Shh! (27 page)

“You guys were so happy. What happened?”

“We weren’t right together. It just wasn’t working.”

“Bullshit.”

“Pardon?”

“I know a lie when I hear it, Olivia. It’s got something to do with those dumbassed rumours doesn’t it?”

“They’re true.” My voice came out tiny.

Molly reached across the bed and grabbed my hand, which had begun to shake. “If he dumped you because of that, he’s a jerk that isn’t worth mourning.”

I choked back a sob. “He didn’t.”

“What the what, Olivia?”

“I can’t be with him, Molly. Not with all the issues I have, it just … it isn’t right. I can’t sleep in the same bed as him and not do it. I have absolutely no control, and that sucks. It really sucks. But it’s life, and I have to deal with it.”

She never asked how, or even if I knew if it was real, and for that I was grateful. Instead she pinned me with a penetrating gaze. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

We finished off the entire block of Fruit and Nut, piece by merciful piece. People say chocolate causes the brain to release the same chemicals you experience in orgasm, which was kind of ironic really. But it didn’t make me feel any better, especially when we were left staring at the empty wrapper and my tummy felt a little queasy.

“I wonder if it’s something that’s …” Molly glanced away “… curable. There might be something you can do to fix it. Not that I think it’s a bad thing, I mean it’s just … it’s natural, right?”

“Don’t sugar-coat it. It’s awful.”

“But clearly you’re not happy, Liv. I mean, lots of people probably percolate along just fine and don’t care. It probably doesn’t affect their lives. But you’re not happy … and you hate it. So I wonder … maybe a doctor—”

“No way.” I shuffled back on the bed and pulled my knees into my chest. “I’m not going to sit in a doctor’s office with a total stranger, and talk about touching myself every night. They’ll probably want to do a freaking sleep study or something.”

“My brother had a sleep test before he had his adenoids out. It’s not so bad—”

“You think? They’d watch me. All night.”

Molly flopped back against the wall. “Have you talked to Logan about it?”

“No!” My cheeks flared with heat and I dropped my head into my hands. That would be worse than talking to a doctor.

“Oh, honey.” Molly’s hand curled around my knee. “I think he’d understand.”

“I will not tell him about it.” I clenched my jaw to hold back the building tears. I missed Logan so much, but everything I’d said was true. It would be selfish to expect him to understand.

Molly jumped up and tugged on my hand until I stood too, then she threw her arms around me in the tightest hug. “Whatever you do, I’m here for you.”

She was way too nice. The burning in my eyes overflowed into tears and I rasped out, “I just have to find a way to live with it.”

It was late and we were both tired, so it wasn’t long after that that she went back to her own room. Sometimes I was jealous of Molly and Savvy living in the same block, on the same floor. It would be nice to just walk out my door and knock on either of theirs whenever I felt like a chat, but then if they heard me during the night …

I slipped into my PJs, turned out the lights and climbed into bed. Today had been another long one. It wasn’t the lectures or the assignments, or even the lack of trusted friends that made it drag on, but rather the fear of the night. Fear of where I was right now, lying in my bed, not knowing for certain what sleep would bring. Whether tonight would be the one I’d wake to find people huddled around my door, listening, laughing.

I tossed over onto my back and the sheets rustled. Whatever they did to the laundry here made the things so gosh-darn stiff.

Don’t let it happen.

I rolled onto my tummy and shoved my hands up under the pillow, jamming them as tightly beneath my head as I could. Maybe that would help.

Don’t do it.

My fingers went a little numb.

Just sleep.

In the morning I’d have no idea if I did or didn’t. That was the worst part.

Please, sleep.

And there was no cure.

Only …

Sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The next few weeks were long. Not sleeping made some days feel like weeks, then crashing from exhaustion made others pass in the blink of an eye. Thankfully the times I did sleep, I was so dog-tired that I passed out cold. There was no other option—even the fear that I was making noises for everyone to hear couldn’t fight fatigue.

I went to classes; I went to tutorials; I even submitted assignments. It wasn’t my best work, but it was the best I could manage. Socio was particularly difficult. The first time I snuck in late and sat up the back of the room, but I needn’t have bothered.

Logan never showed.

He didn’t contact me either. Not a single text nor email, not even another wordless message pinned to my door. So why was I so miserable? This was exactly the way I’d wanted it to end, without actually having the talk about that night. But him giving in so easily twisted a pain inside me. It was wrong of me to want him to fight for us when I knew it wouldn’t make a difference, but I still did.

I didn’t spend a lot of time with Savvy or Molly either, despite Molly’s constant drop ins. I was always too busy studying. Grades were of utmost importance. So much so that I planned to stay back during term break to work right through it. I needed to throw everything into my study if I was going to pull the results I needed. Even if I couldn’t get into Deakin Parry anymore, I needed good grades to get a job somewhere.

With a whole afternoon ahead of me I left class, intending to study in the library. I had a major assignment due next week and needed access to the university database. The Law library had been crowded so I bypassed it for Dixon, planning to lose myself in one of the lower, more abandoned levels. As I walked under the bare trees, I stopped.

Sitting on the wall outside the library was Logan. The tall brunette I’d seen him with before was draped over his shoulder like some kind of human mink. He had his grandpa cap pulled low on his head, and his vintage jacket hung open over a black t-shirt. Dark glasses shaded his eyes, so I had no idea if he saw me. I quickly veered off-track and turned back toward the Law building. It was the way I’d come, not the way I needed to go, but the burning pain in my chest was more than I could bear and he hadn’t seen me, so I’d just sneak home the other way and come back to the library tomorrow.

“Liv!”

I guess he had seen me. I gulped a lungful of calming air and squeezed my eyes closed as I kept walking. His feet thudded against the pavement.

“Olivia.” His hand closed around my arm. Thank gosh for the shield of my thick trench coat. “I know you heard me.”

I drew in a shaky breath and turned to meet the guy I still held far too many feelings for. It was one of those stupid movie moments where we both stood, motionless, staring at each other, as if neither one of us could find the right words. Or any words at all.

Logan pushed the glasses up onto his head, and his gaze wandered over me slowly, making me hyper aware of each passing second. My breath caught until his eyes moved back to mine. Boring into me with a steady intensity, they were more bloodshot than a three-day hangover. What in the world had he been doing?

“Liv.” He grimaced, as if I was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. “I want to be better.”

My fingers twisted the hem of my sweater. That didn’t make any sense. He didn’t need to be better; he was already better than I could ever hope for. It was me who needed to improve, needed to be normal. Logan looked me right in the eyes with such desperation I almost flung my arms around him, but I had problems, and that was enough to keep those same arms pinned to my sides.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he said, “Not again … not like her.”

Inwardly, I winced. “Is this about Kayla?”

Recognition flicked in his expression and hurt stabbed at my chest. This wasn’t about me at all. It was about some other girl in his past. And I was tired of hearing her name.

“Liv, I can change. I’m not like that. I’m not like him.”

A rip tore my hem, the force of my fingers unabated as I forced out the clichéd words that in this case were undeniably true, and we both knew it. “This isn’t about you, Logan. It’s about me.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“It was never you that made me unhappy.”

His hand hovered like he wanted to touch my face, but it fell away without contact. “Then why are you so goddamn unhappy?”

Couldn’t he see? Didn’t he know about my nocturnal condition? I dropped my gaze because I couldn’t stand seeing the sympathy in his eyes any more than I could tell him. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Over his shoulder, the brunette hung around the library, waiting for him to come back. She looked slightly peeved, twirling her hair around her finger while glaring in our direction which just made me annoyed because I wanted to be normal too.

“You better get back to your friend.” I turned and walked away, tamping down the ache that consumed me.

****

I enjoyed Sociology far more than any of my Law subjects, which was probably why I worked on the essay rather than my major Law assignment I should have been doing. The essay wasn’t due for another two weeks. The assignment, however, had a submission date of next Friday. Writing about the human condition, and the way we worked, was something fascinating that I could throw myself into without thinking about anything that related to me personally. Law just didn’t offer that escape. My mind constantly wandered. The only problem with Socio was that I always had too much to say. My word count was at five thousand and the limit was three, so I had to cut out the waffle.

Staring at the screen with my chin propped on my hand achieved nothing, so I pulled myself away and grabbed my mug, then shuffled down the hall to our kitchen, and flicked the kettle on. The concrete wall was cool against my back as I leaned against it and pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes.

“Olivia?” Molly’s voice questioned from down the hall.

“In the kitchen,” I yelled back.

She appeared in the doorway and nodded toward the kettle. “Yes, please.”

I grabbed a spare mug from the drying rack, topped it with a tea bag and sugar then sat it beside mine.

“What’s happening?” she said.

“Nothing. Just study.”

She rolled her eyes. “When did you get so boring?”

“Ha!” I cringed at the sound of Ella’s laugh. “She’s always been boring. In high school she used to spend all lunch in the library studying. Move over.” Ella pushed past Molly and into the tiny kitchenette that really couldn’t fit three people. With a flourish, she snatched the mug I’d prepared for Molly off the bench. “This for me? Thanks.”

“Speaking of high school,” Molly said, “some people act like they’re still there.”

Ella’s gaze rolled over my friend’s classic Molly ensemble of a denim miniskirt and pink tights, topped off with a black jumper that sported a giant silver love heart. “And some dress like they’re still five.”

I plucked the cup out of Ella’s hand and filled it with boiling water.

She opened the fridge, grabbed a can of soda and waltzed back down the hall, then stopped suddenly and turned over her shoulder. A smirk worthy of the twelve-year-old her I used to know played across her lips. “What did your parents think of lover boy?”

I frowned, trying to puzzle out what she meant, but before I could she laughed and disappeared into her room.

“She’s a bitch,” Molly said, passing me the made tea.

“Flipping, flapping, freaking … yes! She told my parents about Logan. That day on the phone …” And I was right “… Mum had threatened to cut me off if I didn’t pull through on grades, and blamed it on
that boy
. It’s the only way she could have known. I bet Ella told her mother knowing, no, expecting the gossip mill would take it straight back to my mother.” Honestly, I was surprised Mum hadn’t mentioned the sleeping thing.

“Like I said …”

I stood aside to let Molly pass through into my room first, then pulled the door closed behind us. Molly was right. Ella was a right royal pain in the rear who had deliberately caused another problem for me, just like she’d done all year.

Molly took her favourite spot on my desk and sipped her tea while I moved toward the swivel chair and carefully sat down. Just as I was raising the cup to my lips, I noticed the empty space on my desk. The cup fell from my numb fingers.

My computer was gone.

****

According to the dean there wasn’t a lot we could do. My room had been wide open, so there was no point calling for the cops to print the door. Our dorm was home to more than two hundred people, and there were often more than that onsite because people had visitors, and then there were all the other dorms nearby.

Unless I suspected someone in particular it would be near impossible to locate the thief. Of course, he logged the theft and reported it anyway. The best I could do though, was keep my eyes open in the hope whoever took it would be stupid enough to let me catch a glimpse of them with it. Not exactly easy when it was a black HP, just like so many others. My tablet, a wad of cash and some jewellery also went missing. But it was my computer’s absence that hurt the most. I’d need to start from scratch on that essay, and the Law assignment too, and I had next to no notes, since I’d always used my tablet in lectures. I was doomed to fail again.

I felt sick at the amount of work I’d have to catch up on. The dean promised to write my lecturers to support my plea for extensions, and exemptions, and all sorts of ’sions. It didn’t make me feel any better though. Nor did the fact I was working out of Oxley’s computer lab. It wasn’t a place I’d ever visited before, but I had no option. The computers lining the walls of the ample-sized room weren’t bad, and I could work all right if the other people there worked quietly, which thankfully they were.

I logged into my emails, and there was a reminder from Bethanie that I needed to RSVP, so I flicked back a quick message telling her I’d be there with bells on, but I was passing on the plus one.