The Four

The rest of the my first day went without incident - Sam and I's whole break between classes had been wasted on our confrontation with The Four, and we didn't share the same last class, so we parted ways after exiting the business school. This didn't stop Sam, however, from scolding me on the short way out.

"His name is Travis Vanderbilt," Sam said of my bespoke enemy, Twinkle Toes. "He's The Four's honorary leader."

"Vanderbilt," I said cautiously. "You mean..."

"Yeah, like of the Vanderbilts. One of the oldest, richest family dynasties in New York history." She crinkled her nose. "No big deal or anything."

"Knowing his name wouldn't have changed my mind." We came to a stop on the quad. "He still owes me a phone."

"Well I somehow doubt you're getting one from him. The Four don't talk to underclassmen, let alone English and Comparative Literature majors."

"What do our majors have to do with anything?"

"Three of the four of them are Business majors, with the exception of Alex; he's in the Music School. But still, they're all prodigies in their fields. Combine that with their outrageous wealth, and us lowly lit students can't compete."

"That's stupid," I said. "If anything, Travis's position makes him more indebted to me. He can afford a new phone."

"You're really gonna pursue this, aren't you?" Sam asked.

I nodded.

Sam sighed and shuffled her feet up and down irritably. "Could you save the next face-off for tomorrow, at least? I think we've both had enough excitement for today."

I grinned. "I'll concede to that. I have work right after class, anyways."

"Praise be. See you tomorrow!" She spun and skipped away, black silk dress whirling around her knees.

---

The next day, Sam tracked me down to have a proper lunch, "unjustly denied" her on the first day. She took me to the main campus cafeteria, a large, open space with rows of square and circular white tables. I had never seen so many food options in my life, but ultimately settled for a sandwich and iced coffee.

We'd hardly sat down before Sam waved someone over from behind me. "Evan, over here!"

I looked up as a boy with mouse-brown hair - not too unlike my own - stepped up to our table. He was one of the more casually dressed men I'd seen on campus, wearing a sage green tee, jeans and white sneakers. Sam rose to give him a hug, before he turned to me with a wide smile that spread to his hazel eyes.

"You must be Analeigh," he said, reaching out a hand to shake mine.

I nodded and smiled, but cocked my head at him. "What's Sam told you?"

"Oh, nothing that surprised me about Dr. Newman's rabid assailant." He sat down next to me and laughed along with Sam.

"Still planning on round two today?" Sam asked, taking a bite out of her salad and peering at me.

"Not necessarily... today," I said carefully. "But I can't just let him get away with it, either. Not forever."

"Which one was it that stepped on your phone?" Evan asked.

"Travis Vanderbilt," Sam answered.

He whistled. "Geez. Starting at the very top, huh?"

"Believe me, this wasn't intentional," I sighed, running a hand through my hair before resting my chin on it. "The plan was to just lay low and pass my classes."

"Seems like you got another thing coming, girl," Sam said, pointing over my shoulder with her fork.

I eyed her quizzically, then turned to look behind me. Just outside the cafeteria, in full view through the tall windows, a mob of females was trailing The Four. Their obnoxious chatter and fake laughs leaked through the walls, and was attracting attention even before they reached the doors. Whispers turned to full-blown gossip, and the once-serene room was suddenly lit with activity as the group sauntered to a corner table and sat down.

"Seriously?" I mumbled.

Evan nudged shoulders with me. "Now's your chance to keep the streak alive."

I laughed and absentmindedly turned to look back at the corner table. Immediately, my eyes were met by a pair of daggers, startling me. I whirled back around and stared at my food, tight-lipped.

He'd already spotted me.

"What was that?" Sam asked, poking me in the arm. "Did one of them look at you?"

I swallowed, "Um, yeah. I think so."

"Huh. Think they recognized you?"

"Doubt it."

"Just ignore them," Evan said nonchalantly through mouthful of food. "They thrive on the attention."

"Rightly so," Sam replied. "You can't deny they're devastatingly attractive."

Evan paused and blinked at her. "Uh, yeah I can."

Sam's eyes drifted toward the corner. "Travis is getting up," she observed.

"What?"

"Yeah," she said dreamily. "God, he's tall. He's gotta be, what, six-three or something? His strides are like the length of my body. Anyway, he's - " Sam stopped mid-bite, eyes widening. "Wait, is he coming this -"

I didn't wait for her to finish. I shot up from the table so violently that my chair made an ear-splitting scratch across the floor behind me.

"Wow it's getting late, I really gotta go," I said at lighting speed, throwing my backpack over a shoulder and grabbing for my half-eaten sandwich.

"Uh, Analeigh, where are you going?" Sam asked, wild eyes tearing away from the corner to look at me in concern.

"Oh, it's no big deal, really, just things to do, places to be," I rambled, making a final grab for my iced coffee. "I'll see you guys tomor-"

"Analeigh!" I heard Sam shout behind me.

But it was too late. As I whirled around mid-sentence, I came directly into contact with what felt like a brick wall. The lid to my iced coffee flew off the cup upon impact, and its remnants went soaring forward. I instantly felt the cold, light spray on my ankles, but was otherwise dry.

The same couldn't be said for the rigid figure inches before me. I was paralyzed, empty coffee cup in hand, staring at what had been a crisp white dress shirt just seconds earlier.

To my dismay, the entire cafeteria had come to a complete standstill. I could feel a thousand pairs of eyes on us, hear the hushed whispers of shock and horror around the scene. Every conversation and movement ceased to exist.

I inhaled slowly, eyes following the wet, browning coffee stains up his shirt, buttons to collar, until they met Travis Vanderbilt's black, icy stare. He towered over me, jaw locked, chest rising and falling evenly but hard. A single thick strand of black hair fell in front of his face, and was forming a wet droplet of my iced coffee on its end.

"Analeigh, is it?" He asked through gritted teeth. Was his voice always this deep?

I blinked and, in what can only be described as a reflexive habit, snorted.

"No."

I pivoted around him and bolted out the cafeteria door.