| Chapter Nineteen |

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"Ruth," Shantelle snapped into the phone.

"Yeah, mom?" Ruth mumbled, her gaze preoccupied with the words on her screen.

Shantelle hated when Ruth was distracted. She always commanded her complete attention if they were to talk on the phone like a drill sergeant for the army. But with it being a Friday night and Ruth finishing her homework early for the weekend, she thought she could turn her attention to her story for a bit. She was on a time crunch after all.

"Ruth Semple are you listening to me?"

"Yes mom, I'm listening," Ruth sighed.

"Don't give me that fucking tone, young lady," she warned, her tone dark. "I sent you out there and I can bring you right the hell back."

Ruth closed her eyes. "I'm not-"

"I asked you a question before you ignored me."

"I'm sorry, mom. I swear I'm not trying to ignore you. I'm just in the middle of a big homework assignment," she lied.

Shantelle huffed out, her voice increasing with irritation. "You bring up those grades?"

Ruth frowned, but filled her in on the chemistry test she passed and the lab report grade until her mother was satisfied enough with what she heard. Shantelle said little of anything else except to ask how her cousins were doing as roommates. She liked the girls well enough, but when she called, she only worried about Ruth and what Ruth had going on. No one else mattered to her except Koi Semple.

Whatever life Shantelle had grown up with, she wanted to leave it far behind. Including the people in it.

By the time the phone call ended, and after Ruth said hello to her dad, she felt an overwhelming tightness of exhaustion in her chest. Shantelle had sniped out all of her energy, per usual, and now she didn't even have the will to write anymore for the night. Rubbing at her temple, Ruth was about to throw herself across her bed, eager to relax the stress in her twitching eyeball, when her phone buzzed again on the desk. She mentally groaned, wondering what the hell her mom could want now. Didn't she already accomplish making her feel like shit?

Griping to herself, she picked up her phone and looked at the screen.

Ruth sat up straighter in her chair, her heart suddenly leaping into the base of her throat. An excitement flooded through her fingertips as she quickly unlocked her phone and peered closely at the image Raffo, or Sasquatch as his contact said in her phone, had sent to her.

Though they talked Wednesday, she hadn't heard from him since. No text, no call, no randomly running into one another. Nothing. She didn't mind it, though. She knew he was busy with his double major and her with her own shit going on. But that didn't mean she wouldn't periodically think about him and hope he'd put her number to good use soon.

And that moment made it all worth it.

Because the message he sent to her was a picture of him holding his guitar on a bed with the words:

Sasquatch: U already know how night five is going.

Ruth's heart fluttered at the picture of him, and she took a creepy moment to herself to glance over his photo. Beautiful silks of hickory fell across his chiseled face, having slipped out of the half-up, half-down knot behind his head, and the tips of the shorter pieces dipped into pools of liquid brown. He wasn't smiling in the photo, instead grimacing slightly to show his exhaustion, and his eyebrows were raised. Her gaze tried not to fixate on the bronze skin stretched out underneath his white tank top. Despite being tired, he still naturally looked amazing.

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