Unspoken (The Woodlands) Read Online Free PDF Page B

parts tightened at the visual of a nearly naked and sweaty Bo. Sasha regularly tried to entice me back onto campus, whereas Ellie was content to join me in my self-imposed exile. Unfortunately, being with me meant no lunch in the commons or the QC Café. No studying in the library. No hanging out at the campus Starbucks. And no group yoga classes where you tried to do downward-facing dog while still sneaking peaks at the jocks working out in the weight room next door.
    Sasha just shook her head. “What’s your project for biology?” she asked.
    “Don’t know,” I admitted. “It hasn’t been shared yet.”
    “He must be rotating,” Brian said. “My bio project was determining which natural disaster would be most likely to result in the apocalypse here in the Midwest.”
    “See!” Ellie shouted. We all jumped at the sharp bark of her voice. “I told you this was all about death and weather. He probably has flying monkey costumes in his office, the sadist.”
    “Brian, were there any monkeys in your class course?” I asked.
    He rubbed his chin, feigning thoughtfulness. “There was this one time when he mentioned that tornadoes were the result of monkey farts.”
    Ellie, Sasha, and I groaned, and Ellie responded by pushing Brian off the stool. I threw a paper towel at him.
    “How can you live with him?” I asked Sasha semi-seriously.
    “We don’t share a bathroom,” Sasha said.
    “And I pay the rent.” Brian looked piously into the distance.
    “There is that.” Sasha sighed.
    “Let’s talk about the most important topic of the semester,” I said. My audience perked up. “Where are we gonna spend spring break?”
    We argued raucously about the merits of going north to ski or south to the beach for the rest of the afternoon. And I tried hard to push all thoughts of Bo, Clay, and Roger to the very back recesses of my mind.

Chapter Four

    AM
    W HEN MY PHONE ALERTED ME to a text message just before I was getting ready to go to bed, I figured it was my mother. Two weeks spent at home had made me ready to flee back to school. For my mother, time spent together at Christmas break only made her more melancholy when I departed. But the message wasn’t from my mother.
    I’m going to put this number to good use. Bo Randolph.
    What was he doing sending me a text message at nine on a Monday night? I debated deleting the message.
    “Bo Randolph just texted me,” I yelled down the hall to Ellie. She appeared like a witch at my door a second later, scaring me half to death.
    “My God, where were you?” I yelped.
    “Looking for my hoops.” Ellie held up large gold earrings. Just outside my bedroom door, our front hall held a mirror and dresser, courtesy of the thrift store, and it had become a repository for all of our jewelry and half our makeup as we dumped things coming and going from the apartment. Most of the time it looked like the sale counter at the mall after the prom rush swept through.
    “Should I reply?”
    Ellie shrugged and pulled her pearl studs out of her ears. “What’d he say?”
    I read her the text.
    “He’s flirting. No guy texts at nine at night with just friendly intent.” Her eyes were bright with interest. I wondered what mine looked like. Probably full of stars.
    “Replying would be encouragement I don’t want to give.” If I told myself that I wasn’t interested enough times maybe I could make it true.
    “Why not?” she challenged.
    I ticked off the negatives. “He’s really good looking. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. He took advanced econ theory apparently just for the hell of it.” Because Clay Howard has a hard-on about me being on campus and is threatening me. I didn’t list the last one out loud.
    Ellie’s mouth hung open. “These are his bad attributes? Give me the phone. I’ll text him back!” She lunged for the phone, but I turned on my side and held it away from her. Ellie’s pixie-sized, and I’m like a horse compared to her. There was