5. DIFFERENT WORLDS

5

DIFFERENT WORLDS

T he long weekend finally arrived, and Charlotte welcomed it with open arms. Her classmates had noticed how on edge she acted after her phone conversation with her new unwanted friend, so after her professors canceled tomorrow's classes due to a busted water main, she delighted in the opportunity to decompress inside the safety of her apartment away from scrutiny.

The air conditioning ran at full blast, fogging the windows with condensation from the high humidity outside. Summer wasn't even officially here yet, and the air felt stifling.

She moved about the kitchen, trying to decide what to have for dinner. Cooking wasn't an attractive option with the heat, plus she didn't think the air conditioner could compete with the stove given how hard it already worked to cool her small studio apartment.

The wilted pink roses in the vase on her kitchen counter sat as a testament to how well the air conditioning worked. She made a mental note to contact the building manager about maintenance on her unit on Monday. Nothing they would do about it on a Thursday night, and it was harder to get them to come in on a Friday than convincing a toddler to eat vegetables.

Takeout would be easier, but she didn't have the money. At least, not money she would spare on takeout.

Treating herself to a movie with Rachel and Noah on Wednesday as a compromise to get more acquainted with Athens had met the quota she set for frivolous expenses for the week.

Her parents weren't rich, but they did well. Well enough that they sent her pocket money to live on to sustain her outside of what grants provided for living and school expenses. She wanted to make sure it lasted for the month, so she limited herself in areas where she had alternatives. Like cooking over takeout.

Opening the refrigerator, she looked for items to make a sandwich, but there wasn't much in there. Milk, a few condiments, yogurt… She was due for a grocery run for the essentials soon.

She huffed in frustration. She needed to cook. If she didn't, her medicine would make her sick. She refused to skip dinner for that reason alone.

Eyeing the jasmine rice and container of diced chicken leftover from two days ago, she decided on fried rice. She grabbed the eggs, a carrot, and the leftover essentials.

After cleaning the kitchen, she moved over to sit on her loveseat with a steaming bowl of chicken fried rice. She bundled her long curly hair on top of her head, securing it with a clip, and turned on the TV, navigating to Netflix. She didn't want to watch a movie, but if she started a series, she would binge it and not sleep. Not that she got much sleep in recent nights anyway between the janky air conditioning and every little bump in the night startling her awake when she normally slept like the dead .

She frowned while browsing through her options. What's with all the stalkery shows? Not what she needed right now.

Settling on a series based on a Stephen King novella, she tucked into her rice bowl and propped her bare feet on the coffee table.

She was three episodes in when her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her, rattling her empty bowl. Picking it up, she smiled and hit the button to answer the FaceTime call.

Aiden's wide green eyes greeted her. "Are you naked?"

She laughed at his strangled voice and pulled the spaghetti strap of her tank top over her shoulder that had slipped down. "No. I'm wearing pajamas." She shifted the camera down. She wore a baby blue tank top with cotton shorts in the same color, with white stripes and a cute white ribbon tying the waist. "It's hot here, but not enough to go naked." She would never answer the phone naked. She squinted. "Are you naked?"

A warm chuckle filtered through the tiny speaker, and he shook his head. "Nah. I'm wearing joggers." He panned the phone down like she had; he had a lot more skin on display than she did. She didn't see much because he moved to sit back on his bed, putting his back to the wall with his legs outstretched in front of him, ankles crossed. The camera moved back to his face. "Just got out of the shower."

Now that he mentioned it, she noticed his dark hair appeared shinier and messier than usual, likely still damp.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

Pausing the TV, she stood and took the empty bowl into the kitchen and placed it in the sink, holding the phone in front of her. "Probably staying in the apartment. I need to put a work order in to get the air checked, but it's still cooler than outside." She panned her phone to the sliding glass doors on the other side of her living room. "See the moisture on the windows?" She struggled to see her potted plants on her balcony through the condensation.

"It's hot here too, but at least the dorms are temperature controlled. Riley wants to go back to Tybee Island once summer break starts."

She groaned. "I would kill for a trip to the beach again."

"Well, if you decide to come home, you know you can join us."

She pushed off the counter and walked toward her room. "Yeah, I know." Though she wasn't sure she would come. She didn't contribute to the food or drink budget the last time they went, and she felt like a freeloader for it. She picked up the paper with class options off her desk. "I talked to my advisor, and she gave me a list of options available for transferring programs, but I'd have to finish out this course load to keep my grants if I wanted to do that."

"So you're staying?"

"Well, some of them can be done online, but I have to finish out this last presentation with my group first."

She had struggled with the decision for days, going back and forth with the pros and cons of leaving versus staying. Every time she thought she had her answer, she changed her mind. She knew in the end it wouldn't help her situation if she allowed someone to run her off if she had any intention of returning. The whole situation would wait for her return.

She sighed. "I think it's better if I stick around."

It stood to reason that whoever kept sending her roses, following her for as long as they had, and now calling her, wouldn't stop if she took a break. Like the man said, leaving Athens would change nothing.

The recent direct contact made her consider getting the police involved, but she wasn't sure they would do much over a phone call and flower deliveries. It's not like she could prove someone was following her—she only saw someone one night .

"If that's what you wanna do," Aiden said, pulling her back from her thoughts. "Don't push yourself. Sara told me how you haven't been away from home much." His black brows lowered. "You sure you're alright? I mean, the last couple times we talked…" His face pinched as if he were searching for the words. "You look tired. Are you sure things aren't too much?"

If you only knew.

"I don't mean to upset you or anything, but I think I've gotten to know you well enough to at least see the difference in how you were before you left here and now. You seem stressed out lately, and we don't even play games anymore." He reached up and scratched his face where black stubble ghosted across his skin. He usually remained clean shaven, but the light dusting of stubble peppering his sharp jawline suited him. "For a bit there, I wondered if you were getting sick of me or something." He laughed, but concern filled his sheepish expression, and his laugh lacked his usual humor.

"Oh no, not at all." She let out a heavy exhale. "This project has been rough on me, but we just wrapped up the major stuff, so all that's left is presenting it." She sat on the edge of her bed. "I miss playing games. I haven't even had time to play by myself."

Charlotte grew up playing different types of games, but her favorite was indie horror. When Blaire told her that Aiden was a huge gaming nerd, she felt so giddy. They bonded over their mutual love of video games, and she missed the times they played together.

Gaming was common among the guys she knew but making friends with them proved difficult. Whenever she joined a public lobby and spoke in voice chat, the mood shifted, and the jokes and comments escalated from misogynistic to sexual in the blink of an eye. If she had a dollar for every time someone said girls don't play "real games" or requested an OnlyFans link… They didn't even know wh at she looked like.

"What if I came up this weekend? I could bring my laptop. I wanna show you this co-op horror game."

"What's it called?"

"Lethal Company."

"I heard about that one. I watched some YouTube videos of people playing it. It looks fun."

"Then why don't I come up?"

Charlotte looked at her bed and then around the room. There wasn't a place for him to sleep. Had he forgotten? He helped move her in.

As if reading her mind, he said, "I could come up for the day Saturday or Sunday and leave that night. It's only a few hours away."

His shoulder lifted in a casual shrug like it wasn't a big deal, but she hated the idea of him driving four hours to only stay for a little while and then drive back. Hanging out with her wasn't worth all that, and she said as much.

"Look, I'd rather spend the day running away from monsters with you than shopping with my sister." He smiled when she laughed in response. "Seriously. If I don't get out of here, I'm going to go mad. It's too hot to stay outside long. Lukas is up Blaire's ass, and ever since Seth and Riley got together and he changed dorms—"

"He moved out? Why? Did you two have a fight?"

Aiden pulled air through his teeth, grimacing. "Not exactly. I wasn't supposed to mention that last part." He exhaled. "He's sharing a dorm room with Riley."

Charlotte's face screwed up in confusion. "Come again? Administration is okay with that?"

"Things are different here at Blackthorn," he said then fell silent.

She fell back onto her bed with a loud huff. Once again, they iced her out of knowing anything. She closed her eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." She opened her eyes. As much as she tried, she couldn't mask the flat sound to her tone.

"Look," he said, a tightness in his voice. "the admins here don't care about students sharing dorm rooms. Their gender doesn't matter." He rubbed a hand over his face and then lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Things aren't exactly conventional around here."

She studied him. He looked tense with his drawn brow and the constant rubbing at the side of his neck. She cut him a break.

"It would be nice if more schools were so lax."

His hand dropped. "What?"

"You know, the loose rules about roommates."

Lines formed between his brows as they pulled together. "You have someone you want to room with?"

"Well, no. Besides, I have an apartment. I can let whoever I want live with me. Though I only have the one bed, and the entire place is basically open concept besides the bathroom, which, you know. It wouldn't work."

Aiden's shoulders lowered, and his expression softened.

"Anyway, what were you saying about him and Riley getting together?"

She hoped Aiden wasn't against it. Riley'd had a thing for Seth since they were kids but didn't know Seth felt the same. Even with how little Charlotte knew of them when they met, it was obvious they wanted one another. It would break Riley's heart if her big brother opposed.

"Not at all. It's about time those two got their heads straight." He chuckled. "I just meant that now that he's gone and I'm in this room by myself like I used to be the last school year, I'm bored out of my mind. I'm kind of the fifth wheel."

"What about Layla?"

"She and I aren't really close. Plus, she isn't always around. She's more Blaire and Riley's friend anyhow." He shook his head.

Her phone alerted her to another call.

Unknown.

"Nope." She pressed the button to end the interrupting call.

"Nope?"

"Wrong number."

She wasn't about to tell Aiden about the man who called her. She didn't even know if he was the caller, but she doubted telemarketers called at nine at night.

The phone alerted her again, and she groaned, ending the interfering call.

"What's going on?"

"They're just calling back. No big deal."

"Maybe it's important."

"Doubt it. God, it's hot."

Again, her phone interrupted their FaceTime call.

"Oh my god, hang on." She sprang up and accepted the call, snapping, "What?"

The familiar deep voice from before tsked and said, "Is that any way to answer a call?"

"What do you want?"

Humidity made her top stick to her skin. She hated it and it made her irritable. Irritable enough she didn't register the danger on the other line—or at least didn't care.

"I want you to answer me when I call you." The man's voice rumbled through the phone, angry and harsh. He didn't appreciate her tone. Too bad .

"And I want you to never call me again." She pressed the end call button to reconnect to Aiden. "Sorry about that," she said, flopping back on the bed again. She rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand.

"Everything good?"

"Huh?" She waved a hand. "Oh, yeah, it was nothing."

"You look frustrated."

"I'm just hot and uncomfortable. I can't do much else other than walk around naked or live in a cold shower."

When he chuckled, she grumbled and sat up, and her clip popped off her hair. She put the phone against the pillow so she could fix it. If the humidity didn't ease up soon, it wouldn't be long before she resembled a shorter-haired version of Merida from Brave . She couldn't imagine having hair down to her hips.

Maybe it was time for a haircut.

Over the last year, she let it grow out until the curls reached her bra line. It was the longest it's ever been. The added weight from the length kept her hair from becoming a super poofy riot of curls—but in high humidity, frizz was unavoidable.

A loud crash on the other side of the apartment made her startle and look away from the phone still propped against her pillow.

"What's wrong?"

She looked back at the screen. "Did you hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything. What's going on?"

"I think something fell. Hang on."

She climbed off the bed and moved to her nightstand, opening the drawer.

Her ma gave her a small container of pepper spray disguised as perfume before they left her at the apartment when she moved in . "Just in case," her ma said. Charlotte laughed it off then, like so many other warnings. Like the ones from her neighbor about living alone .

Clutching the pepper spray, she moved out of the nook where her bed sat into the area that divided the living space from her bedroom. Standing in front of the laundry room door, she didn't see anything amiss, but she didn't have the full view of her living room.

Rattling, like someone was trying to open her sliding glass doors, broke the silence.

She tightened her grip on the pepper spray and drew in a lungful of air, calling out to whoever waited around the corner. "I've got pepper spray and I know how to use it!" Her voice cracked, betraying her.

The false bravado died with her last words, laying her fear bare for anyone to hear. "Keep it together," she muttered to herself, hoping that if anyone was listening, they wouldn't hear her weak attempt at a pep talk.

As she crept into the living room, the sight that greeted her made her legs weak and her knees buckle. She braced her hand on the wall for support. Two things registered in quick succession…

One, on her coffee table lay a single pink rose. And two, the glass doors to her balcony were open.

She rushed across the room to the door, hoping no one was waiting on the balcony for her. Slamming the door and locking it, she peered down at the terrace through the condensation. A flower pot she had on the railing lay smashed on the floor—the reason for the crash she heard.

Drawing the curtains closed, she rushed back toward her bedroom, ignoring the rose. It would seem her new "friend" didn't appreciate being ignored.

How did he get in so fast—or at all? Had he been waiting on the balcony and called her from there? Had she forgotten to lock the balcony door after watering her plants earlier? Had he come through the front door, and she missed it while in the shower? It was a lot easier to climb down from a balcony than it was to climb up to it.

The questions whirled around inside her mind, and she didn't have an answer to any of them. She only knew for sure that someone came into her apartment uninvited. Someone invaded her personal space.

"—lotte? Hey, Charlotte. What's going on? Are you okay?"

She jerked and pivoted toward the pillow. She'd forgotten she still had Aiden on FaceTime, and she didn't know how long he'd been trying to get her attention while she sat on the edge of her bed having an internal freak out.

"Charlotte?"

"Shit—I mean, shoot." She struggled to hide the tremor in her fingers as she turned on the bed and picked up her phone. She tossed the pepper spray back in the drawer before moving back into the living room.

"What are you doing?"

"Just hang on."

She set the phone on the coffee table, leaving Aiden facing the ceiling, and pushed it across the floor. Next, she went to the side of the loveseat and pushed it toward the sliding glass doors, turning it to block the length of the glass. If someone wanted in, they could climb over the couch if they wanted, but she wouldn't make it easy for them. This setup would alert her to the noise they would make breaking in, giving her enough time to get out the front door.

She scratched her head, fluffing her hair into a mess as she caught her breath. "Maybe it's time to talk to the police." She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh that puffed her cheeks out.

"Charlotte!"

Her eyes flew open. Crap. She'd forgotten Aiden again. Snatching up the phone, she held it up in front of her, brushing her curls off her sweaty face. "Hi. Yes. I'm here," she breathed, forcing a smile. "Sorry about that."

"What in the hell is happening over there? You're starting to freak me out. What about the police?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"So, what's going on? Why do you keep leaving the phone? You're out of breath." The concern on his face made her chest tighten. His brows drew together. "Is your couch in front of the balcony?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Uh, yeah?"

"Okay. You've gotta tell me what's going on." He knocked his head against the wall behind him. "I'm worried about you," he added in a softer tone.

She closed her eyes. "Please don't worry. You know I'm not used to being away from home. The heat's getting to me. It's really nothing."

"And the police?"

"I didn't say anything about the police," she fired off fast, averting her gaze. "Listen, I'm tired." She looked back at the screen. "I think I'm just gonna take another cold shower and turn in. Call me tomorrow?"

The corners of his mouth turned down. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want." He took a deep breath and released it. "Try to get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow." He smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Aiden."

She didn't miss how his smile dropped, and his jaw clenched right before he disconnected the call. He didn't believe her, but he refrained from calling her out on lying.

What could she say to him?

If she told him someone broke into her home, he would drive all the way to Athens to help her in the middle of the night. Aiden was a protector by nature. She knew that. From the moment they met, he seemed on a mission to save someone. He was the first to approach her about Blaire's whereabouts and was the first to suspect the TA's involvement in the kidnapping.

From what she heard from Blaire before that happened, Aiden had helped her boyfriend, Lukas, when they first got together. It seemed Lukas had issues with commitment, and Aiden helped him with those issues. Riley said Aiden also helped both her and Seth but didn't elaborate on it.

Blaire had laughed at Charlotte when she referred to Aiden as an "alpha knight," but that's what he acted like. He embodied strength and protectiveness. He was the chosen leader of their group of friends. They all called him the big brother of the group, but that sounded weird to Charlotte. She never called him that.

She didn't want Aiden as a brother.

Her face screwed up at the thought. She couldn't picture it.

They flirted a little before she left for Athens, but it was all in good fun. Nothing came of it. She doubted he ever felt anything for her. She couldn't feel anything for him.

They came from two different worlds.

His world held money and status, if the rumors of Blackthorn Academy families were to be believed. Her world held a public university, grants, possible future loans, and mental illness.

Other than the crazy TA who wasn't at the academy anymore, she doubted he had to deal with weirdos like the one who broke into her home in his gated world. The security had to be top-notch.

Laughing to herself, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

She at least knew the money part of his world was accurate. Riley's shopping addiction rivaled her gaming addiction. Only one of them could actually support the habit, and it wasn't her.

After taking her medicine, she moved into her bedroom, now armed with a chef's knife from the knife block on her counter. It was still early, and she didn't want to take another shower, even though she felt sweaty and gross. It wouldn't matter when toweling off would only make her sweat again.

She sat on the edge of her bed, placing the knife on the nightstand within arm's reach of where she slept.

Going to bed early wouldn't kill her. She needed to get up early anyway to go file a report at the police station. So much for a long weekend.

She couldn't continue living this way.

She needed total darkness to sleep; but tonight, every light in her apartment remained on. Until the police caught whoever broke into her apartment, it would stay that way.