Trophy Daughter

Chapter 19- Fireman's Hose

Nikhil was glaring, but this time not at me. His gaze went past me as he tucked me behind him, anger radiating out of every pore in his body. He stalked forward, a tower of rage in the night and stopped in front of the now halted group of frat bros.  Even in the pitch black, I could see their fear. They all quickly sobered up, terror on their faces as they realized the great Nikhil was standing in front of them.

"You will leave. And you will never talk to her again, or my friends and I will find you. Understand?" 

They nodded their greasy heads, and turned on their heels, sprinting (kind of stumbling) off. Nikhil turned immediately, in front of me in an instant and grabbing the bag I held in a shaky hand. Fear stuttered my heart, relief slowly wrapping like a blanket around me with every second Nikhil stayed close to me. 

And he didn't say a word, no phrases of comfort, no phrases of reproach. All he did was throw my bag over his shoulder and walk beside me, staying close until we got into our dorms. 

_____

After a long night of Russian Tutoring, the next day was one I didn't want to live in. I just wanted to stay in my bed, with the covers over my face and blocking out the responsibilities I had to adhere to. Plus, the fact I had to turn in an assignment that had been literally eating my ass for the past week. 

I rolled out of bed onto the floor and sat there for a few minutes before standing and grabbing a towel. Morning showers were my thing. Nikhil bumped into me as we walked to the bathroom, and while yawning, I noticed he was staring at me. Kind of creepy, kind of cute. 

"What is it?" I mumbled, scratching the back of my head. He was probably surprised I looked like more of a mess than usual. He bit his lip then turned back to the door of the bathroom, walking in and effectively shutting me out. 

Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 

After my shower, I dressed in a pair of jean shorts, one of those baggy, nearly threadbare tops that all girls somehow had in their wardrobes and a pair of knee socks and low cut converse. Sometimes, I wondered if I should try to dress well, since we were on the brim of adulthood and all that, but then I realised- fuck that.

The world can take me in all my hobo glory. Even though I was far from being a hobo.

Maria walked me to class, and I went to my lecturer, handing in the paper copy of my working. He skimmed his eyes briefly over it, bushy brows that only a socially awkward kind of young male had raising, before he put it on the pole pit.
"Very nice,very nice. Have you thought about going on in that exploration for this theorem?" he pointed to a paragraph of working I had done, one that had stretched my wits.

"Yes, but I already wanted to die by that point."

He laughed, nodding in understanding. "I remember those days. Later on in the tutorial, I want you to talk to your group about it. Extend your learning-"

"And you'll extend your satisfaction, yeah Daniel, I got that." I waved him off and his chuckle before going to my seat at the back of the class, flopping down to a familiar head of comatose hair. Except, this morning, he was awake.

Strange. 

The bitter tang of alcohol didn't permeate the air around us either, and I nudged the boy's shoulder. He turned, and wow, what a surprise, he's good looking too. 

A boy next door kind of appearance- that floppy boyfriend hair, perpetually upturned lips, kind, big eyes- he was just...pretty. 

"You're not comatose this morning." 

The boy's cheeks went red and he scratched the back of his head, avoiding my gaze for a few seconds ."...Yeah. I didn't feel like drinking last night."

I scoffed, pulling my laptop out as other students filed in with coffees in hand and eyes dragged down by dark bags. 

"I don't think your liver could have handled it too. Especially since I kept leaving insane amounts of beef jerky next to you."

"That was you?"

I turned back to him, nodding brightly. "Yeah. i've been where you are- much too often- and know how much it sucks when you wake up without salty food and water." 

The pretty boy grinned, showing off a perfect set of pearly whites. "Thank you! I always get obliterated when my boyfriend and I have a fight." 

I passed him a stick of jerky, shrugging a shoulder. "Trust me, in the long run, drinking doesn't solve anything. Alcohol just fucks you up, and then not solving your problems just fucks you over." 

Sheriff Dumas had taught me that. 

The pretty boy nodded thoughtfully, chewing. "You're right. I'm Eric by the way."

A slightly familiar feeling unfurled in my chest- something like warmth at making a new friend. "Waddup Eric. I'm Circe." 

And for the rest of the lecture, we talked about his boyfriend and my penchant to involve myself in trouble with Nikhil.

I didn't mind being constantly in the shit with Nikhil...and we both had a sneaking suspicion that he didn't either.