CASSIUS

Once Quinn sent me that first text, I started getting antsy. Why would she ask me if I think she's bitchy unless there was someone making her feel that way? But then again, maybe it was just one of her millions of random thoughts.

After showering at the gym, I decided I'd stop by Roasties and pick up some coffee before meeting her at the math building on campus. Just in case.

Maybe my first instinct should have been to make sure I didn't burn Quinn with the coffee when she slammed into me, but it wasn't.

My shoulders and back are stiff as I search our immediate surroundings for what has her so worked up right now. She was running like her fucking life depended on it.

Ethan exits the room right after her, appearing flustered. He hesitates when he sees her trying to hide within the confines of my body. I attempt to keep my vision focused but I start seeing flashes of red. Did he do something to hurt her?

"Q, I don't –" As soon as he starts talking, I hear the smallest whimper escape her mouth.

"Leave." I bark out, uninterested in the idea of letting him finish his sentence. If he did something, I know how to track him down when Quinn isn't around.

He looks to me now, only able to hold eye-contact for a mere second before glancing back down at her.

"I don't understand what happened." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm sorry." I hear Quinn cry out, her voice muffled by my shirt.

"You don't need to apologize." I speak loudly, making sure Ethan hears me too.

I really wish I had somewhere to put these drinks down, but we're in the middle of an open hallway. People are watching and I want to shield her from the students staring at her like they think she's psychotic, get her the fuck out of here.

While trying to angle my body so I can block the main hoard of observers, I notice her arm. It's bright red and irritated, like someone grabbed her.

"Did you fucking touch her?" I shout, taking a hurried step toward him, Quinn stumbling with me as she continues to cling on to the front of my shirt. Ethan stutter-steps backward.

"No! Yeah, but...not like that!" He rushes out, frantically waving his hand.

I'm suddenly grateful for the coffees occupying my hands, making it impossible for them to transform into fists and possibly attempt murder. Again.

Quinn finally peers up at me and, as much as I want to kill Ethan with my eyes, I'm drawn into her gaze.

"He didn't do anything. We were alone and...and he was in front of the door and I just...I panicked, Cash. That's all." She whispers helplessly, the humiliation she's feeling evident on her face.

I don't fully understand her explanation, but I know enough about her past now that I can put the pieces together and things start to become a little clearer.

I remember how she reacted when I was in her apartment, scared that I might hurt her. I doubt this guy knows anything about what her mum told me about Hunter. He wouldn't know she was going to fall apart the way she did by inadvertently making her feel trapped. So, why am I still pissed about it?

I step in front of her, approaching Ethan, and lean in so only he can hear me.

"Don't fucking corner her again. And if you ever touch her again..." I don't finish my sentence, knowing he could relay it to Skylar. She would use it against me in a heartbeat.

"Do you understand?" I grit out, trying to remind myself that it was an honest mistake.

But I just really don't like this asshole.

"You're a fucking psycho." He mumbles, looking anywhere but at me.

I shrug before turning my back on him. I'll show him what psycho really is if he lets this shit happen again. I'm a one-warning kind of guy.

Me and Quinn start to walk towards the exit, leaving everyone behind us. Our earlier clash in the hallway left me with two half-empty cups of coffee. I pour one into the other and toss the empty container into the trashcan when we pass by it. I hand her the full cup and she takes it carefully with both hands even though it's lukewarm now.

"You brought me coffee." She speaks against the rim of the Styrofoam as we escape the building.

"What makes you think it was for you?" I tease, using my arm to push her over.

"Oh, please." She rolls her eyes after gaining her balance. "We both know I've got you wrapped around my finger." Holding her pinky up, she wiggles it in my face with a coy smile.

If only she knew just how true that is. I cut my session with Micky short when I couldn't stop thinking about someone hurting her feelings. That's fucking ridiculous.

"Damn straight." I nod my head once.

I interlace our fingers and she fixates on our joined hands as we walk through the courtyard. I can still feel some of the residual tremors from her earlier mental collapse. But, other than that, her whole demeanor seems to have taken a one-eighty and I'm scared to dig into the details of what happened.

"What's your next class?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the questions haunting my mind.

"Not shit one-oh-one." She cheers, swaying her head back and forth with excitement.

"Done for the day?"

"Yep!" She swings our hands back and forth, bringing a smile to my lips.

***********

Every day for the past two weeks, I've showed up after Quinn's last class. Coffee in hand, of course.

I swear I'm not trying to hover but, knowing what I know, I wanted to be sure that Ethan got my message. He's kept his distance so far, making me feel a little more comfortable about backing off.

Today, while I'm distracted with something floating in my coffee, Quinn's the one who grabs my hand. It catches me so off guard that I nearly trip over nothing. I squeeze it tightly, never wanting the moment to slip away. It's not often she initiates the interactions.

I'm supposed to go see my family today, but now I'm having a hard time with the idea of going our separate ways. Not sure when my heart turned into a puddle of fucking mush, but here we are.

"You wanna come with me to my mum's house?"

I swallow hard, wishing I could take my invite back. I know I've met her only family already, but that was just because she needed a ride. I don't know how she'll feel about being introduced to mine.

"Sure!" She exclaims with a big grin. "Mama's love me!" Her face falters the slightest bit.

Is she thinking about her own mum right now? I squeeze her hand tighter and the smile she gives me in return doesn't seem even remotely authentic.

"I can see that. You're a lovable person."

Uhhh, hopefully she doesn't take that wrong. Or right? I don't fucking know. I just hope she ignores the comment all together. Her cheeks flush as she inspects her feet.

"Hey, you still have both your shoes today. Proud of you." I tease, knocking into her with my shoulder.

"Don't test me. There's still plenty of time left in the day!"

*************

I spoke too soon. On the short walk from the school to my mum's townhouse right off campus, Quinn managed to get her foot stuck in a small pothole on the side of the walkway. When I lean down to try and jerk her foot out of it, she slaps me away.

"I can do it myself!" She growls, sitting on the ground with her legs bent at the knees, her foot trapped in the hole.

"Okay, okay." I take a step back and lean against a tree with my hands tucked in my front pockets.

She studies the hole and her ankle in every possible angle, like she's creating some kind of mathematic equation to find the best way to remove her foot. I hear her count out a few numbers. Maybe she actually is formulating an equation.

I recognize the middle-aged couple walking by, so I shoot them a smile. They stare down at Quinn like she's some kind of rabid animal that will attack at any moment. I hear the woman mumble to her husband under her breath.

"This neighborhood is going to go downhill if they keep letting the trash move in."

"At least your husband was enjoying the show. Guess he likes trashy tits." I call back over my shoulder.

"Yeah! Wait, what?!" Quinn looks down and shrieks, finally realizing that her tank top has been hanging loosely from her chest, exposing her cleavage. It's a nice view, to be honest.

She grabs at the fabric and holds it against her chest. The woman scowls at me before turning that angry look on her husband. Quinn twists around to address them.

"These puppies aren't for you!" She yells. She starts picking up little pebbles off the ground and chucks them at the husband's legs. "Shoo! Get!"

The husband takes large steps to escape the attack, his face flushing with embarrassment. The wife mutters profanities to herself, stomping behind him. They're my mum's neighbors. I'll be hearing about this one later. Can't wait.

I squat in front of Quinn and look down at the hole, ready to keep moving.

"Let me?" I ask.

"Fine." She huffs, leaning back with her palms flat against the sidewalk.

I manage to wriggle my hand down into the hole and feel around until I find a good spot to grip her shoe. Once I do, I yank it out, freeing her. My knuckles scrape against the concrete in the process. That thing was stuck in there good.

"I could have done that." She grumbles angrily.

"I know. I just wanted to help." I reply with a smile, trying not to say anything that makes it sound like I'm doubting her ability. Even though I kind of was.

We look at the sneaker and see that it's covered in mud and some other questionable substance. We're both grimacing at whatever it is.

"I don't...Cash...what is that?"

"I uh...I really don't know."

It looks like a mix between gooey green snot and dog shit. I gag once, shoving my knuckles against my lips to keep it from turning into actual vomit.

"What do I do?!" She asks, panicked.

"Burn it." I mumble into my fist.

Her eyes widen as they snap to mine.

"Cash! Get rid of it! Please please please –"

"Okay! Just...calm down, alright? I'll get rid of –"

Another gag happens the second my eyes land back on the shoe. I jump to my feet and stumble backwards. Whatever it is, my other hand had to have touched it when I was prying her foot out. My heart starts speeding up and I can't force myself to check my skin.

"Don't leave me down here!" She pleads desperately.

"Then stand up! I can't go back down there, Quinn. It fucking smells."

We're yelling. People are watching. Her eyes start watering as she stares at her defective foot.

"Don't cry. It's okay...we...it's alright. I'll just – yeah. Okay."

I pace back and forth for a minute, taking a few deep breaths before positioning the collar of my shirt over my nose to block out the odor. Turning my head to the side, I kneel back down to remove the shoe, refusing to look at it.

I gag into my shirt once more before managing to wriggle the shoe off with my already defiled hand. As soon as her foot is free, I throw the sneaker across the street, hitting a car parked against the curb. The alarm starts blaring, filling the street.

There's a bigger crowd now, trying to find the source of disarray. This time, it's me. Quinn's just guilty by association.

"Should we leave a note?" She whispers weakly.

I survey the area, making sure nobody has narrowed in on us yet.

"Nope. We're running."

Still squatted down, I turn and signal for Quinn to jump on my back. As soon as she does, I take off running down the sidewalk and I don't stop until we're in front of my mum's house.

Warren is sitting on the front stoop, eyeing us suspiciously. I let Quinn down and try to catch my breath. I run almost every morning, but carrying someone while you do it is a whole different experience. Maybe I should start incorporating that into my workout routine.

My brother finally stands and pulls me in for a hug, roughly patting my back.

"What's up, Cass?"

When he turns to shake Quinn's hand, she glares at it.

"I'm Warren." He offers, still waiting for her to react accordingly.

"It's Cash." She responds coldly, glimpsing up at his face.

"What?" His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Cash. His name is Cash."

Annnd here we go. The first conversation she has with Warren will be an argument. He'll get his first taste of Quinn's madness. His hand drops back down to his side as he questions her with his expression.

"Nooo, pretty sure it's not." He says slowly, peering down at her shoeless foot.

"Yes, it is." She narrows her eyes into slits, trying to intimidate him.

"Where you getting the 'H' from, hon? You know how to spell, right?"

"Hmmm...might have missed the spelling lesson in school, hon. Did they teach you how to speak correctly in school, or did they just skip right over that and go straight into lessons on condescension?" She fires back, shimmying her shoulders.

"I mean –"

"Cash." Quinn cuts him off. Warren glares down at the angry little person in front of him.

"Cass." He replies, almost sounding lost in this whole conversation. He'll get used to it.

"Cash."

Warren's mouth opens and then snaps shut again as he examines her inquisitively.

"Where'd ya get this one, Cass? Kidnap 'er from the looney bin?"

Her head jerks in my direction.

"Where'd your brother come from, Cash? The pick-your-own-dick farm?"

"Welp, glad you guys met. Can we go inside now?"

I choose not to provide either one of them with an answer as I walk to the front door, leaving them both standing there. I can hear them quietly arguing the logistics of my name as they trail behind me, like it's some great mystery.

The debate carries on once we make it inside. And even still when we enter the kitchen.

Mum holds her arms open to give Warren a hug, but he's still squabbling with Quinn. They walk right by her, staring at one another intensely as they sit at the table. I rush past her too, just wanting to wash my hands as quickly as possible.

Once I shut the faucet to the kitchen sink off and dry my hands, I give mum a hug. Quinn and Warren sound like they're on the fucking brink of a new scientific breakthrough, animatedly using their hands as they finally reach the conclusion that both shorthand versions of my name will work just fine.