by M L Sparrow
Picking Rolo up gently, she pulled out the note that had been rolled up and stuck into the ribbon around his neck. She already knew it was from her dad, but it was nice to see his large, disjointed writing. It had only been a day and she missed her parents already. She’d have to Skype them tonight – she’d set up an account on her mum’s laptop and taught them how to use it. The note read:
Rolo wanted to come so that he could look after you. Love, Dad xxx.
Smiling, she slipped it into her desk drawer and set Rolo down on the bed.
It didn’t take long to unload her suitcase and rucksack, after all, luggage allowance had meant she could only bring a certain amount with her. The last thing to be placed was the framed photo of her and Jack, which she held in her hands for long moments before carefully placing it on the bedside table.
“Who’s that?” Riley asked, tossing aside her magazine and sitting up with her legs crossed beneath her.
Chloe reached out to trace a finger over Jack’s face. “My brother, Jack.”
“He’s handsome,” Riley grinned, waggling her eyebrows, “will he visit?”
Feeling the all too familiar lump rising in her throat, Chloe answered quietly, “He died a couple of years ago in a car crash.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” Riley gushed. “I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if anything happened to Terri. I mean, I know we’re not close. Weird ‘cos were twins, right? But I still love her…” She trailed off for a minute, before asking, “Were you close?”
Unable to speak, all she could do was nod.
“I’m sorry,” Riley repeated softly. She hesitated a moment, but then crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Chloe hated to be cuddled when she was close to tears, because it was almost guaranteed to set her off, but to push her away when their friendship was only just beginning felt like a mistake, so she grit her teeth against the emotions that welled up inside of her until Riley pulled back.
“Well,” Riley clapped her hands together and attempted to get the conversation back onto safe ground, “you’ve got a hot date tonight. What are you going to wear?”
Getting off the bed, Chloe went over to her wardrobe and flicked through the clothes she’d just hung up. There were a couple of dresses, but she didn’t want to dress up too much; wouldn’t that seem a bit desperate? Pulling out a short denim skirt and a flowery vest top, she lay them out in the bed for inspection and found her wedge sandals among the pile of shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe.
“How’s that?”
“It’s perfect, pretty but not too dressy. You don’t know where he’s taking you, after all. I can paint your nails and help you do your makeup.”
After her finger and toe nails had been painted a glossy, bright shade of red and her makeup applied with a light hand, Chloe studied herself in the mirror and had to admit that she looked good. She hadn’t been on a date for almost three years and she was a little nervous, but the fact that her legs looked great in the denim skirt did wonders for her confidence.
“I’m going to go grab something to eat before the canteen closes,” Riley announced, “but have a great time and you look amazing.” She turned to wink at her as she reached the door, “I won’t wait up.”
Laughing as Riley left, Chloe went over to the window and looked out on the students wandering around outside, some of them walking along the path, other sitting at the wooden picnic tables or milling around the car park. The sun was already lowering, sending streaks of red and gold across the horizon and Chloe turned to glance at the clock. Five to six. She felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight. Her hands were suddenly clammy and she wiped them on her skirt as she watched the minutes tick by. Six o’clock. Five past six. Ten past. Quarter past.
As each minute went by, she felt her heart sink further and further. The taste of bitter disappointment filled her mouth, but she didn’t completely give up hope until a whole hour ticked by.
She felt like such a fool; as if the star quarterback would actually want to go out with her.
Chapter Four
Why the hell had he asked her out? The words had just slipped from his mouth before he’d had chance to actually think about them. He didn’t want to go out with her, he didn’t want to go out with anyone. He didn’t want a girlfriend; they took up time and concentration and Chloe Newman definitely wasn’t the sort of girl you could had a one-time fling with, she was too good for that.
Snatching his hat off his head, he sent it flying across the room, calling himself every name under the sun, as he paced between his bed and the door. What was he going to do? He couldn’t go out with her; if it went well she’d expect a second date and he wouldn’t be able resist asking for one. He’d barely known her five minutes and yet she had some kind of power over him. It was the eyes, he thought, those big, brown bedroom eyes. And that thick hair, it made him want to sink his hands into it. And the accent. And that ass. Fuck… was there anything he didn’t like? He was going to have to get to know her just so that he could find some flaws.
“Shit,” he swore angrily, grabbing the football off his desk and pitching it at the wall. It left a dent. Another thing for him to swear about.
Suddenly, his phone began to ring. Digging it out of his pocket, he snapped, “What?”
“Whoa, don’t bite my head off,” Dawson answered and Parker could imagine him smirking. “Me and a few of the guys are going to Jenkins’, you in?”
Jenkins’ was a bar just outside of campus; it was a dive, but the owner was a huge football fan and turned a blind eye to the fact that few of them were yet twenty-one… as long as they kept winning games anyway.
“Bit early to start drinkin’, don’t you think?” he said, even as he went to retrieve his hat from where it had disappeared down the side of his bed. In his family, whisky was drunk for breakfast.
“It’s never too early,” Dawson decreed, a door slamming on his end. “I’ll meet you outside your dorm.”
Unlike Parker, Dawson lived in a frat-house, with several of their other teammates, a few minutes away from the main campus. He had a cushy room, but Parker didn’t think it was worth it for the money he paid for the privilege. But then again, Dawson’s parents were willing to pay for his education, whereas he didn’t have that luxury.
Finding his hat, he jammed it onto his head, collected his keys from where he’d thrown them on the desk, and left. He’d figure out what to do about Chloe over a beer or two and a game of pool.
Several hours later, his head was spinning as he and Dawson propped each other up at the bar. Good old country music was playing in the background and several others in their group were singing loudly. They’d played darts for a while, but when their drunkenness had made that too dangerous, they switched to pool. Parker was great at pool, even if he did say so himself; he’d cleaned his teammates out on more than one occasion, but right now the others were more interested in sword fighting with the cue’s than playing.
“Another round!” Dawson shouted, thrusting a hand into the air to get the barmaids attention and almost falling off his stool. They both cackled like lunatics.
“Don’t you think you boys have had enough?” Jenkins, the owner, asked gruffly, moving around the barmaid as he came towards them. “I hope you don’t plan to be drinking like this when the season starts back up.”
“No, Jenkins,” the pair of them chorused like good little boys.
Giving them a stern look, Jenkins frowned, “Ain’t you got somewhere else you should be, ‘cos you’re making this place look untidy?”
“Jenkins, you wound me!” Dawson exclaimed theatrically, slapping a hand over his heart so hard that Parker heard the thud and winced. Whilst Dawson talked, Parker’s mind raced.
He did have somewhere to be, didn’t he? But where…? He had a feeling it was important, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Fine,” Jenkins shook his head, exasperated, “one
more drink, but after that I want you both gone.”
As the older man bent to refill their pint glasses, Dawson shot him a smug look. That bastard could talk his way out of anything; it was a good thing he was carrying on to law school with the hopes of becoming a lawyer. Once they had their drinks, they staggered over to the table where the rest of their friends were gathered. Collapsing into a chair, he spilt most of his beer down his shirt, to a burst of laughter. Joining in, he totally forgot what he’d been worrying about earlier as the beer sloshed around inside of him.
By the time they finally left, it was dark outside. He and Dawson were the last to leave, weaving down the street with their arms around each other’s shoulders to hold themselves up. Parker had a vague memory of Dawson puking in a bush.
Somehow, he found his way back to his room. He tripped on the stairs and smashed his knee, but for some reason he found the pain funny. Standing in front of his door, he squinted at the keyhole as he tried to fit the key into it. Suddenly, the door swung open and Jet stood there glaring at him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Tryin’ to get into my fuckin’ room, the bloody keyhole keeps movin’.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” Silence met his answer. “Maybe.”
“Weren’t you out with Chloe? Not a great first impression, getting wasted on your first date.”
Shit! Now he remembered.
He felt a rush of disappointment, but also relief, like a weight had been lifted. “We didn’t go out,” he admitted, shouldering his way into the room to find Terri sitting cross-legged on Jet’s bed. His vision was blurred and he was seeing two of her, though weirdly one had longer hair. They were both glaring daggers at him.
“What do you mean you didn’t go out?” she demanded.
“Forgot,” Parker muttered. Shame curdled in his stomach, but that might have just been the beer about to make a reappearance.
“Seriously?” Terri Number One snapped, as Number Two jumped to her feet and said, “I should go see if she’s okay,” before hurrying out of the room.
Shutting the door behind her, Jet came over to clap him on the shoulder, “Asshole move, dude.”
Grunting, he fell onto his bed, fully clothed, and passed out cold.
The next morning, his mouth felt as if something had curled up and died in it. Groaning into his pillow, he turned his head and even that felt like a colossal effort. His first thought was that he had practice, but then he realized it was Sunday. Thank God. The sound of fingers on keys grated at his oversensitive nerves, niggling at his headache.
“Do you have to do that now?” he growled, peeling his eyes open just enough to make out Jet sitting at his desk.
“It’s gone midday. I’m not tiptoeing around because you’re an idiot who went out drinking instead of going out on a date with a gorgeous girl.”
“Fuck off, I don’t need a lecture.”
“No, you need coffee.” Swiveling around in his chair, he picked up the Styrofoam take-out cup on his desk and brought it over.
Levering himself up on his elbows just enough to take the cup, Parker brought it to his lips and took a sip. “It’s cold.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been waiting since eight this morning.”
Flicking off the plastic lid, he stared morosely into the murky brown depths. Not really caring that it was ice cold, he took another gulp and swilled it around his mouth to get rid of the taste of death.
“How much of last night do you remember?” Jet asked.
“Enough to know that I’m a total dick.”
“I won’t disagree.”
Setting aside the now empty cup, Parker slowly rolled out of bed, holding his banging head. For a moment he just sat on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe through the nausea, afraid he’s pass out, but then he forced himself to get up, slowly, carefully.
“I hope you’re going to apologize to Chloe for standing her up because from what Riley told Terri she was seriously pissed at you.”
“Yeah, I will.” He stumbled over to the bathroom. “Gotta be sick first.”
Once he’d well and truly purged himself of the night before and woken himself up properly with a cold shower, Parker went back into the bedroom to find that Jet had already left. Part of him, well about ninety-nine percent, wanted to pull the curtains shut and go back to bed for a few hours, but he knew he had stuff he needed to do. On the top of that list was getting down on his knees in front of Chloe and begging for her forgiveness. So he didn’t really want to go out with her, didn’t mean he had to be an asshole about it. They could at least be friends. He bet she’d make a good friend, even if he would constantly have to battle the urge to kiss her.
At the bottom of the list was getting his school stuff together, since classes started on Wednesday. What was the point of starting halfway through the week?
Thankfully, the painkillers were beginning to kick in by the time he’d found clean clothes, so he felt a little less like one of the walking dead when he left the room. Coward that he was, he decided to go get his school supplies first. That didn’t take long though and before he knew it he found himself standing outside Chloe’s room.
Adjusting his cap, he hesitated for a moment and then knocked. Voices could be heard from inside and after a moment Riley swung open the door. As soon as she saw him, her sunny smile turned to stone.
Stepping into the doorway, she pulled the door partially shut behind her. “What do you want?” she demanded, folding her arms over her chest.
“I want to talk to Chloe.”
“Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“She can tell me that herself.” Raising his voice, he called, “Hey, Chloe, call off your guard dog, we need to talk.”
A second later Chloe pulled open the door, scowling at him as she moved to stand beside Riley. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Just hear me out, okay?” He held up his palms in a staying motion as she went to close the door on him. “I just want to say that I’m sorry. I went out and got drunk and I forgot and I’m sorry because going on a date with you would probably have been the highlight of my year.”
Pausing in the doorway, she regarded him with narrowed, suspicious brown eyes, but at least she was listening.
“The truth is, I do want to date you, but I’m not going to. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend anyway, I know from experience, and you deserve better. I’ve only known you a day, but I know that. So I think we should be friends instead, what do you say?”
Sometime during his speech, her eyebrows had shot up and now she was looking at him with an expression of blatant disbelief, as was Riley, who had moved to stand behind her.
“Erm…” she said after a moment of uncomfortable silence, “thanks for the honesty, I think, but I’m not sure we could be friends. You stood me up, Parker. Friendship is about trust and I don’t trust you.”
“That’s fair enough,” he nodded, “just give me a chance to prove myself.” Before she could open her mouth to respond, he said, “Look, there’s a party tonight at the Beta house, you guys should come. It’ll be fun and we can all hang out. As friends.”
What was his problem? He seemed to get verbal diarrhea every time he was around her. Seriously, he hadn’t felt this anxious around a girl since he first kissed Penny Hill under the bleachers when he was thirteen.
“A party?” Riley instantly brightened, “I’ve never been to a frat party before, or any kind of party to be honest. Will there be drinks and dancing and boys?”
Fighting not to let a triumphant look appear on his face, Parker answered, “Yes to all three.”
“Oooh,” she squealed, grabbing Chloe’s arm, “can we go? Please, please!”
The pained look on Chloe’s face would have been comical at any other time. “I’m sure we can find another party on campus.”
“She’s right, you could,” he agreed, “but Beta throws the best parties, ask anyone.”
<
br /> Riley turned imploring eyes on Chloe, clasping her hands to her chest. Exasperated, Chloe rolled her eyes and huffed, “Fine.”
Without looking at him, she turned and went back into the room, muttering to herself, “There’ll probably be so many people there that I won’t have to see him anyway.”
That’s what she thought. Grinning to himself, he moved away as Riley shut the door, only to find his happiness fading as he bounded down the stairs and bumped into Karla. When she saw him, a smug smile spread across her face and she reached out to stroke his arm.
“Hi baby,” she purred, rubbing up against him, “were you looking for me?”
Clasping her upper arms, he moved her away with an expression of distaste, answering bluntly, “No.”
Affronted, she flipped her platinum blond hair over one shoulder, “Well, what are you doing here then?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was visiting a friend.”
For a moment her expression remained the same and then her mouth twisted into a snarl of rage as she accused, “You bastard, you’re fucking someone else, aren’t you?”
If he hadn’t already decided to cut Karla loose, that would have been the last straw.
“Karla,” he began to explain with a patience he didn’t feel, “we’re not in a relationship. We’re not even friends. We were just screwing around and you knew that, you agreed.”
“Yes, but I thought…”
“You thought I’d fall in love with you,” he interrupted her, “but I didn’t and I never will. So maybe you should go find someone who can put up with you.”
Still with that twisted sneer distorting her face, she jabbed one manicured fingernail into his chest. “You’ll be sorry.”
He shrugged, batting her hand away. “I doubt it, but I suppose miracles do happen.”
As he walked away, her shrill voice called after him, reaching pitches only dogs could hear, but he ignored her and kept walking, down the stairs and out of the building.
