, I had the same class schedule as Monday. I wasn’t looking forward to returning to Journalism 101 and the peculiar Mr. Blake – speaking of things that were making me suspicious. That was getting to be a long list.

Paris and I went to breakfast together. Neither of us seemed up for much conversation, though. I figured she was struggling with her feelings for Mike. I knew I was struggling with how to make my relationship with
Will
work – especially after his juvenile shit fit the night before.

After eating a huge plate of cheesy hash-browns, Paris and I set out for class. Any conversation we did share was light.

We split up to head to different floors. English was uneventful – as usual. Paris and I met back up for Astrology – which was ridiculously boring.

“I thought this was going to be more fun,” Paris admitted.

“Me, too.”

“That lab is going to suck.”

“No doubt.”

After Astronomy, I slowly made my way towards the Journalism 101 class. I stopped to tie my shoes – even though they didn’t need it – and get a drink of water – even though I wasn’t thirsty. I was just dreading seeing Professor Blake again.

When I entered the classroom, I tried to ignore Matilda waving at me frantically.

“Zoe! I saved you a seat.”

Guess I couldn’t ignore that. I grimaced as I slid into the seat next to Matilda and greeted her with as much enthusiasm as I could muster – which admittedly wasn’t much.

“I was worried you weren’t coming.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You were almost late.”

I decided to try to ignore her for the rest of the class. That wasn’t in the cards either.

“So, has Rick said anything about me?”

“Which Rick?”

“The good looking one.”

“Ah, Rick No. 1,” I shoved a piece of gum in my mouth and feigned like I was thinking hard. “No, I don’t think so.”

One look at Matilda’s crestfallen face and I actually wished I had lied.

“I don’t see him that often, though,” I offered.

“Why not?”

Because I don’t stalk him like you do.
“Because we have classes.
And I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, you have a boyfriend?” Matilda was looking way too interested in that little tidbit. Crap.

“Yeah.”

“He’s here?”

I sighed as I explained about Will. I told her the bare minimum of information. I couldn’t take much more of this.

Luckily for me – or maybe unluckily – Professor Blake decided to make his appearance at this point. I was relieved when he didn’t even glance my way. Maybe I had imagined everything.

Mr. Blake greeted the class and then sat on the edge of his desk.

“A lot of journalism is about perception,” he said.

I noticed everyone was busily typing on their laptops and
iPads
so I dutifully pulled my
iPad
out – even though I didn’t think Professor Blake had said anything profound yet.

“This isn’t the same news era that your parents grew up in and it’s especially not the same era of news reporting that your grandparents grew up in,” he continued.

“What do you mean?” One of the students in the back row – a girl – was trying to act like she was studiously involved in the lecture for Professor Blake’s benefit.

“I mean, when your parents and grandparents were younger the news business was different. News has changed – and I think the biggest change is that a lot of people look at news for its entertainment value,” he said.

“Can you be more specific?”
The same girl.
She was going to be annoying.

“News broadcasts used to be just about the news. A straight-up rundown of the facts,” he said. “Now, though, you have personalities that slant the news – and it’s not just one news organization. You have news being slanted on both the left and the right – but neither
are
ultimately fair,” Professor Blake glanced at me for a second, but luckily his gaze didn’t linger.

“The advent of the Internet has also radically changed how we report the news,” he continued. “These are the days when everyone has a blog and some people actually think that a blog purports truth.”

“They don’t?” At least another student asked the question this time.

“I’m not saying that they all don’t. I’m saying, though, that blogs are not always researched properly,” he said. “Most of the time, in fact, they’re just opinions. Like movie reviews.”

Professor Blake got up and started pacing back and forth at the front of the room. “Let’s try a little experiment shall we?”

Not waiting for an answer, he turned back to the class. “How many people here believe in ghosts?”

That’s a weird question for a journalism class, I thought. I looked around the room and saw more than half of the hands shoot up. Good grief.

“Good. Put your hands down. Now how many people believe in vampires?”

The same people’s hands shot up. I noticed Professor Blake’s eyes rest on me for a second. It didn’t propel me to raise my hand, though, even though I’d noticed that Matilda had raised her hand to both questions.

“Okay,” he continued. “If Matilda here writes a blog and says that vampires are real, is that news?”

“It depends,” I muttered.

“Did you have something to add, Zoe?”

Crap, he’d heard me. I cleared my throat.
“I said, that depends.”
I was never one to shy away from a debate – even if it was about vampires.

“What does it depend on?”

“Whether or not these vampires sparkle.”
That got a chuckle from everyone in the room except Professor Blake.

“Is it news?” he pressed.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no proof
that vampires
exist and you can’t print something as truth without proof.”

“What if you have proof?”

“Like what?
I a big pile of dust?”

“What if you capture a vampire?”

“I think if someone caught a vampire then reporters from CNN and ABC would be handling the story – not Journalism 101 students.”

Professor Blake frowned at my flippancy. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and met his gaze evenly. I was not going to back down. I didn’t care if I failed.

Professor Blake broke from the staring contest first and then turned back to the class. “Is Zoe right?”

Matilda decided now was the right time to jump in. “If I see a vampire, though, and report on my experience that’s okay though, right? I can even talk to it?”

“
What,
like ‘Interview with a Vampire’?” My patience was running thin.

“Maybe,” Matilda rolled her eyes at me. I noticed a few people around us giving me dirty looks. I had no idea how I had become the bad guy in this scenario.

“If you did get an interview, what would you ask? What’s your favorite blood type?”