The Color of a Promise (The Color of Heaven Series Book 11) by Julianne MacLean
Authors: Julianne MacLean
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it back.
He stared at me long and hard without saying a word. I felt trapped up against the door and my heart began to pummel my ribcage. There was something menacing about him that morning, and I couldn’t say I’d been blind to it before. I’d always suspected some cruelty was there, simmering beneath the surface of his charm, but I’d chosen to ignore it because I was having fun most of the time, when he was charming.
Today, however, I felt uneasy. Swallowing hard, I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. A muscle at his jaw twitched and a vein pulsed above his left eyebrow. He almost looked as if he might wrap his hands around my neck and choke me.
I glared at him, as if daring him to try something, praying he would step back.
Finally, he scoffed and turned away. I let out a deep breath as he flopped onto the bed and stuffed the earbuds into his ears again.
“You were a bore anyway,” he said callously, closing his eyes and drumming the air. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I replied. “Have a good life.”
Knowing he hadn’t heard me because his music was so loud in his ears, I quickly turned, whipped the door open and hurried out into the corridor, where I smelled marijuana on the air, coming from one of the other bedrooms.
What was I doing there? How could I have thought this was where I was meant to be?
Dashing down the stairs, I reached the ground floor and ran outside to the street, not stopping until I made it to the sidewalk.
I didn’t look back at the frat house as I walked briskly back to my dorm. Part of me was afraid Kyle might be watching me from the window. I certainly didn’t want him to think I was harboring any regrets about breaking up with him, because if someone turned back the clock, I would do it again in a heartbeat.
My only regret was that for a few, irretrievable months, I’d lost sight of what mattered to me most—my studies, and the career I so desperately wanted.
Chapter Twelve
That night, I sat at the desk in my room, studying with intense focus. The material, which I’d been ignoring all semester, covered fundamental laws of thermodynamics, waves and optics. I had to write this exam in less than thirty-six hours. At this point, every minute counted.
Coffee was a necessity. By 11:00 p.m., I was draining my third cup, staring into the empty bottom and wondering if I should make another. My logical brain weighed the pros and cons of that option. If I drank another, I probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until dawn, and I knew the dangers of sleep deprivation to the human mind. I certainly didn’t want to arrive at my exam with the shakes or an inability to focus. Sleep was important, so I tossed the cup into the trash can and reached for my water bottle instead.
A knock sounded at my door. Feeling slightly perturbed at the interruption, I rose from my desk to answer it.
As soon as I opened the door, my stomach dropped.
There stood Kyle, with red, puffy eyes, smelling of whisky. He was swaying on his feet, and I knew immediately that he was completely plastered.
“Meg,” he sobbed, running a hand through his tousled, greasy hair and staggering to the side. “I’m sorry for what I said. You’re the best, most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. You’re not a bore.”
At that moment, two doors swung open across the hall, and my neighbors leaned out to peer at me with annoyance. I couldn’t blame them. It was exam week. No one had much patience for noisy drama in the hallway.
“Sorry,” I said to them. “We’ll be quiet.” I grabbed Kyle by the wrist and pulled him into my room, shutting the door behind us. “People are trying to study.”
He staggered toward my bed and fell face first onto it. For a few dire seconds I simply stared, worrying that he was going to pass out there for the entire night, and feeling positively enraged that he had come here, drunk, when we both had exams to study for. All
He stared at me long and hard without saying a word. I felt trapped up against the door and my heart began to pummel my ribcage. There was something menacing about him that morning, and I couldn’t say I’d been blind to it before. I’d always suspected some cruelty was there, simmering beneath the surface of his charm, but I’d chosen to ignore it because I was having fun most of the time, when he was charming.
Today, however, I felt uneasy. Swallowing hard, I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. A muscle at his jaw twitched and a vein pulsed above his left eyebrow. He almost looked as if he might wrap his hands around my neck and choke me.
I glared at him, as if daring him to try something, praying he would step back.
Finally, he scoffed and turned away. I let out a deep breath as he flopped onto the bed and stuffed the earbuds into his ears again.
“You were a bore anyway,” he said callously, closing his eyes and drumming the air. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I replied. “Have a good life.”
Knowing he hadn’t heard me because his music was so loud in his ears, I quickly turned, whipped the door open and hurried out into the corridor, where I smelled marijuana on the air, coming from one of the other bedrooms.
What was I doing there? How could I have thought this was where I was meant to be?
Dashing down the stairs, I reached the ground floor and ran outside to the street, not stopping until I made it to the sidewalk.
I didn’t look back at the frat house as I walked briskly back to my dorm. Part of me was afraid Kyle might be watching me from the window. I certainly didn’t want him to think I was harboring any regrets about breaking up with him, because if someone turned back the clock, I would do it again in a heartbeat.
My only regret was that for a few, irretrievable months, I’d lost sight of what mattered to me most—my studies, and the career I so desperately wanted.
Chapter Twelve
That night, I sat at the desk in my room, studying with intense focus. The material, which I’d been ignoring all semester, covered fundamental laws of thermodynamics, waves and optics. I had to write this exam in less than thirty-six hours. At this point, every minute counted.
Coffee was a necessity. By 11:00 p.m., I was draining my third cup, staring into the empty bottom and wondering if I should make another. My logical brain weighed the pros and cons of that option. If I drank another, I probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until dawn, and I knew the dangers of sleep deprivation to the human mind. I certainly didn’t want to arrive at my exam with the shakes or an inability to focus. Sleep was important, so I tossed the cup into the trash can and reached for my water bottle instead.
A knock sounded at my door. Feeling slightly perturbed at the interruption, I rose from my desk to answer it.
As soon as I opened the door, my stomach dropped.
There stood Kyle, with red, puffy eyes, smelling of whisky. He was swaying on his feet, and I knew immediately that he was completely plastered.
“Meg,” he sobbed, running a hand through his tousled, greasy hair and staggering to the side. “I’m sorry for what I said. You’re the best, most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. You’re not a bore.”
At that moment, two doors swung open across the hall, and my neighbors leaned out to peer at me with annoyance. I couldn’t blame them. It was exam week. No one had much patience for noisy drama in the hallway.
“Sorry,” I said to them. “We’ll be quiet.” I grabbed Kyle by the wrist and pulled him into my room, shutting the door behind us. “People are trying to study.”
He staggered toward my bed and fell face first onto it. For a few dire seconds I simply stared, worrying that he was going to pass out there for the entire night, and feeling positively enraged that he had come here, drunk, when we both had exams to study for. All
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