by J. Lynn
“I don’t get what you’re saying.” Cam tilted his head to the side.
“What I’m saying is that…” I trailed off. What the hell was I saying? The problem was I just didn’t get him—any of him. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him and yet he was so… so friendly. The next words just came out of my mouth. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
A brow rose. “Is that a serious question?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me a moment. “Alright, I guess I’m just a nice guy. And you’re obviously new—a freshman. You seemed to be a little out of it on Monday and then you ran off, wouldn’t even come into class and I—”
“I don’t want your pity.” I was horrified. He was being nice to me because he thought I was a freshman freak. Oh God, that was…
Cam frowned, and I mean really frowned. “You don’t have my pity, Avery. I’m just saying you seemed out of it on Monday and I figured we’d just be partners.” He stopped and his eyes narrowed. “I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but there was a distinct gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“And you’re pretty,” he added.
I blinked “What?”
That frown had faded as he opened the door, ushering me out of the class and into the hall. “Do not tell me you don’t know you’re pretty. If so, I’m about to lose all faith in mankind. You don’t want to be responsible for that.”
“I know I’m pretty—I mean, that’s not what I meant.” God, I sounded vain. I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m ugly. That’s what—”
“Good. Now we’ve cleared that up. ” Tugging on my bag, he steered me toward the stairwell. “Watch the door. It can be tricky.”
I ignored that. “What does the whole pretty comment have to do with anything?”
“You asked why I’m so nice to you. It’s mutually beneficial.”
It sunk in and I stopped on the stair above him. “You’re nice to me because you think I’m pretty?”
“And because you have brown eyes. I’m a sucker for big old brown eyes.” He laughed. “I’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me what to share my cookies with you.”
I stared at him. “So if I was ugly, you wouldn’t be nice to me?” Cam pivoted around, facing me. Even a whole step below, he was taller than me. “I’d still be nice to you if you were ugly.”
“Okay.”
A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, “I just wouldn’t offer you any cookies.”
I folded my arms and tried to ignore the close proximity of our faces. “I’m beginning to think cookies is a code word for something else.”
“Maybe it is.” He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. “And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it’s been in your mouth, sweetheart.”
Part of me was slightly disturbed by that and the other part? A laugh bubbled up my throat and came out, sounding a bit hoarse. “You are really…”
“Amazing? Awesome?” He paused, brows raised. “Astonishing?”
“I was going to go with bizarre.”
“Well, hell, if I had feelings that might actually hurt.”
I grinned, falling into the easy banter with him. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t have feelings then, huh?”
“Guess so.” He went down a couple more steps and stopped on the landing. “You better hurry or you’re going to be late to your next class.”
Holy shit! He was right.
Cam laughed at my wide eyes and stepped out of my way as I charged down the steps. “Damn, if only you moved that fast for my cookies, I’d be a happy guy.”
“Shut up!” I tossed over my shoulder as I hit the next set of steps.
“Hey!” he yelled after me. “Don’t you want to know what cookies is a code word for?”
“No! Good God, no!”
His laughter followed me into the hall and all the way to my next class.
Chapter 5
“Your apartment is really nice,” Brittany said from my couch. A history text lay open, but unread in her lap. “I would love not to have to live in a dorm. My roommate snores like a banshee is her sleep.”
I hovered between the coffee table and the TV, really unsure on how Brittany and Jacob had ended up in my apartment after class. At lunch, we’d talked about getting together and exchanging notes from history and somehow my place was offered up. I really think it was Jacob’s idea, and since both of them were here we were getting absolutely no studying done.
Anxious energy buzzed through me like a hummingbird. It had been so long since I had people in my space. Back home, no one but family came around and only the maid entered my bedroom. Not only had I been a virtual pariah in my town and at school, it had been the same way inside my house. But before that Halloween party, everyone hung out at my house, especially the girls from the studio. Everyone had still talked to me then and I’d still danced. Before that party, things had been normal.
I fiddled with my bracelet, nervous. I liked them here because it was normal and reminded me of the before. It was what people in college did, but it was so… different to me.
Jacob resurfaced from my kitchen, a bag of chips in hand. “Forget about the apartment. Don’t get me wrong. It is a nice apartment, but I want to hear more about Cam’s cookies.”
I took a chip from the bag. “I should’ve never told you about that conversation.”
“Whatever,” he replied, mouth full.
Brittany giggled. “I am so dying to know what cookies are slang for.”
“Probably his cock,” Jacob plopped down on the arm of the couch.
“Oh my God,” I said, taking a handful of chips. I needed the calorie fortitude for where this conversation was heading.
Brittany nodded. “Makes sense then. I mean, with the whole not sharing cookies with ugly girls.”
“I don’t think he really meant that,” I said, popping a chip in my mouth. “So, back to our history notes…”
“Fuck history. Back to Cam’s cock.” Jacob said. “Do you know, if cookies is a code word for cock, then that means his cock was in your mouth.”
I choked on the chip and grabbed my can of soda, inhaling the liquid as my face burned.
“Theoretically speaking that is,” Jacob added, grinning like a total shithead. He hopped up. “I don’t know how you do it, Avery. If I lived across the hall from him, I’d be plastered to his front door noon to midnight. And I’d be all over his cookies. Yum.”
Waving a hand in front of my face, I shook my head. “You can have his cookies.”
“Oh, honey, if he swung batter-batter for my team, I’d be all over that in a heartbeat.”
Brittany’s eyes rolled. “Big surprise there.”
“What I don’t understand is how come you aren’t all over his cookies.”
I opened my mouth, but Brittany shook her head and said, “I don’t think cookies mean cock. I think it might mean his balls being that its plural and all.”
Jacob burst into loud laughter. “Then that means his balls were in your mouth theoretically speaking! Damn, that’s some dirty baking.”
I gaped at the two. Was this typical conversation? “Oh my God, can we please stop talking about his cock and balls or I’ll never be able to eat cookies again. Like ever.”
“No. Seriously. How come you aren’t all up on that.” Jacob climbed onto the back of the couch like an overgrown cat. “He’s obviously flirting with you.”
“So,” I replied, believing it might be safe to eat another chip without dying.
Jacob’s jaw dropped. “So?”
Britt
any closed the history book and dropped it on the floor with a loud thump. Guess there went studying completely. “Jacob is like a sex-starved woman in her mid-thirties, so he can’t possibly understand why you wouldn’t want to take a ride on the town bike.”
I glanced at Jacob, and he just shrugged and said, “Very true.”
“Even I have a hard time understanding that. Cameron is really good looking,” Brittany continued. “And I have never heard any girl talking crap about him, so he must treat them good.”
Having no idea what to say, I dropped into the black moon chair near the TV. Explaining to them the why behind it all was a big fat no go. “I don’t know. I’m just not interested.”
“Do you have ovaries?” Jacob asked.
I shot him a look. “Yes.”
He slid down the back of the couch and sat beside Brittany. “Then how are you not interested?”
Shoving the rest of the chips in my mouth, I struggled to respond without coming across like a frigid prude. But I was a total frigid prude, wasn’t I? Or afflicted, depending on who you asked. Either way, while the idea of cocks and balls interested me, the thought of actually getting up, close and personal with them made me break out in a cold sweat.
And I was sweating now. The chips were already souring in my stomach. I’d be breaking out the Tums later. My mind immediately went straight to the email from last night.
Liar.
Wiping my hands over my jeans, I shook my head. “I’m just not interested in a relationship.”
Jacob laughed. “We’re not saying that Cam is either, you know? You don’t have to want to be in a relationship for a little bow-chicka-bow-wow.”
Brittany looked at him slowly. “Did you really just say that?”
“I did. And I owned it. Gonna make me a shirt that says that.” Jacob flashed a grin. “Anyway, all I’m saying is he’s an opportunity you might not want to pass up.”
I didn’t even give that a thought. “Why are we even talking about this? We have one class together and he lives across the hall—”
“And you’re partners for the rest of the semester,” Brittany added. “Kind of romantic, going out at night and gazing up at stars.”
My stomach tightened. “It’s not romantic. Nothing is romantic.”
Her brows rose as she ran her hand through the short locks of blonde hair. “Well, hello, Debbie Downer.”
I rolled my eyes. “All I’m saying is that I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. And he’s just a flirt. You’ve even said he’s the town bike. This is just probably how he is. He’s a nice and friendly guy. That’s all. So can we just forget about it?”
“Yeah, you bitches be boring me to tears,” Jacob said, and Brittany stuck her tongue out at him. Light glinted off the bolt, and I winced, thinking that had to have hurt. “And I need some salsa to go with these chips.”
“In the bottom cupboard,” I shouted, but he was already halfway in the kitchen, doors opening and slamming.
Much to my relief, the topic veered away from me and the nonexistent whatever with Cam. Hours passed and I became more comfortable with them here and we even cracked open our history books for a few short seconds. When it got close to nine, they packed up their stuff and headed toward the door.
Brittany stopped and sprang forward. Before I could prepare myself, she gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek. I stood there, sort of shell shocked. She smiled. “There’s a big party at one of the frats Friday night. You should come with.”
I remembered Cam saying he was busy Friday and since he obviously liked to party, that was probably why. I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t be antisocial,” Jacob said, opening the door. “We’re cool people to hang with.”
I laughed. “I know. I’ll think about it.”
“Okay.” Brittany wiggled her fingers. “See you tomorrow.”
Out in the hall, Jacob started pointing at Cam’s door as he thrust his hips and wiggled his ass. I bit down on my lip to stop laughing. It went on until Brittany caught the collar of his polo and yanked him down the stairs.
Smiling, I shut the door and locked it. It didn’t take much time for me to clean up and get ready for bed. The whole bed thing was pointless because I wasn’t sleepy and since I was avoiding the laptop and therefore my email, I ended up watching reruns of Ghost Hunters until I was convinced there was a poltergeist in my bathroom. Turning off the TV, I stood and ended up doing something I hated.
Pacing my apartment like I used to do in my bedroom back home. With the TV off and my apartment quiet, I could hear little minute noises from the other apartments. I focused on those noises instead of letting my mind do the wander thing because tonight had been good and I didn’t want to ruin it. The last couple of days had been great with the exception of the whole plowing into Cam thing. Things were good.
I stopped behind my couch, only realizing then what I was doing.
Looking down, I saw the sleeve of my shirt pushed up and my fingers were wrapped around my left wrist. Slowly, meticulously, I lifted up my fingers, one by one. There were faint pink indents from the bracelet pressing into my skin. For the last five years, I only took the bracelet off at night and when I showered. Those indents would probably be permanent.
Just like the jagged scar the bracelet hid.
I removed my hand completely. The two inch stretch of a deeper pink slashed down the very center of my wrist, over the vein. It had been a deep cut made with broken glass from the picture frame I’d thrown after the first picture had circulated the high school.
When I’d made that cut, it had been the lowest point of my life and I hadn’t been joking around. There would’ve been a matching violent cut on my right wrist if it hadn’t been for the maid hearing the glass break.
The picture had been of me and my best friend; the very same best friend who had been one of the first to turn their back and whisper words like ‘whore’ and ‘liar.’
I had wanted to end it then. Just check out, because at that point in my life, nothing could’ve been worse than what had happened to me, what my parents had agreed to, and the subsequent fallout. In a matter of months, my life had utterly separated into two ragged chunks: before and after. And I hadn’t been able to see a possible after when the entire school got behind Blaine.
Now? The after seemed endless, but shame burned like a low fire in my belly as I stared at the scar. Suicide was never the answer and if anything, checking out was letting all of them win. I’d learned the lesson all by myself since therapy had never been an option. My parents would’ve rather cut off their legs than suffer through the embarrassment of having a daughter that had tried to commit suicide and needed therapy. More money had exchanged hands to keep my afternoon hospital run quiet.
Apparently my parents were okay with having a daughter labeled a lying whore.
But I hated seeing the physical embodiment of my weakness, would be beyond humiliated if anyone ever saw it.
Sudden deep laughter from the hallway drew my attention—Cam’s laughter. My head swiveled toward the kitchen. On the stove, the clock read near one in the morning.
I tugged my sleeve down.
“Can’t you skip it Friday night?” a feminine voice asked, slightly muffled through the wall.
There was a pause and then I heard Cam say, “You know I can’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time.”
Sweetheart? Oh! I heard their footsteps round the railing outside the apartment, hitting the stairwell.
Rushing around the couch, I made my way over to the window. Since my apartment was at the end and overlooking the parking lot, all I had to do was wait. And then there they were, a shirtless Cam and a girl.
A really tall, leggy brunette wearing a cute denim skirt. That was all I could make out from the window as they crossed the parking lot. The girl stumbled but caught herself before Cam had to intervene. They stopped behind a dark colored sedan. I felt like a total peeper watching them, but I was riveted.
<
br /> Cam said something and laughed when the girl playfully shoved his shoulder. A second later, they hugged and then he stepped back, giving her a little wave before turning back to the apartment building. Halfway back, he glanced up toward our floor, and I jumped back like a total idiot. He couldn’t see me. There was no way without any lights on in my apartment.
I laughed at myself and then quieted when I heard a door shut down the hall.
Relief poured into me, easing the muscles that had been tightening on and off. Seeing him with another girl was… good. Totally reaffirmed the fact that Cam was a very charming, harmless flirt who like to hand out cookies to pretty girls and had a pet tortoise named Raphael. That was good. That was doable. I could handle that because what Brittany and Jacob were suggesting made me itchy and antsy.
Maybe Cam and I would become friends. I was okay with that because it was nice to have more friends like before.
But as I climbed into bed and laid awake, staring at the ceiling, for a moment, a really brief moment, I wondered what it would be like if Cam had been interested in me like that. To have something like that to look forward to. To be giddy and excited whenever he looked at me or when our hands accidentally touched. I wondered what it would be like to be interested in him like that or any guy for that matter. To look forward to dates, to first kisses and all the things that came after that. I bet it would be nice. It would be like before.
Before Blaine Fitzgerald had taken all of that away.
#
Storm clouds were rolling in Thursday morning and it looked like it would be a rainy, cruddy day on campus. Luckily I only had two classes to sloth through, so before I headed out, I grabbed a hoodie and slipped it over my shirt. I thought about changing out of my shorts and flip flops, but decided I was feeling way too lazy to go to that much trouble.
Texting Jacob to see if he wanted me to pick up any coffee before I hit art class, I slipped out of my apartment and made it to the stairwell before Cam’s apartment door flew open and a guy came out, pulling a shirt down over his head. His shaggy, shoulder length blond head poked through, and I recognized him as the guy with Cam’s tortoise—the roommate.
