The Damaged (The Insiders Trilogy #2) - Tijan by Tijan

Suck it in. Suck it up. And get going. You have a degree to conquer. You’re going to earn a master’s of science in computer information systems.

I sucked it in, sucked it up, and I was good to go. Hearing my mother’s voice smoothed it all away, and I was ready. I would be fine.

I changed tactics. “I love you.”

He was quiet for a moment. He wasn’t buying it, but he said it back, and I knew it was a pass. He’d deal with this tonight, and what “this” was, I wasn’t even sure myself. But I hung up with Kash.

I knew he had my back.

I knew he loved me.

Knowing that, feeling that, accepting that, I was ready to go.





TWO


I stepped inside, and there was a greeting line for me. No joke.

Or, well, that was an exaggeration, but Ms. Busich was there, wide smile, her dark hair swept up in a bun. Alongside her were Mr. Goa and two other faculty members and two students. I knew the faculty members because I did my research. One was my advisor, Ms. Wells, and the other was another professor in my studies, Mr. Dvantzi. The students, I didn’t know. I hadn’t researched them, which said how off my game was. Three months ago, I would’ve scoured everything I could find and I would’ve had a hard time not poking around for a list of upcoming first-year graduate students.

“Ms. Franci—”

I stopped Busich with a polite smile. “It’s Hayes. I’m still just Bailey Hayes.”

She paused, her eyebrows pinched together behind her glasses, then her face smoothed back out. Her smile returned. “Of course. Miss Hayes. Welcome.” She gestured to the students. “This is Hoda Mansour and Liam Smith. Both are students in your cohort.”

Hoda’s face was gorgeous. Big, dark eyes, smooth tan complexion, and lips that were so round they were almost an oval shape. Her hair was robust. It was the only word that came to mind, because there was a lot there. It was smooth and hanging just short of her shoulders, but the volume had me salivating. If she’d had a blowout that day, I wanted to know who her stylist was, and I wasn’t that type of girl. Chrissy, yes. My mother would’ve been all over her, exclaiming over her pedicure and cream-colored nails and the earrings that were hanging and sparkling from her ears. But it was the look in Hoda’s eyes that had me snapping to attention.

She wasn’t one to be messed with. I saw that right away. A sharp and almost calculating look was in there. I stared back at her with the same look and her lips pressed together in a flat line.

Okay then.

I would toe the line with her.

Liam was almost the complete opposite. Messy blond hair that was sticking in the air, a permanent wave where you could see he pushed his hand through his hair, leaving it where it lay, and as I studied him, he did just that. An almost goofy smile came to his face. Lines around his eyes and mouth were soft, giving him a sleepy look, too. Blue eyes that were smudged with exhaustion or something chemical, but he had a jock’s body type. Broad shoulders. His polo shirt cut off on his biceps and they were built, so the guy spent time in the gym.

The two together were not what I’d been expecting. Then again, I didn’t fit the IT stereotype either. Looking past them to the hallway, I saw plenty of gangly and awkward-standing guys who did, though, even a girl that dashed past everyone, rushing to our group. Petite. A darker complexion, small lips, and her face was rounder.

I liked her instantly.

“Ah. Yes. This is Melissa Zvanguam.”

“Hello.” She stuck her hand out, her eyes wide and taking me in.

I knew. I just knew. It was instant, but the starstruck look was there.

If I’d been questioning it before, I would’ve kicked myself now. The others were keeping themselves more restrained, or they just didn’t care, but this girl cared.

And I knew what words would come from her next, in a breathy awed tone. “You’re Peter Francis’s daughter.”

I put my hand in hers and she gripped me tight, gushing, “I am a huge huge fan of your father’s, and you’re going to be in my cohort.” A deep breath.

Ms. Busich frowned. “Get ahold of yourself, Miss Zvanguam.”

“Yes.” Melissa nodded automatically, eyes glazed and glued to me, and stepped back. Her hand didn’t disengage from mine, so she was bent forward. “I can’t let go of your hand.”

Hoda coughed, stepping forward. Her hands were clasped in front of her and the movement tore our hands apart.

Liam was stoned. I was pretty sure. His smile never dimmed or changed. He didn’t move at all.

Yep. Stoned. I was certain.

“Ah. Miss Mansour. Why don’t you show Miss Hayes the premises, help her get situated.”

I was situated. I said it, too. “I had a tour last spring, and I’ve studied all the maps and layouts. To be honest, I just really want to get to class and get started.”

Hoda stepped more to the side so she was half next to me, facing Ms. Busich.

“Yes, well…” Busich glanced to the other faculty, which made sense. She was the head of everything. This was a more specific question.

Ms. Wells took her cue and nodded, another formal smile on her face. “Hoda will still show you the more pertinent faculties. Hoda?”

“Yes, Ms. Wells?”

“Bring her to my office after class. Miss Hayes?”