House of Goths

By Maria Bernard

House of Goths - Not Your Average Fraternity House

Becky Sparks is a sweet, average girl who refuses to spend her college years in a lonely, soul destroying dorm, surrounded by people who don't care enough to ask her name. Bassist Kelley Keele is a Goth with a dark past. He resides at what he and his equally eccentric bandmates, Crispin, and Dorian, like to refer to as the House of Goths.

On the first day of class, these two polar opposites literally crash into each other. Mesmerized by his overwhelming persona, Becky forms an instant bond with the scary Goth with red streaks in his hair. So much so that when she spies him putting up an ad for a fourth housemate, Becky jumps at the chance to move in, away from her dreary life at the unfriendly dorm. The problem is, well, she's a girl and a mundane one at that.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maria Bernard
• Release date: May 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9780993806735

Maria Bernard

Maria Bernard is a Canadian author, residing in the Greater Toronto Area with her music-obsessed husband, and her adopted cat, Rex. Maria eats, sleeps and dreams with romance in mind. One day the idea to share the many stories and scenarios that swirl in her imagination became a reality. Her stories are heavy on the romance with a healthy dose of steam. Maria’s characters are creative, strong-willed, artistic individuals, unafraid to show their vulnerable sides. Hand in Glove is her first published full-length novel in the Stick Shift Lips Series. She has since written and published thirteen books and is currently working on a few upcoming projects. Besides writing, Maria enjoys listening to music and playing guitar with her husband. She also loves drawing, painting, and travelling.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Who do we have here? Dorian gasped as he and his two housemates approached the old Victorian home they shared. Dear God, is she... dead?

Not dead, just sleeping, Kell said, hovering his fingers over the unconscious girl’s slightly parted lips.

Out here on the old chesterfield, on our front porch, in October, why in the world? Crispin asked the obvious.

The three Goths studied the girl, trying to figure out if she looked familiar.

She's definitely not one of our ex-girlfriends. Do you know her, Kell?

Hmm… Kell leaned in for a closer look at the small female. She did look somewhat familiar. Yet it was quite dark out and her tousled brown hair greatly obscured her features, making it near impossible to properly identify her.

Well? Dorian asked. Should we call the cops?

The cops? Crispin balked. Whatever for?

Maybe they're looking for her? Perhaps she's lost, suggested a concerned Dorian. Surely, someone is missing this girl.

Hearing the rumblings of voices in the near distance, Becky stirred but didn’t dare wake up. She hadn't slept this well in weeks and she was loathed to interrupt her much-needed rest.

Not since the start of the school year, had Becky felt this level of comfort. Moving into the college dorm had sadly turned from the exciting prospect of forming long lasting friendships to a nightmare of never ending gossip and being cruelly shut out.

Becky had arrived as fresh-faced and optimistic as could be. Her dear grandmother who'd raised her since she was a toddler had scrimped and saved all her life to send her only granddaughter to college.

Gran had such wonderful aspirations for Becky. Her greatest wish was for her shy granddaughter to get a good education but most of all for Becky to have a wonderful time at school, make lots of friends and create long lasting memories.

Unfortunately, Becky's experiences thus far had been the complete opposite of her dear gran’s idealistic hopes for her.

As it turned out, her dorm roommates were the unfriendliest group of females, she'd ever met. Having arrived a day later than most of the girls on her floor had put her at a disadvantage from the start.

Cliques and alliances had already formed. Roommates had been chosen, beds occupied.

No one had made an effort to say hello or to make her feel the least bit welcome. The chill in the air was palpable.

What it was about Becky that made the other girls take an instant dislike of her was somewhat of a mystery to her. The only thing she could think of was that she was shy and nervous. Maybe they found her lacking a certain quality. Perhaps they didn't like that she wasn't wearing the latest fashions, that her hair wasn't blonde, straight or severely parted to the side.

When Becky finally found an unoccupied bed, the girl who had already claimed it as a good place for her clothes just about threw a fit when Becky meekly asked if she could have it.

The following weeks were barely tolerable. College life proved to be cold and indifferent. Classes weren’t quite so bad because her mind was occupied but lunch breaks were lonely and desolate. Becky had all but given up on making any new friends. In truth, she was homesick, lonely and missing her grandmother terribly.

It wasn't that anyone went out of their way to be cruel. For that, Becky was grateful. It was the climate of cold indifference that hurt the most. Perhaps her grandmother had been wrong. College life wasn't about forming meaningful friendships. The best thing she could hope for was to not die of loneliness before going home for Thanksgiving.

She was weary of the endless partying at the dorm, the revolving door of jocks coming in and out of the other girl's rooms. A few times she'd had to sleep on the couch in the common space to avoid walking in on her roommate and her flavour of the hour going at it.

Not only did she feel unwelcome, she felt unsafe and vulnerable with all these strange guys coming in and out of the dorm. Becky did not want to become a statistic. Not to mention, homework and studying were nearly impossible since privacy was non-existent.

When she did speak to Gran on the phone, she didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. Instead, she lied and led the dear old lady to believe that she was having the time of her life.

***

Should we wake her? Dorian asked.

No, we'll startle her and she might scream, Crispin gasped. The last thing we need is for our neighbours to think we're sacrificing virgins. They already think we're devil worshipers!

Well, we can't just leave her out here. She'll freeze to death, Dorian fretted.

***

Desperate to get out of the dorm, Becky had quickly taken down the listing from the bulletin board by the student services office. As fate would have it, she'd been passing by when she saw him put it up. She waited until he left before she dared to approach the board.

It read as follows…

Room for rent in old Victorian house, conveniently close to campus, shared by three Goth males. Prospective applicants must be respectful of differences, have an open mind and preferably be Goth.

Well, she wasn’t Goth or male, that’s for sure, but she was respectful and believed herself to have an open mind. Obviously, since the thought of sharing a house with three strange men didn’t bother her. Two out of three prerequisites weren’t bad odds. Hopefully, he would have just as open a mind.

He being Kelley Keele, or rather Kell as he'd prefer to be called. She preferred Kelley because it sounded less threatening, less murderous. Since he was the only person who'd shown Becky the least bit of kindness, she liked to think of him in the latter sense.

It happened on the first day of life drawing class. Becky had been late as usual since she'd had trouble finding the right classroom.

Of course, that meant most of the drawing stations were now occupied. For a moment, Becky had hesitated in the doorway, searching out an available spot, her arms full of drawing paper and chalk.

The much older instructor was already making his rounds, too busy to notice her and none of the other students offered any help.

Finally, spotting a vacant easel at the back of the studio, Becky started towards it but before she knew it, she heard shouting and scuffling behind her and then a powerful force hit her from behind, winding her and nearly knocking her to the floor.

Freak! It was the last thing she heard before dropping her supplies.

For a split second, Becky had actually believed that someone had specifically targeted her. When two very large hands grabbed her shoulders, she nearly screamed until she realized that the person who'd caught her before she crashed to the floor, had to have been the real target of the attack.

Fucking mundanes! he growled venomously near her ear.

Kell should have seen them coming. The idiots had been heckling him since the start of the school year. Still so fresh out of high school, the little bastards were out to prove themselves and Goths like him were easy targets. In their ignorance, the newbies hadn't yet grasped that in college, differences or rather being odd was completely acceptable if not encouraged, especially in the art department.

His first instinct was to go after the ignorant cowards and rip out their throats, but that would be giving them exactly what they wanted, fodder to fuel their fire and besides, his first concern was for the girl he'd nearly pulverized. Poor little thing, she could have been badly hurt. Righting her to her feet, he then relaxed his hold on her and perused her for injury.

Are you all right?

A pair of lovely green eyes stared up at him. The girl was shaking. He frowned, racked with guilt. He could have crushed her, she was so very small. The thought devastated him.

She was staring and she knew it but she couldn't help it. He was quite unlike anyone she had ever seen before. Gaunt, incredibly tall and lanky yet powerfully built with broad shoulders. He had long inky black hair, highlighted with blood-red streaks framing his unforgettable face. His skin as pale as snow, his eyes as black as onyx. He had the cheekbones of a fashion model, a chiseled chin, straight nose and full masculine lips. He was a handsome devil for sure, but scary as all get out!

Fine... I'm fine, Becky said, catching her breath.

He quirked an impossibly perfect eyebrow at the sound of her sultry voice. He hadn’t expected that. From the size of her, he’d expected a much squeakier, higher pitch. Instead, her voice was rich, velvety and… undeniably sexy. So much so, that he found himself wanting to hear more of it.

Are you sure? You could’ve been badly hurt, he stated with a frown.

Becky blinked a few times before she could respond properly. In truth, she wasn’t so much shaken up by the situation as she was touched by his obvious concern. Had it been so long since she’d been on the receiving end of such kindness? I’m okay, she said shakily.

Unconvinced, Kell clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and proceeded to pick up her strewn items off the floor.

Here, let’s gather your things together, he said, bending down in front of her to pick up her art supplies. After a moment, he noticed that she was still standing there, ramrod straight, looking completely petrified.

Not an unusual reaction, he supposed, given his appearance, and the fact that he’d nearly pulverized her. Still, it stung a bit that she might find him so… unappealing.

You really all right, love? he asked again.

Really, I’m okay, she said with slightly quivering smile.

Becky couldn’t quite explain why she had suddenly frozen to the spot. Perhaps it was because the majority of the class had turned to gawk at them at that very moment. Or maybe because the instructor was approaching them, looking extremely irate. Way to make a first impression. More likely, though, it was because of the dark cloaked character kneeling before her, gathering her things off the floor.

Wait, had he just referred to her as love?

Is there a problem here, Mr. Keele? The instructor asked, looking on aghast.

Oh, you know, same old, same old, Mr. Findley, Kell said, straightening up to his impossible height of six-foot-four.

"Well, see that it doesn’t happen again. I can’t have you disturbing the other students with your drama," the doddery older man said before he turned and walked away.

As if it were my fault… Kell grumbled, looking at Becky, giving her a conspiring smirk.

With a tiny shrug of her shoulders, she smiled sympathetically at towering Goth. In that moment, she felt a strange connection to this dark cloaked creature of a man, a stirring of something akin to longing. Or at least belonging with someone rather than being by herself, if only for a fleeting moment.

You’re a funny little thing, aren’t you? He smiled wryly at her, displaying a set of perfectly white teeth. Come, let’s get ourselves situated. I see a couple of spots in the back. He then proceeded to carry her things, while encouraging her forward towards a couple of unoccupied stations. Then he went as far as to diligently place her art board and charcoal sticks neatly on her intended drawing bench.

Thank you, she said as he set her things straight.

What was that? he asked, leaning in close. My, he enjoyed the sound of her voice.

I said… thank you, for your help, Becky repeated a little louder.

It’s the least I could do. After all, I nearly crushed you. What is your name, love?

Rebecca… or Becky’s fine, she said shyly. Yours? She had heard the instructor call him something earlier but it hadn’t sounded right at the time. As it was she was having trouble averting her eyes from him, yet she didn’t dare make full on eye contact. He was way too intimidatingly different and she was pretty sure he was wearing eye makeup. Instead, she focused on his choice of wardrobe. Now that was something else altogether. Dressed in a pseudo-military jacket, tapered snuggly at the waist, tight-fitting leather pants with zippers on the outside of each leg from hip to ankle, tall sleek boots with more clasps than she had ever seen, he looked positively otherworldly, like some kind of superhero or more likely a villain.

Kell, the name is Kell. When her eyebrows shot up apprehensively, he had to smile, realizing that he’d gotten used to pronouncing his name to sound more Kill, ever since he went Goth.

Usually, he got a kick out of people’s reaction to it. With her, though, he felt the overwhelming need to reassure her. It’s short for Kelley, he said in a hushed voice spoken for her ears only.

Kelley… she said with a shy smile.

Well, see you around, Becky, he said with a slight bow before taking his place behind his easel.

***

Kell? What are you doing?

Taking her inside. What does it look like I’m doing? he said, carefully picking her up. The girl weighed next to nothing. How she managed to come all this way, dragging her oversized suitcase, he couldn’t begin to imagine. Grab her things, would you?

Inside? Crispin repeated, aghast. Whatever for?

I think I know what this is about, Kell said with a heavy sigh.

You know her then? Dorian asked, picking up the cumbersome suitcase, ignoring Crispin’s incredulous look.

I’m afraid so, Kell said, taking her directly upstairs to the spare bedroom.

Now hold on a minute, Crispin said, dragging a hand through his black wavy hair. Where are you taking her? Wouldn’t the living room be more appropriate?

Ignoring Crispin’s question, Kell carried the unconscious girl all the way upstairs and placed her gently on the mattress. She’s tired, obviously. She should sleep. We’ll talk in the morning, he said, backing out of the room, closing the door as soon as Dorian placed her suitcase down.

I don’t understand, Crispin said with a frown. Who is she? Why is she here?

Yeah, what he said, Dorian echoed, looking quite confused.

Kell shook his head and furrowed his brow. Look, there’s obviously been a misunderstanding. My fault I guess.

Yes? Crispin insisted.

It’s nothing that can’t be remedied in the morning.

Out with it, Kell, Dorian said.

It’s about the room for rent, he said quickly, but not so quickly as not to draw gasps of disbelief from his housemates.

What? No way, Kell, she’s a girl!

And she’s not even Goth!

Besides, I thought we had agreed that we were to take a vote on who we would rent to next.

Calm down… you’ll wake her, Kell said with a hushed voice. "Like I said, there’s been a misunderstanding. When I received her text, obviously I didn’t realize who she was at the time. I simply texted back that yes the room was still available."

That’s it? So, why was she out on the porch, with her suitcase? Crispin asked incredulously.

I don’t know! I have no idea, Kell spat, losing his patience.

But you do know her? Dorian asked.

Yes… well, only slightly. She’s in my life drawing class. I literally ran into her the other week for the first time, Kell explained.

You mean, she’s the girl from the diner the other day? The one who took off when we caught her gawking at us? Crispin scoffed indignantly.

Kell nodded in response. Why she’d taken off like a shot, he didn’t quite understand. He would have happily invited her to join them at their table. In fact, he had noticed she did that a lot, run off when he’d catch her looking his way.

Mmm hmm… turned on the old charm again, I see, Dorian said with a smirk.

Oh, get off it. As if a girl like this would be into a freak like me, Kelley said with a shake of his head.

Wouldn’t be the first time, Dorian piped in. "You know how it is. Nice mundane girls can’t help but wonder sometimes about guys like us. You know what I mean, us bad Goth boys."

Right, Kell scoffed sarcastically. In your dreams, perhaps.

Anyway, she can’t stay! Crispin snapped, indignantly tossing his long dark tresses over his shoulder. First thing in the morning, she’s out.

Both Dorian and Kell shot him a curious look. What’s with you, man? She’s just one small girl.

That alone is reason enough! spat the irate Goth before disappearing into his room.

Good grief, he can be such an ass, Kell said, staring after him.

That may be the case, but he does have a point, Dorian said with a sigh. We did agree that we would have an equal say on the matter of who moves in.

I know that, Kell said, tossing his head back in despair. In the morning, I’ll talk to her. For now, I think we should all just get some sleep.

Chapter 2

No way, not possible! Crispin tossed his jacket off onto the floor in a huff. There was no way that girl was staying here. How dare she assume such a thing? This was the House of Goths. No mundanes allowed!

He had finally found a place where he could be himself. There was no way he would give that up. What had she been thinking, coming all this way in the dark, dragging that huge suitcase, falling asleep on a strange porch?

Was she not the same girl from the diner the other day? The one who’d shot off after one look in his direction, as if he were the devil himself?

What did she know anyway? Crispin studied his gaunt reflection in the mirror. He tossed his long sable black hair back, squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. So what if he wasn’t what society deemed an attractive man. Plenty of girls found him pleasing to the eye. Goth girls anyway.

***

Well, this could be interesting, living with a girl in our midst. Dorian smiled, taking off his shirt and posing in front of his mirror in the privacy of his room. He gave his floppy mohawk a shake, winking at his reflection. One thing for sure, it would mean no more running around in his underwear. Although if she wanted to run around in her underwear, well…

***

Kell had just drifted off to sleep when a scream tore through the house. What the deuce! Grabbing for his discarded sweatpants, he shot out of his room.

What’s happened? he asked before it became plainly obvious.

There in the hallway stood both Crispin and Dorian. Both were semi-dressed like himself, wearing only pyjama bottoms, looking quite freaked out. Cowering in the corner in front of them, completely petrified was the girl from the front porch.

Damn it, what are you two up to? Kell scoffed, pushing past them, moving towards the terrified girl.

Nothing! Crispin responded indignantly. "I merely got up to take a piss. How was I supposed to know that she was in there?"

He’s right, Kell. It’s not his fault, Dorian said, backing up his distraught friend.

"See, this is exactly why she cannot stay here!" Crispin said with his chin up defiantly.

For God’s sake! Can’t you see you’re scaring her? Kell spat, shaking his head. Now back off and leave her to me. Taking pity on the diminutive girl, he knelt down slowly by her side. What’s wrong with you two? It’s not like you’ve never been around women.

Like you’re some kind of expert! Crispin snarked.

Hey… you’re all right, love, Kell said, ignoring Crispin’s remark. It’s Becky right?

Becky’s heart raced in her chest. Imagine her shock, having woken up in a strange bed, not knowing how she had gotten there. When she had gathered up the courage to investigate her situation, she realized that she needed to pee before she could do anything else. She managed to stumble her way in the dark and find the bathroom.

She had just finished taking care of business when the door was abruptly flung open to reveal to her one of the oddest looking creatures she had ever seen.

***

What the… fuck! he gasped, just as shocked as she.

Literally jumping off the toilet and staring wide-eyed at the ghostly apparition, Becky let out a blood-curdling scream. Reacting purely on instinct, she bolted. Using all of her might, she pushed by him, consequently crashing into a second wraith-like creature.

Though judging from the force of the impact into a solid mass of muscle and bone, she came quickly to the conclusion that these apparitions were not ghosts at all, but two very real men.

Holy shit, Crispin, what did you do to her? In reaction, Dorian caught her by the shoulders, but when she screamed again, he instantly let her go.

Me? Nothing! Aw, fuck, here he comes.

In the terrifying moments that followed, all kinds of scenarios raced through Becky’s imagination. That she had been drugged, kidnapped and taken as a sex slave was the most vivid in the forefront of her mind.

No, it couldn’t happen like this. She would end up another statistic of frat house violence. The saddest part would be that no one would notice her missing from her dorm. No one would care to look for her. Not until it was too late. How many unanswered calls from Granny would it take for the poor old lady to realize something was wrong? Oh, the guilt. Poor Granny would be devastated. She would blame herself.

Then a third looming figure appeared. She was doomed. She could never outrun them all. Overwhelmed, Becky fell to the floor and cowered into the corner, frozen with fear.

Hey… you’re okay, Kell said, attempting to reach her, if only to remove her hands from her face.

Nooo…! Becky screamed, swatting him away. He backed off immediately, holding his hands up in surrender.

Uh huh, nice to see you haven’t lost the touch, Kell. Crispin chuckled over his shoulder.

Kell? Had she just heard him right? Suddenly, she remembered. She had dragged her suitcase all the way here, earlier that afternoon. She had knocked on the door but no one was home. She couldn’t possibly go back to the dorm. Life was unbearable there. Too tired to think, she had slumped onto the couch on the porch for a much-needed rest. She must have fallen asleep.

Turn the lights on, would you? Kell barked in frustration. She probably doesn’t know where she is.

Right, that must be it, Dorian said, flicking the light switch.

Becky, Rebecca? Kell repeated, using his most non-threatening voice.

Kelley? She sheepishly brushed her dishevelled hair from her face, wiped away at her tears and looked up at him. It’s you. She breathed a ragged sigh of relief. Her large liquid green eyes darted furtively over his shoulder at Crispin and Dorian. She recognized them now. They were Kelley’s friends from the diner the other day. They must live here too. Of course, suddenly it all made sense. They were housemates.

Yes, that’s right, he said with relief, realizing that she had finally come around.

Kelley… she repeated just to be sure.

Yes, he’s Kelley, I’m Crispin and this is Dorian, Crispin spat mockingly. You are?

I said back off, didn’t I? Kell growled.

Startling slightly at the venom in Crispin’s voice, Becky took comfort in the fact that Kelley was crouched before her, the wide breadth of his long legs cradling her, his broad shoulders shielding her from the daggers in Crispin’s eyes.

B-Becky, she stammered, taking them all in best she could in the dimly-lit hallway. Aside from the scowl, Crispin was strikingly handsome if not a tad feminine in appearance. He had long wavy black hair similar to Kell’s, but he wasn’t quite as tall or solidly built. He was more willowy and slender in stature but very attractive nevertheless. Dorian was something else altogether. He was quite muscular but without unnecessary bulk of a body builder. His head was shaved on both sides and he had a big messy mohawk of sorts, inky black, of course. He was covered in an array of tattoos and had a few interesting piercings here and there. He had angular features, boyish, and rugged. He was quite handsome in his own way.

All three of them were shirtless and very distractingly so. Averting her eyes from all those well-formed pectorals, biceps, and six packs, Becky focused on Kelley’s concerned face instead.

You okay now? Dorian asked, peeking in over Kelley’s shoulder. We didn’t mean to scare you. Mind you, I think you gave us quite the fright? Isn’t that right, Crispin?

Right… some nerve, Crispin bit out. "Suddenly a guy can’t even take a piss in peace. Why exactly are you here, Becky?"

Kell sighed, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his bent knee. Perhaps we should all just go back to bed, and deal with this in the morning.

I knocked… but no one answered, she started to explain as Kell helped her up.

We weren’t expecting you, he simply said, leading her back into her room. Curious, Crispin and Dorian followed, standing in the doorway.

I texted you earlier, she said breathily, obviously still shaken by her ordeal. Why she so easily complied with Kell’s ministrations, she didn’t know. As it was, Becky hardly knew Kell, let alone his roommates. Somehow, though, she felt she could trust him.

Only inquiring about the room, Kell explained, gently encouraging her to sit down on the edge of the mattress. Not who you were or that you were coming over.

Yes, and we had plans, Crispin piped in. Matters to attend to. We don’t normally sit around on a Friday night waiting for odd little waifs to show up on our doorstep.

S-sorry, she whispered. I… had nowhere else to go.

Surely, you could go back to where you came from, Crispin insisted. This isn’t a refuge for little mundane girls like you.

Becky flinched at the unflattering phrase, mundane girl. Was that how she appeared to the outside world? Dull, tiresome, uninteresting. Was that why she’d been avoided like the plague?

Holy shit, Crisp, quit being such a dick, Dorian said with a frown.

All right enough! Kell growled over his shoulder. Leave us.

Fine… but just so you know, this is complete bull shit! Crispin spat out before walking off and slamming his bedroom door.

Dorian took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging apologetically at Becky. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just a dick sometimes.

Goodnight, Dorian, Kell insisted, standing to his intimidating full height, hands on his hips.

Yes… well, goodnight.

Suddenly, it was just the two of them in the room. Sorry, Becky said, nervously chewing her bottom lip.

At the sound of the quiver of uncertainty in her voice, Kell let out a heavy sigh. Relaxing his menacing stance, Kell turned his attention to the small girl. Yes, she was indeed small in every sense of the word, and she was merely a young girl. Hardly a woman yet or, at least, that’s how she appeared to him at that moment. How someone so little could cause such angst, he did not know. More than that, why she stirred in him such odd feelings of protectiveness and tenderness, he couldn’t explain. Normally girls like her avoided him like he was death incarnate. This one, on the other hand, seemed inexplicably drawn to him.

Ever since that fateful day when he had literally crashed into her, he had noticed her following him, casting furtive glances in his direction. Now she had shown up on his doorstep like an abandoned puppy. Could she have developed a crush? No, not possible, not this girl, not with a guy like him. No way… Anyway, it didn’t matter. He would set her good and straight soon enough.

Listen, I’m not really sure what this is all about… but I’m going to go out on a limb here and take a guess, he said, crouching down in front of her, looking into her heart-shaped face. Becky this… situation… He gestured between the two of them. This can’t… I mean… well… it just won’t happen.

"Kelley, please… don’t turn me away, she squeaked, her face crumpling into a trembly mess of quivering lips and watery eyes. There was no way she could go back to that dorm. She would much rather stay here. At least here, someone knew her name. Even if it was this frightening looking fellow with blood-red streaked hair. If this didn’t work out, she would simply give up college and move back home with her grandmother. Although that wasn’t even an option anymore, since Granny had sold the old house and moved into the retirement home. I don’t have anywhere else to go."

Oh, no… don’t do that. He winced, realizing that his presumptuous assumption had been way off. Perhaps this was just about her wanting a place to live. Don’t cry. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. If there was one thing he couldn’t handle, it was watching women cry, especially this particular little lady. All right, tell you what, get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.

Why can’t I just stay here? she asked with an uncontrollable shiver. I won’t be any trouble, I promise…

Love, if it were only up to me, I’d have no problem with you staying here. He paused, giving his head a quick shake. Now get some sleep, he said with an authoritative voice. He got up quick before he did something they would both regret. Something, like picking her up and carrying her into his room, holding her to his chest and soothing her to sleep. Why that image crept into his mind’s eye, he couldn’t say. She just seemed so needy, so vulnerable. It should irk him, but instead, it called to him.

Becky watched him walk away, leaving her alone in the womb-like room. She had just started to lie back on the mattress, only to shoot up again when he returned, carrying in his arms, a quilt. Here, you might need this, he said, dumping it unceremoniously on the bed. Then without another word, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Realizing that she was still fully clothed in blue jeans and a bulky sweater, she resolved to put on her comfy pyjamas. Quietly padding across the creaky floor, she crouched down by her suitcase and snapped it open. She undressed quickly and put on her favourite PJs. Tired and worn out, Becky spread the quilt over herself and tucked it up under her chin.

This was her last refuge, she thought with a heavy sigh. She would simply have to convince the Goths to let her stay. At least, Kelley didn’t seem too opposed to the idea, unless he was just being polite. The other two, well, Crispin anyway, he seemed quite hostile towards her. Still, she would take it. Anything was better than living in obscurity.

Ever since the first day she met Kelley, she had been inexplicably drawn to him. Obviously, they had nothing in common, but he had been the only person thus far to show her the least bit of kindness, friendliness. He hadn’t been indifferent to her like everyone else.

She had wanted to get to know him better, possibly become friends with him but she hadn’t been able to get up the nerve. During class, she’d had plenty of opportunities to strike up a conversation but just couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth without choking on her words. He, on the other hand, always had a nice smile for her.

The other day when she had been walking by the local diner where a lot of college students liked to hang out, she had seen them. The three of them. They were seated at their usual booth at the back, near the window, looking ever so unapproachable. They were mostly avoided by the general population, probably because of the way they dressed. Yet they looked so at home with each other, so comfortable in their strange little cluster. She wanted that. That closeness, that kind of intimacy, to be part of it. To belong.

She had noticed them almost daily on her way past the popular diner. It was the kind of place where a lot of the more interesting members of the student population gathered for lunch. It was a hangout for the artistic and poetic types that Becky admired so much but was too self-conscious to approach. It was definitely not a place for her. While Becky was artistic, she