The door slid open and Drew stepped inside his dormitory, expecting to see the dull, chipping, coffee-colored walls, with little patches of lighter paint trying to conceal what the previous resident had graffitied in jet black. He expected to see the dull little twin beds, dull little chairs, and the spontaneous green couch tucked in the corner.
And he did. He saw all that. But he did not expect a dark-haired girl perched on his bed, swinging her legs longingly against the bedside.
His heart spared him half a beat and he cried out, “God!” as he instinctively took a sharp step back, slamming the door shut while doing so. “The hell, Mona? You scared the crap out of me.”
Mona rolled her big and soft brown eyes, finger-combing her silky hair calmly as Drew took some melodramatic breaths.
“How did you even get in here?”
“Jonah let me in,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Moreover, where have you been?” she asked, slowing down her swinging legs and hopping off the bed. She sauntered over to the dirty blonde boy. She stopped an inch away from his face and slid one hand down his chest. “I’ve missed you,” she said, low and seductive.
“Mona,” he groaned slightly. It almost seemed like he was about to play along. But then his face broke into a childish grin. “It’s broad daylight and I couldn’t be more sober. It’s not gonna happen, babe.” And with that, he took her hand, which was now feeling his abs, and shoved it back towards her. He pushed past her and kept his cool until he met his bed. Then, he collapsed on it.
Mona offered a pout, another roll of the eyes, and a quiet “Whatever” before she walked back over to the bed, sinking back down into it, her legs pumping into another swing set motion again.
“What are you doing here, Mona?” Drew asked, his voice muffled in a pillow.
“To complain about my lovely roommate.”
Drew gave a dry laugh before flipping over and giving the girl his undivided attention. “What did she do now?”
“She’s unbelievable! It’s enough that she dumped Stephen, but she doesn’t even care!” Mona vented, all riled up. “Three years, Drew, three years. That’s how long they’ve—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Drew interrupted brusquely. “Rewind. Say that again? She did what?”
“She dumped Stephen?” Mona repeated slowly, not sure if this was mockery or not. When she saw the disbelief and confusion in Drew’s eyes, she knew he was completely clueless.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“Well, but, I didn’t.”
Estella Churchill. That was Mona Leonard’s roommate. Besides being Mona’s roommate, Estella was also the head bitch in charge of Beauford University. She was top dog, queen, and also the most materialistic and mean girl you would ever meet. Stephen Bullard was only an accessory to her, but the two of them were Beauford’s icon couple. Both of them had more money than God. Estella and Stephen dating was just common knowledge. It was as simple as two plus two. It was just logical. It was just how things worked.
“But… but,” Drew mustered, trying to work it all out in his head.
“How could you not know?” Mona demanded, and Drew might have even picked out a hint of anger in her voice. “It’s already afternoon. The entire campus knows. Are you just that ignorant of everyone? Besides, Drew, it was all over Facebook!”
The last declaration made Drew snort. “Yes, all over Facebook. Sorry I don’t care enough to check.”
Mona shook her head. “Well, now you know.”
“Why did they break up?”
A sardonic sneer crossed her face. “Because his family went bankrupt.”
Silence drained the room as she let the words sink in. Estella Churchill had dumped her three-year-boyfriend because he lost his money.
“They foreclosed his mansion and everything. Actually,” she finally spoke, breaking the silence, “I think he should be crawling over to you when break comes around. He’ll probably crash at a friend’s house at first, but a friend’s only a friend. He won’t be able to stay there forever.” Mona’s chocolaty irises rolled over to Drew.
Drew Sterling was the poorest kid at Beauford, but he had a big heart. Well, it was mainly his parents who had a huge heart. The Sterlings opened their arms out for people even less fortunate than them. Their house, although small, had people boarding there in every corner. People came and went as they pleased. That was the beauty of it. It was like a mix between a motel and a foster home. If they had nowhere else to go, the Sterling house was their only destination.
Drew only lifted an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be interesting?” he muttered under his breath, but Mona didn’t catch it.
After all, the entire campus must have been in utter chaos and confusion. Stephen was their king. He was the rich, cool kid. The fact that he lost everything overnight was too much for everyone to wrap their minds around. Drew didn’t know if he could process seeing Stephen hanging around his free-for-all home. Would Stephen be able to stand it? Surely a transferal from his mansion to Drew’s three-room house wouldn’t be smooth.
“So, did you say anything to her?” Drew asked in an attempt to avoid talking about it. Due to his parents’ kindness, people automatically assumed Drew was just as welcoming and always asked him for favors. It was annoying, and he didn’t like talking about it.
“Yeah,” Mona replied. “I was really casual about it. I said, ‘Hey, Estella, don’t you think it’s kind of cruel to leave Stephen when he goes bankrupt?’ And she’s not the sensitive type, so she wouldn’t flip. And she didn’t. You know what she said? She said, ‘Like that’s my problem. Thank God. I was so sick of him following me around, anyway,’” Mona mimicked in a high-pitched, snobby voice. “And then she left, to go get her nails done or something. What a bitch!
“Apparently, she knew all along about his financial crisis, and she actually complained to me about how annoying it was when he asked her for money. I mean, I get it, asking your girlfriend for money is pretty lame, but he was desperate! What can you expect…”
Drew started losing interest at this point. It was nice to have Mona come around on occasion, but lately, she’d started making it a regular part of her schedule to drop by and spill out all the things she had against her roommate to Drew.
Why Drew? Why not any other guy? Maybe it was because he actually showed any sign of acknowledgement when a girl talked to him. Maybe he should start acting disinterested and indifferent like all the other guys.
“I love you, Mona, but I still have a job,” Drew suddenly spoke up, interrupting Mona’s mindless ramble of hate. His eyes flickered up at the digital clock. He still had at least thirty minutes until his shift began, but there was no way he was spending the rest of his free time here. No matter how nice of a guy he was.
He rolled off the bed and ambled over to the door, shoved his shoes on, and opened the door. Mona had been speechless ever since he cut her off.
“But I thought your shift started at three—” she had finally spoken, but he was already out the door.
“He’s no better than any hobo off the street now. I will not have my own daughter associated with someone so pathetic they can’t even keep their own money. If only I knew sooner they were in so much debt. Then I’d tell you to break it off with him immediately.”
“Mom, I can’t just break up with him. I love him.”
“You shut up! You love him, you say? Is a murderer capable of loving?”
She froze. She was swallowing, swallowing hard. What was there to swallow? Her throat was about as moist as the Sahara Desert and her tongue was sandpaper. Her heart clenched and twisted.
“Is a murderer capable of loving?”
Estella’s hands, under the table, were coiled so tight, her knuckles were white and she was starting to lose feeling in her already numb hands.
Water.
Somewhere among the dizziness, the erratic heart behavior, the dry throat, Estella registered her need for water. She unclenched one hand and held it up to snap twice—which was rude, but who cared? She was Estella Churchill. She made a name for herself in this town.
She cleared her throat, which hurt seeing as it was torrid. “Water,” was all she said as a waiter came by and left.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the air-conditioned, pastel-colored ice cream parlor was the employee lounge, where the lower staff was enjoying ice cream stolen from the machine. Suddenly, the door swung open, catching the employees off guard. They all scrambled to hide their stolen ice cream before realizing it was just another fellow employee.
“Hey, someone help out. Looks like Parker is taking a really long shit, so we’re missing a server. Oh. Drew, you’re here? Come on, Table Three needs a glass of water.”
“But it’s not my shift yet,” Drew protested.
The employee only stared at him blankly before saying, “Cool. Maybe the old man will add a bonus on your pay for being so eager. Table Three needs a glass of water. Get to it.”
Drew scowled. Even though they were on the same level, all the other employees seemed to harbor a dash of superiority since Drew was the newbie. He had recently been fired as a bartender because… well, that was a different story.
“Be polite,” the employee yelled after him as he left the lounge. “Don’t ruin our image!”
He exited the lounge and fumed as he grabbed a glass and sloppily filled it with ice and water, trying to decide which one was worse: listening to Mona blab on and on or starting his shift thirty minutes early.
He concluded he was in the better situation now, since, either way you looked at it, Drew was getting paid for this.
As Drew neared Table Three, a small booth with plush red chairs, with the glass of water on a murky brown tray, he raised an eyebrow at the auburn hair he saw. It was long, about to her stomach, curled at the ends. In fact, he had seen this hair just this morning. This morning in class, when he sat behind Estella Churchill.
“Your water,” he said as he approached her, taking the glass and carefully setting it on the table. Estella didn’t even blink. She didn’t look up nor did she say a word of thanks. Her pale, shaking hand reached out and snatched up the glass. However, Drew didn’t notice her odd pallor or behavior.
He waited.
Waited for what? Not for a thank-you. But Drew realized that if he just left, he would arrive back at the kitchen feeling disappointed. He wanted to talk to Estella Churchill.
Estella took the water in slow sips, but it didn’t even make a dent in her throat’s dryness. In fact, it did just the opposite. Each drop made her throat even drier. Eventually, she set the glass back down, only to find Drew Sterling sitting right across from her.
She already recognized his face from seeing him around the campus, but her heart squeezed when her eyes landed on his little bronze plaque. It read “Drew” in capital letters.
Drew.
Like her Drew.
Her little Drew that she murdered.