In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(9)

When the seventy-five minute class was up, he dismissed them, hinting that their might be a pop quiz on the material he had covered in the near future.

Lauren’s next class was American Literature which was well across the campus. It took nearly fifteen minutes to walk there, but as Lauren drifted through the crowds of students, not one gave her that worrying stare. For once, she was anonymous. Not the girl with the murdered father, just an average nobody and she couldn’t be happier.

This particular class was eventful. Their professor—a woman that looked oddly like a gypsy courtesan rather than an academic teacher—asked them to introduce themselves and share a bit about their background.

It was fascinating, seeing all the different students from all over the world in one class. Living smack dab in the middle of the USA, Lauren had never met such a diverse group before.

With her classes over for the day, Lauren headed back to her apartment, speaking to Amber who was in her customary spot in front of the window, before retreating to her bedroom and collapsing on her bed.

She would have to get used to waking up at the crack of dawn every other day, but until then…

Lauren snuggled beneath her comforter and drifted off.





Chapter three:


The Group


The end of the first week of school came sooner than expected, and Lauren was glad for the reprieve. She already had a paper due for her History class, and an upcoming quiz on Wednesday for Art History that she knew she would need to study for.

But she was more nervous about meeting Amber’s friends than she was about the work for school. She could study for quizzes, research important facts for the paper, but there was no way to truly prepare to meet a group of people and get them to like you. Maybe she was psyching herself out early, but it was kind of important to her, especially since she would probably be seeing a lot of them at the apartment.

Every week—or every other week when everyone couldn’t make it—Amber hosted dinner at the apartment. Whether it be takeout from one of the dozens of Chinese restaurants, or greasy, three thousand calorie burgers that the guys favored, they all got together to hang out.

Amber was an excellent cook—learning all of her tricks from her mother who loved to browse recipes online. Lauren appreciated it, especially since the best she could do was make ramen noodles.

Tonight she was making enchiladas, the kitchen smelling of ground beef and melted cheese, the entree waiting in the oven for the others to arrive.

“Stop worrying,” Amber called from her spot on the couch, shaking her head as she watched Lauren leave her bedroom for the third time, her anxiety tangible. “They’re not all that amazing, believe me.”

“I’m fine!” She wasn’t. She had changed her clothes at least a dozen times since she learned that’s Amber’s closest friends were stopping by.

As she contemplated making one last dash for her room, just to make sure she looked okay, there was hammering on the door, like an army was trying to break through.

Amber scowled, rolling her eyes. “The cavalry.”

She pulled the door open, speaking warmly to everyone as she ushered them inside and over to where Lauren sat on the sofa, though one of the three guys lingered next to her. They all smiled and spoke before she made the introductions.

“Guys, this is Lauren, my new roommate. Lauren, this is Matt.”

Matt was lanky with a mop of curling brown hair and navy blue eyes, hidden behind a pair of black framed glasses. He was the shortest of the three boys and had a very endearing smile as he came forward to shake Lauren’s hand. He had on a graphic tee with a logo about computers, cargo shorts, and a pair of battered converse.

“And my boyfriend Rob,” she said gesturing to the one standing next to her.

Rob was the only one that was dressed up a bit, wearing a blue and white striped button-down and tie, with a pair of black slacks. His hair was expertly styled, with a part down the side, the wavy strands brushed back from his face. He looked a bit older than everyone else, maybe late twenties, and held himself a bit stiffly, but seemed friendly enough as he gave a short wave.

“Tristan…”

Now Tristan seemed to be the wild card of the group. He had that starving musician look: ripped jeans, scuffed boots, and a t-shirt with an unreadable logo from too many washes across the front. Dirty blonde hair hung in disarray just below his ears, and the most peculiar feature about him were his eyes. One was green, but the other only had a spot of the color near his pupil, the rest a beautiful sky blue. When he moved forward to pull her into a hug, Lauren noticed the tattoos across the back of both hands, the bones perfectly outlined in black ink.

“And finally, this is my cousin, Piper.”

Piper was pretty in the classical sense with pale skin, a smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks, vibrant ginger hair spiraling to the small of her back. If she wasn’t a model, Lauren would think that she was wasting her potential. She wasn’t overtly tall, but her heels made her legs appear longer. She had a perfect hourglass shape, and seemed to know just how good she looked by the way she carried herself. She smiled, but made no move to come near Lauren.

“Food will be ready in a minute.”

Rob followed Amber into the kitchen, offering his help. Piper picked up the remote to the flat screen and began flipping through channels lazily as she rested her chin in her hand. Matt and Tristan came around to sit, both collapsing down at the same time like it was choreographed, but while Matt tried to strike up a conversation with Piper, Tristan moved closer to Lauren.