BEAUTIFUL BROKEN MESS (Broken, Series #2)(51)

- Eight -



AUDREY -

As Lane and I leave class and walk to our last one of the day, my feet are dragging and my stomach is rumbling. I’m feeling sluggish and light-headed. I didn’t have time to grab anything to eat this morning on our rush out the door. I barely had time to throw on my clothes while trying to escape Jace. We only have a ten-minute block between the two class periods, and I don’t have enough time to hunt down a vending machine. I still don’t know this campus very well, so I would more than likely end up lost.

“Lane, do you have any food in your bag?” I moan. He usually always carries some around with him wherever he goes.

“I ate it all in class, why?” he responds.

“I’m dragging. I don’t know how I’m going to stay awake in this class.”

“Well, guess you shouldn’t have been getting another taste,” he teases.

“There definitely won’t be anymore.”

“Riiight,” he says sarcastically.

We walk into our Accounting 582 class, Mergers and Acquisitions, which is bound to bore me to sleep. Unfortunately, a nap is unlikely in this small classroom, where professors are more likely to call me out than they were in the auditorium classrooms I’m used to. Despite this, the smaller rooms for the graduate programs are actually one thing I have learned to enjoy.

Lane and I have claimed two seats on the far left of the room, somewhat close to the front. By this time, everyone has already chosen the seats they will sit in for the semester, so I’m surprised when I see items that don’t belong to me on my desk. Although there’s no one in the seat, someone clearly left their to-go coffee cup and a bakery bag on my desk. It must be from a previous class. People are so rude sometimes. How hard is it to clean up your own mess?

When I reach for the trash, I notice that the cup is still warm, too warm to have been sitting here since the previous class. I set it back down and see my name written in black marker on the side in all capital letters. I step away from the desk and point at the cup as if it insulted me.

“Lane… it has my name on it. What does that mean?”

He leans over my shoulder and studies the cup for a couple of seconds. I feel him shrug his shoulders and then he says, “Usually that means it’s for you.” I can hear the amusement in his voice.

I sit down in my seat and study what’s in front of me. Who did this? A quick scan of the classroom proves what I already knew; I don’t know anyone in here. So how could someone have left this for me on my desk?

“It won’t bite you, just drink it,” Lane whispers from his spot directly behind me.

I pick it up and recognize the name of the coffee house that’s printed in red ink on the side. I haven’t tried that one out yet, although it’s not far from my house. Hoping for more clues, I spin the cup around and then see extra script on the back.

I’m so sorry.

I’ll make it up to you, I swear.

Please, don’t write me off just yet.



I already know what the contents of the cup will be before I place it to my lips and swallow the warm, spicy mixture. A chai tea latte. The delicious drink makes me smile and laugh to myself at his gesture. I still don’t have any idea how he knew what class I had today or even that I attend this school, but right now I’m grateful for the gift because this will be my saving grace for the next hour.

I lift the brown paper bakery bag next and unroll the folded top to peek inside. Lying on top is another note.



It’s my fault you didn’t get to eat before you left.