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Authors: Alexi Lawless
Tags: Fiction
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degrees.
“Uh…what’s going on, guys… ?” Rita asked cautiously, eyes bounced between them.
“Happy to help,” he replied, walking passed her. He leaned down at the last moment and whispered in her ear, “Watch your back, pisshead.”
Chapter 5
September—Friday, Late Afternoon
Memorial Student Center, Texas A&M
S A M A N T H A
S am glanced down at her watch as she neared the Memorial Student Center. She hated being late, but her last class had run over, and the professor had a bad habit of leaving homework assignments until the end. Her father and Ryland were probably already waiting for her.
Sam felt happy just thinking about seeing her little brother again. It had only been a few weeks since she’d seen him, but missing Ry was still the hardest thing about transitioning to college life after spending her lifetime caring for her little brother. She’d gone from seeing him every day to once or twice a month, if she was lucky.
As her hand touched the door to the student center, Sam caught her reflection in the glass, her happy mood diminishing. The bruise from Alejandro shoving her face into the ground had bloomed across her cheekbone. She’d tried to cover it up with Rita’s makeup, but the remaining dark smudge was impossible to miss. Her father, with eyes like a hawk, would hone in on it first thing, and Ry would wonder what was going on. She’d have to find a way to explain it without incurring her father’s consternation, or worse, his wrath.
The humiliation of yesterday’s elimination challenge still burned in her gut. She’d basically just laid on the ground, helpless and shaking, while Alejandro threatened her like she was a cowering animal.
Sam looked at the bruise again, her hand tightening on the door. To hell with that . She had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. She’d made it through the elimination round after all, even if by a hair. And Alejandro could go screw himself. Let that bastard do his worst. She wouldn’t bow and scrape to him.
“He can kiss my ass,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders as she opened the door to the student center.
“Hey, Sammy!” Ryland called out, eyes alight with excitement and happiness as he caught sight of her across the lobby.
“Hey, Ry,” she called back, her heart expanding.
“There’s a picture of you!” He practically shouted as he bounded toward her, grabbing her hand and dragging her toward a large student art exhibit before she had a chance to hug him.
Ry stopped in front of a large photograph, and Sam took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his small shoulders, giving him a tight hug that nearly lifted him off his feet. Ryland was still skinny and a little scrawny for a twelve-year-old, but he was so winsome and toothy, it didn’t matter. He wiggled a little, laughing before he managed to squirm away enough to point toward the photo.
“See!” he told her excitedly. “It looks like you—just like!”
Sam looked up, surprised to see a large black and white photo of her walking past the Corp Arches, her dark hair whipping in the wind in a dramatic furl. Her face was indistinct in the shot, but she immediately recalled the day it was taken, the blackening storm surrounding her, just minutes before the rains drenched the plains surrounding them.
Sam released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
It was a stunning photo—artfully done. The dark sky behind her was impressive and forbidding, both gorgeous and breathtakingly dangerous, the clouds a wicked spiral. It was just a moment in time, but it looked almost animated. Like you were almost inside the picture if you stared at it long enough.
Her eyes fell to the nameplate by the photo.
Wesley Elliott.
The beautiful photographer was clearly incredibly talented, and now he had a name.
*
September—Same Time
Memorial Student Center, Texas A&M
W E S L E Y
The fine hairs shot up on the back of his neck as he watched his muse walk
“Uh…what’s going on, guys… ?” Rita asked cautiously, eyes bounced between them.
“Happy to help,” he replied, walking passed her. He leaned down at the last moment and whispered in her ear, “Watch your back, pisshead.”
Chapter 5
September—Friday, Late Afternoon
Memorial Student Center, Texas A&M
S A M A N T H A
S am glanced down at her watch as she neared the Memorial Student Center. She hated being late, but her last class had run over, and the professor had a bad habit of leaving homework assignments until the end. Her father and Ryland were probably already waiting for her.
Sam felt happy just thinking about seeing her little brother again. It had only been a few weeks since she’d seen him, but missing Ry was still the hardest thing about transitioning to college life after spending her lifetime caring for her little brother. She’d gone from seeing him every day to once or twice a month, if she was lucky.
As her hand touched the door to the student center, Sam caught her reflection in the glass, her happy mood diminishing. The bruise from Alejandro shoving her face into the ground had bloomed across her cheekbone. She’d tried to cover it up with Rita’s makeup, but the remaining dark smudge was impossible to miss. Her father, with eyes like a hawk, would hone in on it first thing, and Ry would wonder what was going on. She’d have to find a way to explain it without incurring her father’s consternation, or worse, his wrath.
The humiliation of yesterday’s elimination challenge still burned in her gut. She’d basically just laid on the ground, helpless and shaking, while Alejandro threatened her like she was a cowering animal.
Sam looked at the bruise again, her hand tightening on the door. To hell with that . She had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. She’d made it through the elimination round after all, even if by a hair. And Alejandro could go screw himself. Let that bastard do his worst. She wouldn’t bow and scrape to him.
“He can kiss my ass,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders as she opened the door to the student center.
“Hey, Sammy!” Ryland called out, eyes alight with excitement and happiness as he caught sight of her across the lobby.
“Hey, Ry,” she called back, her heart expanding.
“There’s a picture of you!” He practically shouted as he bounded toward her, grabbing her hand and dragging her toward a large student art exhibit before she had a chance to hug him.
Ry stopped in front of a large photograph, and Sam took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his small shoulders, giving him a tight hug that nearly lifted him off his feet. Ryland was still skinny and a little scrawny for a twelve-year-old, but he was so winsome and toothy, it didn’t matter. He wiggled a little, laughing before he managed to squirm away enough to point toward the photo.
“See!” he told her excitedly. “It looks like you—just like!”
Sam looked up, surprised to see a large black and white photo of her walking past the Corp Arches, her dark hair whipping in the wind in a dramatic furl. Her face was indistinct in the shot, but she immediately recalled the day it was taken, the blackening storm surrounding her, just minutes before the rains drenched the plains surrounding them.
Sam released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
It was a stunning photo—artfully done. The dark sky behind her was impressive and forbidding, both gorgeous and breathtakingly dangerous, the clouds a wicked spiral. It was just a moment in time, but it looked almost animated. Like you were almost inside the picture if you stared at it long enough.
Her eyes fell to the nameplate by the photo.
Wesley Elliott.
The beautiful photographer was clearly incredibly talented, and now he had a name.
*
September—Same Time
Memorial Student Center, Texas A&M
W E S L E Y
The fine hairs shot up on the back of his neck as he watched his muse walk
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