After months of therapy, Garrett Delko is still struggling to cope with his brother's suicide. The only time he finds peace is on the pitching mound and with a mysterious girl he's been obsessed with since the first week of college. One night, he se...
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The next morning, Arianne turned off the hot water and wrung her hair out before pulling on a terry robe. Her classes weren't until the afternoon, but she wanted to get a start on a project due at the end of the semester. Hopefully, the library wouldn't be busy so she could get her hands on the reference books she needed.
Her shower slippers squeaked against the linoleum tile as she walked down the hallway to her room. Several girls gave her curious looks as she passed, but she didn't think much of it until arriving at the cafeteria for breakfast. As she stood in line for an omelet, she overheard a guy saying to his friends, "That's her."
A prickly sensation crawled down her back as more people whispered around her, some nudging each other with wide eyes, and others giving her a wide berth. Abandoning her spot, she put her tray down and pulled out her phone to text Morgan when her roommate appeared. She wore her favorite grey fishnets under a simple maxi dress with a slit up to her thigh and a hoodie tied around her waist.
"What's going on?" she asked, noticing Morgan's grim expression. "And aren't you supposed to be in class?"
"Not here." Grabbing her elbow, Morgan dragged her out of the cafeteria and into an empty corridor. "Have you talked to Garrett recently?"
"Last night. Why?" Had something bad happened to him?
Morgan's cheeks flushed an angry red. "Why didn't you tell me? What did he say? Did you guys fight?"
The rapid-fire delivery was making Arianne's heart pound. "No. What's going on? Is he okay?"
"Are you sure?" Morgan demanded. "You didn't make him mad or anything?"
"No!" Her gray eyes flashed with impatience behind her glasses. "Morgan, what is this all about?"
"Have you told anyone but Garrett about your..." She looked around, and lowered her voice to a bare whisper, "...past?"
Her past? "Only you and him. You know that." Arianne's fingers twitched as her nerves shot to the sky. "Why? Did something happen?"
"It's..." Uncertainty warred across Morgan's face.
Arianne's breathing labored as the walls closed in, shrinking into a tiny box. "Tell me," she pleaded.
Morgan squeezed her hand and Arianne knew it was bad. Bracing herself, she listened as Morgan explained, "I was in the middle of class when I got this email on my phone. The sender is anonymous, but it's from our school server." Morgan pulled up the email and handed over her phone. "Here."
A wave of icy horror washed over Arianne as she read.
To: CamargoM@EasonUniversity.org
From: Anonymous1@EasonUniversity.org
Subject: Don't become another statistic
Did you know that one in eight Americans from ages fourteen to forty-nine have genital herpes? And did you know Arianne Zhang, a freshman here on campus, is one of them? If you don't want to contract an incurable STD, stay away or else become another statistic.
