Chapter 14

To my confusion and relief,Roman drops me off at Rush House, then speeds off without a word. I walk through the front door, passing a bunch of people. A couple of the guys, Jackson and Christian, look like they're just arriving or leaving with several girls trailing behind them down the hall.

I think I see Nathan, too, but I don't stop to talk to anyone. I'm too shaken by what just happened with Roman. I head straight up to his room, which is where he said all my stuff is.

Yup.

There are a dozen boxes stacked on top of eachother in the corner of the room, each one labeled—books, toiletries, clothing, etc. I rip open the clothing box, and dig a tank top out, and a pair of gray sweatpants, then change into them.

I'm about to crawl into Roman's oversized bed, when there's a knock on the door. If it's one of Roman's bros, I swear I'm going to scream. I just can't deal with all the toxic masculinity right now. I'm tired.

"Yeah, hold on." I walk to the door and wrench it open, prepared for a fight, when I see Wyn on the other side of the door. I deflate immediately. "Oh, hey."

"Hey, girl." She walks in, glancing around the room. "Wow, I didn't believe it when I heard, but then I saw you breeze by downstairs. Did you really move in?"

"Yes," I say, then shake my head. "I mean, no. Roman stole all my stuff and brought it here, then had the locks changed on my dorm room."

She nods, walking around to admire Roman's massive room. She plucks a book off one of his built-in bookshelves and inspects it. "Sounds about right."

I lift my arms, floored by her nonchalance. "That doesn't seem the least bit crazy to you?"

She shuts the book, and returns it to the shelf, then turns to face me. "Oh, crazy, sure. His whole family is nuts. Doesn't surprise me in the least, though."

"See," I say, pointing at her. "This is why Roman and his crew get away with anything and everything under the sun. People just accept their crazy behavior."

She plops down into an armchair by the fireplace. "The whole school saw you with Ash. You knew he couldn't let that stand."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Are you actually defending him?"

"Oh, God, no," she laughs. "Roman and his guys are assholes. They should all be dragged out onto the street and shot. I'm only part of their circle, because—" She cuts herself off. "Well, I have my reasons…"

I pause, wondering what that reason could possibly be, but it doesn't look like she's in the sharing mood, so I decide not to push it.

"Let me ask you something," Wyn says. "What is it you really want, Lux?"

I press my lips together, unsure how to answer that question. I haven't thought about what I want in a really long time. Even coming to this school wasn't what I truly wanted. By some miracle, I'd won a full scholarship here, and that made the decision for me. I was so desperate to get out of Fresno and start fresh that I jumped at it.

I shrug, reaching for the most honest answer. "I want to find Bree. And I want a fresh start. I don't know, maybe I need to leave ExU. Everyone here is bat-shit crazy." I pause. "Except you, of course."

She doesn't seem offended, thank God. She just purses her lips, and nods, like she's formulating a response. "If you want to leave, then why not just leave? You don't have to be enrolled in ExU to find your friend."

I push out a breath. "Yeah, true, but leaving without her…I don't know, it would feel like a betrayal. We've always done everything together."

My thoughts are cast back to Bree and me arriving on campus—the pure excitement on her face—and my chest constricts. Bree has been my only constant in a lifetime of chaos. There's no way I could leave ExU without her.

"Then you need to learn how to use this–" Wyn opens her arms, indicating the room. "–to your advantage."

I blink at her. "What do you mean?"

I've tried using Roman to get information about Bree"s disappearance, but that kinda backfired. Roman isn't easy to manipulate, and his presence in my life has only managed to complicate things a million times over.

She smoothes a strand of chestnut hair away from her face and smiles at me like she has all the answers of the universe. "You've just gotta play it cool. Listen, your status as Roman's consort affords you a ton of opportunities on this campus. You're a part of the ruling class. Don't fight against it. Use it."

I push out a breath, and plop onto the edge of Roman's bed. "It's not that simple. The dynamic between Roman and me is…complicated, and I can't just switch that off."

I know for a fact that if I give into Roman, and all of his demands, he will consume me entirely. The fight in me is the only thing keeping my head above water when it comes to him.

She clicks her tongue. "See that's where you're confused. You don't need to turn it off, you need to lean into that dynamic between the two of you." She stands up, and walks to the door. "Trust me, guys really are simple creatures. If you can give Roman what he needs, then I swear to you, he'll be eating out of your hands. You just have to figure out what that need is. ‘Know thy enemy,' and all that…"

My thoughts flash back to the car, to that look of shock and satisfaction on his face when I had him by the throat.

"Anyway, I just came up to check on you," she says before leaving. "Enjoy your new digs. They're pretty sweet."

As soon as she's gone, I push out a sigh, and lay back on the mattress, staring up at the ornate plaster molding on the ceiling. Maybe she's right. Maybe I should stop fighting this thing between Roman and me. But then again, there are things about me Wyn doesn't know. Reasons why I resist Roman's control. There's just something in me that can't submit to him. Not completely.

But maybe she has a point. Know thy enemy.

Isn't that the famous quote by Sun Tzu from The Art of War? Not just compelling words. Fucking facts. Especially in this town.

Freshly energized, I get up off the bed, and move around Roman's massive bedroom. I hadn't really taken it all in before, but now I see it with new eyes. One entire wall is just built in bookshelves, filled from floor to ceiling with gold-embossed spines.

I remove a book from the shelf, The History of the World. It's a leather hardback with gilding around the edges—it looks old, and very expensive.

I gather the book against my chest, and move to Roman's desk, which is tucked into its own little alcove. The surface is covered with piles of paper, a laptop, and about a dozen empty energy drink cans. I sift through the papers—assignments from his various Computer Science classes, which I find interesting, because it indicates he's actually doing some work, at least. He's not just coasting on his family's legacy—not entirely, at least.

A bright pink sticky note catches my eye. It's half-buried under a bunch of class notes.

FCJ. 984321.

What is this? It might be nothing, but it snags my curiosity. I open the book and shove the note inside, moving along. I look under his bed, inside his closet, inside his dresser, and it's all just boring boy stuff. No pictures, no personal journals, nothing interesting, or particularly telling, except that he wears boxers—which I already knew—and has an unreasonable number of flip flops.

I walk over to my backpack and pull my laptop out, then plant myself on his bed with the sticky note. Let's see what FCJ means. Maybe it can help solve the complex puzzle that is Roman Rush.