by H Hunting
BJ makes a face, and River scrunches up his nose. “Why are you taking economics?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t think I was. I thought it was folklore, not a math course in disguise, and then I get there and they might as well be speaking a whole different language.”
“So go to the registrar’s in the morning and see if you can get it switched. I mean, it has to be some kind of mistake, right?” River has resumed playing Xbox, so he doesn’t even bother to look away from the TV as he speaks.
“I should’ve said screw it and pushed for living on campus.” I whirl around, done with this conversation.
“You’d hate the dorms. You’d have to share a bathroom,” Mav calls. “Shark week would be a nightmare!”
I fire the bird over my shoulder on the way out of the living room and make a stop in the kitchen for a box of Lucky Charms. I stomp up to the third floor and my loft in the attic. Like every room in this house, it’s huge and spacious, but it has the added benefit of angled ceilings and skylights and a balcony that overlooks the backyard.
I close my door, put my earbuds in, and shove my hand into the box of cereal, picking through it for all the marshmallows. I derive an inexplicable amount of gratification from eating them all and then putting the box back for my brothers.
I consider texting Lovey and Lacey since we have a group chat, but it’s already ten thirty, and I have to be up early in the morning.
I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying not to let myself fall back into memories I don’t want.
I’m saved from myself by a knock at the door. I know it’s River because he raps twice, pauses for a second, and raps once more before repeating the sequence—like a heartbeat.
I sigh. Looks like I’m not getting out of a conversation that easily. “It’s open.” I lock it before I go to sleep every night.
The doorknob turns, and he pokes his head in. He waits until I wave him over. River is tall, so he has to stay in the middle of the room to avoid hitting his head on the slanted ceilings. He’s very much a hybrid of our parents. He has our dad’s dark hair, but our mom’s waviness. His eyes are hazel, and he and I share the same mouth, but he has our dad’s nose.
Where Maverick is rugged, GQ modelesque, River is . . . pretty. He’s obviously masculine, but his angles aren’t as severe. Everything about his face is softer, which contradicts his personality. And because he’s constantly scowling, he looks like he wants to murder the entire world, but he’d be pretty doing it.
River crosses the room and stands beside my bed, scrutinizing me. I scoot over and pat the empty space. He sits and stretches out, his massive body taking up more than half of my queen-sized mattress.
“No houseguests tonight?” I decide to break the heavy silence with humor.
“I have an early class, and practice tomorrow.”
“How responsible of you.” I tip the box of cereal in his direction.
“I’m good.”
I shove my hand in the box, fishing around for a marshmallow. They’re getting harder to find.
“You know it drives Mav insane when you put the box back and there are no marshmallows left, right?” River is clearly struggling to say what he wants to.
“Yup.” I produce a rainbow and pop it in my mouth.
River grabs my hand, and I drop the box, cereal spilling over my bed. He sits up in a rush as I curl my fingers into a fist and try to hide the crescent moons scored in my palm. But River is strong, and I’m no match for him, so he pries my fist open—gently—and sucks in a breath.
When he looks at me, his expression is tortured. “What happened, Lav?” He runs his callused fingers across my palm. The cuts aren’t deep, but they exist, and that’s enough.
“It’s nothing.” I pull my hand free.
He rolls to his side and props himself up on one elbow. “Why are you lying to me? You always lie to me about him. Why?”
Because we had something you’ll never understand. Because even though I hate him, I’ll always love him. Because he used to get me in a way I don’t think anyone ever will again. Because he could save me without smothering me. “It’s complicated.”
“I wish I’d known about the glasses situation. I would’ve come to get you.”
“I should’ve walked home—or done anything but get in the car with him. But that was the choice I made, and only I get to regret it.” I link my pinkie with his.
“I don’t like that he does this to you,” River says softly.
“I do this to myself.”
“Because of him.”
“It’s been a lot of years, River. It was a shock to my system.” That’s a partial lie.
River chews the inside of his cheek to the point that I wonder if he’s making it bleed. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to come to school here and move in with me and Mav. It was a mistake. My mistake. I thought it would be better ’cause, like, we’re all here, and I didn’t want you to have to stay back with Mom and Dad for another year. But I feel like I’m making your life harder, not easier. It was selfish of me.”
“You didn’t force me to come here. It’s where I wanted to be.” That’s mostly the truth. I didn’t want to miss out on being where everyone else was.
His pinkie curls tight around mine. “I always wanted to keep you safe, Lav, but I kept fucking up. I couldn’t even keep you safe from Kody. Even now, I can’t.”
I squeeze his pinkie back. “I don’t want you to keep me safe from Kodiak. That’s my own cross to bear, not yours.”
He’s quiet for a long time before he finally exhales a long, slow breath. “I couldn’t keep you safe from a lot of things.”
After all the damage that’s been done over the years, I have to wonder which of us has suffered more.
Present day
THE NEXT MORNING I get up early and make a stop at the student housing department so I can get myself on the list for a dorm room. It might be a long shot, but it certainly won’t happen if I don’t try. Turns out, there’s a pretty extensive waiting list, but if I don’t mind shared accommodations, I have a better chance. At this point, I’ll take about anything other than a cardboard box.
Unfortunately, when I head over to the registrar’s office right after, I’m even less successful. Apparently I need the macroeconomics course, and switching it to next semester isn’t an option unless I’d like to lose my elective. At least it’s only once a week. I guess it’s a good thing I stuck around for the quiz, although I don’t have much faith that I’ve managed to pass it.
As the week unfolds, I’m glad to report that the rest of my classes are awesome. So the upside is that I get macroeconomics out of the way at the beginning of the week. The downside is that the coursework for that is going to take me more hours than I would like to complete.
On Friday, the house starts filling up with random people early in the afternoon. It’s a gorgeous day and still gloriously warm as we approach the last week of August. By three o’clock, girls upon girls in skimpy bikinis are draped all over my brothers and their hockey and football friends.
Fortunately, I have plans to meet Josiah for coffee, and Lovey and Lacey are still trying to persuade me to come to their party. I pass through the kitchen, stopping to toss a few snacks in my backpack on my way out the door.
Two of River’s teammates—they immediately announce that they’re football players—start chatting up my boobs. Granted, I’m wearing a sundress that draws attention to them, but still, they don’t even attempt to keep their eyes above my neck.
The beefcake on the right belches loudly and skims one of my straps. “You got a bikini on under there?”
I shake my head and shift away from his unwelcome contact. His nails have dirt under them, which is nasty. I glance around, hoping one of my brothers will appear and tell this guy to back off. I usually keep to myself and my room when they have a lot of people over.
Instead of Maverick or River coming to my rescue, Kodiak pushes his way between the two
beefcakes and slings an arm over each of their shoulders. A beer bottle dangles from his fingers and his eyes slide over me, expression full of disdain. “Who let you out of your ivory tower?”
I roll my eyes and flip him the bird.
The football players laugh, and the one on the right smirks at his friend. “I like this one.”
Kodiak’s lip twitches. “There’s a do-not-touch policy on this one, so find another set of tits to eye-fuck.” He tips his beer back, draining half of it in one long gulp, his gaze still trained on me. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth as he steps forward, into my personal space. My heart rate kicks up, and my breath gets trapped in my lungs—like I’m stuck underwater.
Kodiak’s hard glare stays locked with mine as he bends down, our noses almost brushing. His breath smells like beer and more faintly of something sweet. His fingertips glide up my arm and wrap around the back of my neck, his thumb sweeping up the side, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. He tips his head, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Still such an attention seeker, aren’t you? You should leave before you embarrass yourself.” He drops his hand and steps back.
“I hate you.” I spin around and head for the front door.
“Keep telling yourself that until it’s true,” he calls after me.
In the driveway, I run into River, who’s arriving home from practice. He nods to the backpack slung over my shoulder. “I thought you didn’t have class today.”
“I don’t. I’m meeting a friend from my costume and set design class, and then I’m probably going to meet up with Lovey and Lacey.”
He rubs the scar under his bottom lip, which almost matches mine. Except his teeth went through his bottom lip when he was playing football. Mine is from a childhood panic attack during which I bit my lip hard enough that I should have had stitches. But I’d already been so traumatized, my parents didn’t want to risk taking me to the hospital.
“You’re gonna stay there tonight?” he asks.
“Maybe.” I hadn’t planned on it, although I also hadn’t planned on dealing with Kodiak, either, so I’m leaving my options open.
“Okay, might be a good idea. Based on the noise level already, it’s gonna get rowdy here, and Lovey and Lacey’s place is chill.”
In other words, he won’t have to worry about making sure I’m okay or comfortable.
River takes my bag and unlocks the car door. Sometimes he can be ridiculously kind and thoughtful. He pulls me into a hug so tight, it’s nearly suffocating. “I’m sorry about the party. Message later so I know you’re safe, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He waits until I pull out of the driveway before he goes inside.
What the hell have I signed up for this semester? And how much of Kodiak can I tolerate before I break?
I meet Josiah at the quad. He greets me with a hug and huge smile. “How was your first week?”
“Goodish. Good. I made it through, so that’s what counts.”
His right eyebrow lifts above his black-rimmed glasses. “Uh-oh, goodish sounds more like not good.”
“It was okay.” Cue internal eye roll. No one likes a Negative Nancy. “Living with my brothers is an adjustment.”
“Ah, right. Maverick seemed all right, though?” It’s posed as a question.
I fall into step beside him. “He’s the easier of the two for sure, but he plays hockey for the school team, and my twin plays football, so it’s jock central there right now.”
Josiah makes a face. “Oh man, that sounds like the opposite of your jam.”
“Uh, yup, pretty much. The dudebros are bad enough, but the girls are the worst. It’s desperation nation over there. When I left, there had to have been about twenty girls in thong bikinis wandering around the backyard.”
“What about the shirtless jocks?” He waggles his brows.
“They’re nice to look at, as long as they don’t open their mouths and speak to me.” My cheeks flush at the memory of River’s football friends chatting up my chest before I left.
“There has to be at least a few of them who aren’t total dirtbags, though, right?”
“Probably—not that it matters. There’s zero chance I’d ever date one of those guys.”
“Who says you have to date?” He gives me a knowing smirk.
I scrunch my nose. “You mean hook up with one of them?”
“Sure. Why not? Those guys have great bodies and wicked stamina.”
“My twin would murder any of his teammates who so much as looked at me the wrong way, so a hookup is out of the question, and also not my style.”
“Hmm . . . I can see how that might be a problem, then.” Josiah opens the door to the Identity and Inclusion Center. It’s marked with a safe space symbol. “Well, if you ever need a wingman at one of those house parties, you let me know. I’ll be the Goose to your Maverick.”
“Oh my God, you did not reference Top Gun.”
“The opening was there. How could I not? My mom watched that movie all the freaking time.”
“So did mine.”
“I used to fantasize about Goose and Maverick hooking up in the locker room.”
“But Goose’s mustache.” I scrunch my nose.
“A little tickle for your pickle.” Josiah waggles his brows and I burst out laughing.
“Anyway, I was obsessed with that movie for a while, and fighter planes, but mostly with young Tom Cruise.” He makes a heart with his fingers and holds it up to his chest.
“Here’s an interesting fact: My mom was on a Tom Cruise kick when she was pregnant with Maverick.”
“So she named him after the character in the movie?”
“That she did. There are conflicting stories about who picked mine and River’s names, but he most definitely drew the short straw. I mean, River Waters?”
“River?” His eyes flare and he coughs once before he says, “That’s a movie star name.”
“He’s pretty enough to be one, and moody too.” I take in the very cool, very open lounge area. Students congregate in small groups, seated on couches and chairs.
A group standing by the pool tables waves Josiah over, and I’m introduced to his friends. They’re easy to talk to, welcoming me in. Which means I’ve made my first genuine friends here.
THAT NIGHT, I stay over at Lacey and Lovey’s. The sleepover is both a good and bad idea. Good, because it means I don’t have to deal with my brothers’ jock friends. Bad because I end up getting drunk and developing a horrible case of verbal diarrhea. I’m almost positive I bitched about Kodiak to some random guy who may or may not have been flirting with me.
Post-night with Lovey and Lacey, I do everything I possibly can to avoid running into Kodiak. It’s not all that difficult. I can hang out with Josiah and his friends between classes. I spend time with Lovey and Lacey at the café. I study anywhere but at home, which means I find all the best, quietest spots in the library, and I eat an unprecedented amount of dry cereal and granola bars as a result.
It’s hellishly inconvenient, but it also means I don’t have to deal with my brothers or any of the other shit that comes with living with two guys who throw a lot of parties and have a constant rotation of embarrassingly desperate women in the house.
Regardless, I’m managing, and I’ve made a few friends of my own, so those are all wins and what I’m trying to focus on—at least until I get the pop quiz back from macroeconomics class.
Of course I’ve failed. With 25 percent. The note at the bottom of my test suggests I visit student services and set up tutoring to help me with the basics, since this test is the foundation for the rest of the semester.
Student services has been closed for hours by the time class ends on Tuesday evening. It’s warm tonight, and I’m aware that we only have a few more weeks before the weather turns for good, so I figure I’ll go for a swim when I get home and clear my head. Plus, the physical activity helps my anxiety. During my video session with Queenie yesterday, she sug
gested I take advantage of the pool while it’s still open. She was pleased that I’d made new friends, and even that I’d gone to a party. I left out the part where I got drunk, obviously.
Being uncoordinated means there aren’t a lot of sports I’m good at, but I love to swim. The water is the one place where I feel like my body isn’t awkward. And it’s quiet, peaceful—which is something I don’t feel very often. Especially not recently. It also tends to help me sleep, another thing I haven’t been doing well lately.
I almost throw up in my mouth the second I step into the front foyer and trip over a pile of nasty-smelling sneakers. I cover my mouth and nose with my palm and leave my shoes on. I don’t trust that they won’t get lost under the other ones, and I don’t want the smell contaminating them.
The living room is blissfully empty, the low drone of ESPN playing in the background. No one is watching, though, and I soon discover that’s because they’re all outside.
There have to be at least two dozen people in the backyard. Lots of them girls. On a Tuesday, for shit’s sake. I spot BJ, so I have to assume the rest of his housemates must be out there too. It’s very likely that Kodiak is among them, despite his dislike of social events that aren’t hockey games.
So much for a peaceful, quiet swim.
I make a pit stop at the fridge, debating whether I should make myself a sandwich, when the French doors open and the sounds of girls screaming and someone cannonballing into the pool stream in. I don’t bother to check who it is, since I don’t particularly care. I need food, and then I can disappear into my bedroom and forget about this crappy class I can’t get out of.
No one addresses me, so I assume it’s one of the girls coming in to use the bathroom. I grab the ham, lettuce, and mustard and set them on the counter, letting the fridge fall closed. I groan my annoyance when I spot the loaf of bread on top of the fridge. My brothers seem to think this is the logical place to keep carbohydrate products.
My height makes it exceedingly difficult for me when they put things up high. And they probably do so on purpose. Maverick thinks it’s hilarious when I have to jump to get stuff, likely because my vertical is abysmal. They also constantly buy whole grain bread—never the nice, plain, soft, stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth white stuff.
