1: Harassed

Lena.

The library was always my sanctuary. The place I felt safest—until tonight.

My phone lit up with a text: Almost done studying? Need anything from the store? -Mom

No thanks, heading home soon, I typed back, rubbing my tired eyes.

It was nearly midnight. The college library was practically empty, just a few other night owls scattered among the three floors of the massive building. I'd claimed my usual spot in the far corner of the second floor, hidden behind rows of psychology textbooks that nobody ever seemed to check out.

Midterms were killing me. Six exams in five days, and Organic Chemistry was determined to destroy my perfect GPA. I stretched my arms above my head, my shoulders cracking after being hunched over my notes for the past four hours.

That's when I felt someone watching me.

I glanced up and nearly jumped when I saw Jake Mitchell leaning against the bookshelf, his signature smirk playing on his lips. The campus heartthrob in the flesh, looking at me like I was suddenly visible after three years of existing in his periphery.

"Lena Adams," he said, sliding into the chair across from me. "Always studying."

My heart did that stupid little flutter it had been doing since freshman orientation when I'd first seen him. Jake was everything I wasn't—social, athletic, effortlessly popular. While I was just... Lena. The quiet girl who aced every test and never got invited to parties.

"Midterms," I explained, unnecessarily gesturing to the mountain of notes in front of me.

"You know what they say about all work and no play." His eyes—ridiculously blue under the fluorescent lights—traveled over my face, down to my hands, then back up. I became acutely aware of my messy ponytail, my faded Westlake Community College sweatshirt, the smudged glasses perched on my nose.

"I wouldn't know," I said, trying for witty but landing somewhere closer to awkward. "I'm mostly familiar with all work and more work."

Jake laughed, a warm sound that made my stupid heart flutter again. "That's what I've always noticed about you, Lena. You're too serious."

"You've... noticed me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Of course." He leaned forward, close enough that I could smell his cologne—something expensive and woodsy. "We've had three classes together. You're the one who wrecks the curve for everyone else."

My cheeks heated. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be. It's impressive." His hand suddenly covered mine on the table. "You know what else I've noticed?"

I stared at his hand on mine, my brain short-circuiting. "What?"

"You're actually pretty cute when you're not hiding behind your books."

The logical part of my brain—the part that got me straight A's and earned me the unofficial title of "smartest girl on campus"—knew this was suspicious. Guys like Jake Mitchell didn't suddenly notice girls like me at midnight in empty libraries. But the part of me that had secretly watched him for three years, that had imagined conversations just like this one, told Logic to shut the hell up.

"Thanks," I managed to say, my voice embarrassingly small.

"So what are you studying that's so important you're here past midnight?" Jake asked, still not moving his hand from mine.

"Organic Chemistry. It's kicking my ass."

"I took that last semester. Got a B-minus." He shrugged like it was nothing. "I could help you, if you want."

Now I knew something was up. Jake Mitchell offering to help me with chemistry? When he barely maintained a C-average in most classes?

"That's okay," I said, gently sliding my hand out from under his. "I think I've got it. I should probably head home anyway. It's late."

"Don't go yet," Jake said, his smile turning softer. "I actually came looking for you."

My heart skipped. "You did?"

"Yeah. My buddy Tyler said he saw you up here. I've been meaning to talk to you."

I glanced around. The library seemed even emptier now. "About what?"

"About how I've wanted to ask you out all semester but never had the nerve."

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Right. Sure."

Jake's eyebrows furrowed. "You don't believe me?"

"Jake, come on. We've been in the same classes for three years and you've barely said ten words to me before tonight."

"Maybe I was intimidated. You're smart as hell." He stood up, circling around to my side of the table. "And really pretty when you laugh."

I swallowed hard as he leaned against the table right next to me, his leg brushing against my arm. This close, I could see the stubble on his jaw, the flecks of darker blue in his eyes.

"I—I should really get going," I stammered, starting to gather my notes.

"Let me walk you home," Jake offered. "It's not safe for a girl to walk alone this late."

Before I could respond, a voice called from behind the bookshelves. "Yo, Jake! You find her?"

Tyler Reynolds emerged from between the stacks, his ever-present baseball cap on backwards, his phone in hand. My stomach twisted as he spotted me and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Well, look who it is. The campus brainiac herself."

"Hey, Tyler," I said cautiously. Tyler and Jake were inseparable—co-captains of the baseball team, roommates, notorious campus players. I'd heard the rumors about the two of them making bets on girls, comparing conquests.

"What are you doing here so late, Tyler?" I asked, already reaching for my backpack.

"Just keeping Jake company. He's been wanting to talk to you for ages." Tyler's grin widened as he leaned against a bookshelf, holding up his phone. "Don't mind me."

Something cold settled in my stomach. Was he... recording?

"I really need to go," I said, standing abruptly. Jake moved closer, blocking my path.

"Don't be like that, Lena," he said, his voice dropping low. "We're just getting to know each other."

"Move, please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jake exchanged a look with Tyler, then sighed dramatically. "See, Tyler? Told you she was frigid."

My cheeks burned. "Excuse me?"

"The smart ones always are," Tyler said, still holding his phone up. "But twenty bucks says you can change her mind."

Understanding hit me like a slap. This wasn't about Jake suddenly noticing me. This was about a bet.

"Let me pass," I said, more firmly this time.

Instead of moving, Jake stepped closer, backing me against the wall between two towering bookshelves. "Come on, Lena. Loosen up a little. Let me show you what you've been missing while you've had your nose in those books."

Before I could react, his mouth was on mine, his body pressing me against the wall. It wasn't gentle or romantic—it was invasive, aggressive. His hands gripped my waist, then slid up under my sweatshirt.

I shoved against his chest. "Stop it!"

Jake pulled back slightly, his eyes dark. "Don't be such a prude. I've seen how you look at me in class."

"Let me go," I demanded, my voice shaking.

"Not until I get what I came for," Jake muttered, his hands moving higher under my sweatshirt, reaching for my bra. "Just a little fun, Lena. You might actually enjoy it if you tried."

Panic surged through me. I pushed harder against him. "I said stop!"

Tyler laughed from a few feet away. "Feisty! This is gonna make great footage."

Jake's fingers found the clasp of my bra, fumbling with it as I struggled. "Stop fighting me," he growled. "You know you want this."

"I don't!" Tears sprang to my eyes as his other hand gripped painfully on my hip. "Please, just stop. I'm a virgin, okay? I don't want my first time to be like this!"

Jake froze, then pulled back enough to look at my face. "Seriously? You're a virgin? At twenty-one?"

The way he said it—half-disbelieving, half-mocking—made me want to disappear.

"Yes," I whispered, humiliation burning through me.

For a second, I thought maybe this admission would make him back off. Instead, Jake started laughing.

"Holy shit, Tyler! Did you hear that? Little Miss Brainiac's never been laid!"

Tyler snickered, zooming in with his phone. "Knew it. Pay up, bro. I called it."

Jake turned back to me, his expression cruel now. "No wonder you're such a stuck-up bitch. No one's ever shown you a good time."

I tried to use his momentary distraction to duck under his arm, but he caught me, pushing me back against the wall.

"Where do you think you're going? We're not done here." His hand moved from my waist to my chest, squeezing painfully through my bra. "Jesus, there's nothing here to even grab. Barely a handful."

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as Jake continued, his voice loud enough for Tyler's recording. "Flat as a board. No wonder you're a virgin."

"Please," I begged, hating how weak I sounded. "Just let me go."

Jake stepped back, but not before hooking his fingers into the neckline of my sweatshirt and yanking hard. I heard the fabric rip, felt cool air on my collarbone.

"Might as well see what we're missing," he said, reaching for my shirt again.

Adrenaline surged through me. I slapped him hard across the face, the sound cracking in the quiet library.

For a second, everyone froze. Then Jake's expression darkened dangerously.

"You shouldn't have done that," he hissed, grabbing my wrist so hard I gasped. With his other hand, he shoved his fingers under my sweatshirt again, this time successfully unclasping my bra with a brutal tug.

I cried out as he yanked, somehow managing to pull my bra out from under my sweatshirt through one of the armholes.

"Look at this kiddie bra," Jake laughed, holding up my plain white cotton bra for Tyler to see. "Not even a real woman's underwear."

Tyler zoomed in on the bra, then on my tear-streaked face. "Trophy time!"

"Give it back," I begged, reaching for my bra, but Jake held it above his head.

"Nah, I think I'll keep this as a souvenir," Jake said. "Something to remember the night I almost fucked the campus virgin."

With a final mocking laugh, he stuffed my bra into his pocket and stepped back. "Come on, Tyler. This frigid bitch isn't worth our time."

They walked away laughing, leaving me trembling against the wall, my torn sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, tears streaming down my face.

I slid to the floor, hugging myself, humiliation and violation washing over me in waves. I couldn't believe what had just happened. The library—my safe place—had become the scene of my worst nightmare.

After a few minutes, I forced myself to stand on shaky legs. I needed to get home. I quickly gathered my scattered notes and shoved them into my backpack, not caring that they were getting crumpled. I zipped my jacket all the way up to hide my torn sweatshirt and the fact that I was now braless underneath.

The night air hit me like a slap as I hurried out of the library. The campus was eerily quiet at this hour, the paths dimly lit by scattered lampposts. I kept my head down, walking as fast as I could, just wanting to get to my apartment and lock the door behind me.

I took a shortcut through the faculty parking lot, deserted this time of night. My mind raced with everything that had just happened, replaying Jake's cruel words, the feeling of his hands on me, the mocking laughter as they walked away with my underwear as a "trophy."

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the black SUV until it pulled up beside me. I startled, walking faster, but the vehicle kept pace with me.

The window rolled down. A deep voice called out, "Excuse me, miss? Could you help us with directions?"

"Sorry, I can't," I called back without looking, walking even faster now.

The SUV accelerated, cutting me off. The back door flew open, and before I could scream, strong hands grabbed me and yanked me inside.

A cloth covered my mouth and nose. It smelled sweet, chemical.

The last thing I registered was a pair of unnatural silver eyes staring down at me before everything went black.