Ruin

Chapter Three



I should have left well enough alone



Kiersten

I took a few steps back to examine the number next to the door. “I, uh… is the RA not here? Did you break into her room?”

“One…” He held up his finger. “I’m a bit insulted that you think I’d have to break into a girl’s room to get in. Believe me. I knock, they open, I walk in. It’s as simple as that.”

I bet it was.

“Two…” He held up two fingers. “You’re looking at the RA. Now, why don’t you come in and I’ll explain to you how the whole student ID card thing works.”

Pressing my lips together, I gave him a firm nod and walked into the room. It was clean. Not what I expected from what I’d read about guys and hygiene.

“So…” Weston walked over to his bed and sat. “Let me see your schedule and I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”

I was still processing the fact that he was my RA. “I don’t get it. I could have sworn the Freshman RA was a female.”

“Sex change,” Weston said with a straight face. “I was a confused child.”

“Funny.” I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? I requested an all-girls dorm and got put in a co-ed building, and then my RA is a—” I was going to say hot guy but refrained from embarrassing myself.

“Sex god.” He said it for me. “I know, some people have all the luck.” With a heavy sigh he pulled a chunk of papers from my packet and whistled. “Looks like you’ve got a hell of a schedule. Nineteen credits? No major? You don’t seem like the indecisive type.”

I wanted to tell him he didn’t know me. In fact, I wanted to snap at him. What did he know of my life? My past? My reasons for not committing? As if sensing my anger, my cell went off; I looked at the screen. Uncle JoBob. I called him Jo. He’d been taking care of me for the past two years. Ever since… everything happened.

I pressed ignore. Uncle Jo would flip if he heard a male voice in the background, and Weston didn’t seem the quiet type to me. No, he was a flaunter. Crap, he even looked like he was flexing sitting there, though I couldn’t be sure. He had a long-sleeved white shirt on with ripped jeans.

“So…” He pulled out a pen and scribbled something on the paper. “The campus map is going to be your bread and butter. Don’t get lost, and don’t walk by yourself at night, okay?”

“I think I can handle it.” I snatched the paper from him. “ID card?”

“Right.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I circled the building on the map. Smile bright for your picture, Lamb.”

I grimaced “Are you going to call me that all year?”

“Would you rather I call you something else?” he whispered, his lips close enough to touch mine.

“Um, no thanks.” My voice shook.

“You sure about that?” He stared at my lips. I took a step back, he took another step forward.

“I thought you weren’t into freshmen.” I was backed into a corner, literally. I felt something sharp against my back.

“Maybe I’m changing my mind,” he offered, tilting my chin toward his face. “I always was a sucker for redheads.”

My eyes narrowed. “Strawberry blonde.”

“Redhead.”

“Light red.”

He sighed. “Hate to break it to you, but your hair is red. You’re a red head, not a light red head, not a strawberry-blonde. Accept it, embrace it, love it. Because you’re freaking gorgeous.”

Okay, so that was forward. I licked my lips and mumbled a thanks before ducking away from him and making a beeline toward the door.

“Forgetting something?” his voice came from behind me.

“No?” I froze.

His hands were on my shoulders. Slowly, he turned me to face him and handed the map and my packet to me. “There you go. Remember what I said, no walking alone at night and smile wide.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t try.” His grip tightened on the packet. “Be smart. Walk in pairs. Use the buddy system. Don’t drink things that smell funny—”

“And don’t go into guy’s rooms alone, even if he is an RA.”

His smile fell. “Touché.”

I jerked my packet free from his hands and walked out.

“Use the elevator!” he called after me.

So that was how he did it. Bastard. I looked up. Sure enough there was a sign that pointed to the elevator. I went to press the down button and refused to look back, even though I knew his door was open and he was still staring at me.





Rachel Van Dyken's books