Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(8)

Tess tipped her cheek toward Bailey’s. “We’re actually best friends when she cares to claim me.”

Envy nipped at Paige as she watched them hug. “I wish I could’ve been able to do that.”

She missed Kayla already and wished she could’ve convinced her to come to Granton too. But not only was Kayla totally against the idea of Granton, she had no use for any college at all. She’d worked as a waitress ever since she’d graduated from high school and acted as if she was perfectly satisfied right where she was.

Bailey skimmed her gaze over Paige’s still-wet hair. “So you’re the one Tess just caught naked in the shower, huh?”

“Bailey!” Tess squawked, blushing. “Oh my God. How many times have we talked about your subtlety issues? Besides, I didn’t see anything. She had a big, fluffy towel on.”

Not sure whether to duck her head in embarrassment or slap her hands over her ears from the overwhelming inflow of conversation, Paige mumbled, “Yeah, that was me.”

Then her stomach growled, butting in on the conversation, and all three of them laughed. It wasn’t that humorous really, but with these two around, everything seemed suddenly entertaining. She couldn’t recall feeling so carefree in a long, long time.

“Hey, we were about to head down to Gibson Hall and scrounge up some supper,” Tess said. “Want to come with us?”

She murmured her acceptance, even as she swallowed down a rash of tears.

It had been forever since she’d felt like a part of anything. Aside from Kayla, she’d been disjointed from reality since Trace’s death. She hadn’t cared about clothes, or televisions sizes, or much of anything. Tess and Bailey’s overly easy acceptance of her was too touching to properly digest.

Tucking her still-damp hair behind her ear, she snagged her room key and student ID and followed them out the door. She didn’t even remember Logan Xander’s existence until she stepped into the warm evening air.

Then everything came flooding back. With a vengeance.

She faltered behind Tess and Bailey, scanning left and right to make sure she couldn’t spot him nearby.

Bailey glanced back at her and paused. “You coming?”

Not spying the murderer anywhere, Paige nodded and forced a smile. “Uh, yeah. Right behind you.” But when she followed, she did so with reservation, all her carefree emotions from a moment before shattered and blown away.

Baby steps, she reminded herself, as she forced her feet to follow her new friends. If she could get past supper, she would already be closer to attaining her goals.

If, being the key word.





Chapter Four


LOGAN HEADED STRAIGHT to Gibson Hall as soon as he clocked out at the juice bar. He’d worked through lunch, and after serving other people drinks and snacks this afternoon, he was starved.

His muscles ached too. All morning, he’d tensed up every time he’d entered a classroom. After running into Paige Zukowski twice, he’d waited until the last possible second, then slipped in right before the class started to scan the faces first and make sure they didn’t share another course together before he tiptoed to a seat. He’d looked for her when he exited every building and had even held his breath whenever he spotted a dark-headed girl getting into his line at the juice bar.

Almost too hungry and exhausted to care where she was now, he entered the campus’s main student dining hall, ready to visit just about every food station they had to offer. He paused in line at the door to pay his entrance fee. He pulled a thin wad of cash from his pocket, wondering not for the first time if he should’ve roomed in a dorm this year. Meals had been free here when he’d been a dorm resident his freshman year.

But so much close proximity to so many other people had nearly suffocated him. Three years ago, he’d actually been looking forward to living with a large group and maybe trying to get into his dad’s old fraternity. But one fateful night had changed all that. These days, he couldn’t handle crowds. It would be too easy to hurt someone else.

After a year of surviving in the dorms, he’d rented an apartment and rested a little easier with his solitude.

“Yo! Designated Dave,” a voice called as soon as he paid his discounted student price.

Since Dave was what pretty much everyone called him, Logan lifted his face to acknowledge the greeting. Jerod, a member of Phi Gamma Delta, drew near with a welcoming grin, holding out his hand to fist bump with Logan.

Having given up trying to correct people that his name was not Dave, Logan obligingly rapped his knuckles against Jerod’s. “What’s up?”

“We’re having our Fiji Islander this Saturday and need to hire a DD. You in?”

Logan nodded. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have to work at The Squeeze that night, so, I’ll be around.”

He’d purposely asked for the first weekend of school off at work. That was when all the raging parties took place. And there were never enough willing people to stay sober and play the responsible designated driver for them.

“Cool, man. Thanks. You’re a life saver.”

Jerod took off again without sticking around to make small talk. Not that Logan minded. He’d grown used to the whole loner thing. If he didn’t play the dopey DD at every mixer on campus, he doubted anyone would bother talking to him at all or even know who he was—wrong name or not.