by Lily Foster
It sounded like a promise. Almost as if she and I were concocting a plan without either one of us having to say the words out loud. At least that’s how I liked to think of it.
She never did come back in January. Jenna told me that Darcy decided to spend the full year in Spain so that she’d be fluent. I heard from Dan that a couple of texts Nick sent her factored into her decision as well. I never let on to Dan or Jenna, but to say I was disappointed was a major understatement.
It had been a long year. Now here I was with Nick, the both of us standing side by side watching Darcy. Like I said, this wasn’t going to end well because now that she was back, I had no intention of staying away from her.
Chapter Two
Darcy
I stood outside the door for a minute. I felt like a lifetime had passed since I’d been here but in some ways it felt like I’d never left. I had missed my friends and was happy thinking that I’d be seeing them soon but there was also a part of me that felt like coming back was a mistake.
When I finally turned the key and pushed open the door, I was greeted with silence. I was alone. The moment was broken when my phone buzzed with a text a second later:
Come to the field. NOW. Everyone here. Dan
and boys have keg ;-) J
This was Jenna testing me. The last month while I was traveling with my cousin, every text I got from Jenna was a pep talk. How I was going to go to parties again, hang out and eat lunch with the group like I used to, and not worry about how he was going to react. How I was going to live my life and he was just going to have to deal.
Jenna and I were randomly placed together freshman year as roommates and we were inseparable from day one. She is the most light-hearted, naturally happy person on the planet. She doesn’t sweat small stuff, doesn’t gossip, and there’s not a judgmental bone in her body. And the girl likes to have fun; suggest anything and Jenna’s pretty much down for it. She and I were as close as sisters and shared almost everything. I smiled thinking about seeing her and her other half again. Other than me, the person Jenna was closest to in this world was Dan. Dan had become like a third, over-protective brother to me—as if I needed another one. He took the role on out of necessity when things went sour with Nick and although I gave him a hard time, I appreciated everything that he’d done for me.
Jenna and Dan started dating at the end of freshman year and had been together, in sweet love, ever since. I had missed them both but they were so good together that sometimes being around them could be painful—a dull, aching reminder of something I didn’t have.
I took a deep breath. Was I ready for this? Wouldn’t it be better if I just lay low until classes started? I couldn’t take Jenna’s reaction if I decided to bail on her and I knew she’d just come back to the room and drag me there anyway if I tried. I decided to go. I was about to change out of the short shorts and tank I was wearing but then I stopped myself. I knew I would be changing just to avoid drawing his attention and that was ridiculous. I wasn’t going to hide anymore. It had been over a year since we broke up.
I’d only heard from Nick a few times over the winter. A few sad texts asking me how I was doing, miss you, all that, and then one nasty text asking me, “Who are you fucking?” He had this odd obsession with that topic. When Nick acted that way it pissed me off but it also made me feel sad for him.
I’d first fallen for Nick because, besides being good-looking, he was so much fun to be around. He had a great sense of humor and treated me like gold. It was like he was devoted to me—I was the sun and the moon. Where had that guy gone? It all had to have been a pretense, him being on his best behavior, because he started to show his true self within a few weeks of us dating.
After three months of increasingly possessive and unpredictable behavior, I started backing away, which made it worse. When he was sober, he was normal; he was likeable and easy to be around. When he drank he was different; he became unreasonable and aggressive. He would call me “baby” loudly and started to grab me suggestively when we were in front of other people, like he was trying to prove to the other guys that I was his—in every way. It was mortifying and that, among other things, drove me to finally end it with Nick.
I didn’t know until my parents visited me in Europe over Christmas that my brother, Caleb, had paid Nick a visit towards the end of school last year. I don’t know how Caleb found out what was going on. Even though Jenna swore it wasn’t her, I figured she had to have gone behind my back and told him. That was when things had gotten really bad, just unbearable. I was nervous and jittery all the time and crying on a daily basis. He was waking up my entire suite at least five nights a week and the things he was screaming at me—so loudly that half the campus could hear him—were cruel and untrue. As bad as it had gotten, I still wouldn’t have told my brother. He was bigger than Nick and when it came to me he was protective and could have a temper. I would have been afraid that Caleb would hurt Nick so badly that he would wind up getting himself into trouble. After the fact, though, I admit it made me feel good to know I had someone watching over me. It explained why Nick was suddenly very quiet that last week of school. It was more logical than my original assumption that Nick was finally coming to his senses.
Walking over towards the field, I realized with an inward smile that seeing Nick wasn’t the only thing making me nervous. I was nervous and excited to see someone else—Tom. And there he was…tan, shirtless, glistening with sweat. He made you think that God was magnificent, having created something so beautiful. I looked over just as he ran his hand through the sandy brown hair that was falling into his eyes. His beat-up cargo shorts, splattered with paint here and there, hung low on his hips, where my eyes lingered for a moment before moving onto the taut ridges of his torso, across his chest, and then up to his sculpted shoulders. Tom Farrell was muscular, athletic, and strong. I’m not going to say I spent all of last year in Spain pining away for him but I will say that since the night we spent talking for hours last summer, he was on my mind, a lot.
That night, I felt like I’d gotten a glimpse of the person he really was. I was able to push what little I did know out of my mind, such as his serial nail-and-bail reputation, and the more we talked, the more I liked him. It didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous but it wasn’t just that. He seemed concerned and protective over me in some way. And he was easy to talk to. I felt as if we could have stayed in that restaurant talking for days and not run out of things to say to each other. But as for his looks…while no one would ever accuse Nick of being homely, Tom was in an entirely different stratosphere all together. While I was away this past year I had frequent porn-quality daydreams with Tom Farrell playing the starring role in every one; I’d imagined the two of us together every which way.
“Oh my God!”
“She’s back.”
“Buenos tardes, senorita!”
All mixed in with shrieks from the girls and catcalls from the guys. The same, loveable, drunken fools I’d missed. Tom was on the field and Nick was standing right next to him. They were both looking my way.
Great.
I drank my first beer way faster than normal for some liquid courage. I could feel Nick’s eyes on me from time to time but he stayed on the other side of the group and, thankfully, didn’t approach me. I was tentative at first but then wound up having a great time catching up with everyone.
Tom made his way over eventually. My body heated when he came near and I felt a little breathless—I had to get a grip. He stood there, looking unsure of himself too, with his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Glad to see you’ve finally come back.”
When he looked up I met his eyes and said, “I’m really happy to be back.”
“I want to hear all about your trip,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “when I take you out on our second date.”
My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest but I managed a casual laugh. “Our second date? You mean that when your parents took me out,
that was our first date?”
He smiled in a way that made me melt and then touched my shoulder. “I guess that’s debatable but I’m going to go with a yes.”
His hand felt so warm, strong, and capable on my shoulder. Holy hell, I could barely breathe. Just then, Dan and Jenna practically crashed into us, which was probably a good thing. I was all for living my life but I also didn’t want to provoke Nick. Nick seemed like he was well on his way and had his tongue halfway down some girl’s throat by that time so I’m sure he hadn’t noticed anything. I was thankful for that. Dan dragged Tom back over by the keg as Jenna leaned into me and whispered, “What was that?”
I smiled, feigning ignorance. “What exactly are you referring to?”
She pushed me, hard but not hard enough to topple me. Jenna was tipsy. “Do you like him, because I know he likes you?”
“Are we in fourth grade, Jenna?”
“You’re funny.” Forget tipsy, the girl was on her way. She did seem to have a moment of clarity, though, when she looked at me dead-on and said, “Be careful. You and I should head back now. I basically hate Nick and don’t want you holding back for his sake, but the very first day? I’d keep my distance from Tom for a bit.”
“There’s nothing going on there, Jenna, but I hear you. I’m ready to head back. Wings?”
“Yes, I’m starving. I’ll grab Beth.”
Lying in bed that night I fell asleep thinking of Tom, envisioning his face and replaying the two or three sentences he’d spoken to me in my head over and over and over.
I had it bad.
Tom
“I’m not telling you what to do, brother, but you were pretty obvious about it right outta the gate. You know this is gonna get ugly.”
Chris was our team captain and one of Nick’s roommates, although I didn’t get the impression there was a close bond there anymore. Chris was a big guy and didn’t fuck around but he was thoughtful and even-tempered; you tended to listen to what he said.
I knew he was right but I didn’t care. I had to have her. I pretty much thought about Darcy all the time. I relived that moment of her walk across the field for days afterward in my mind. She had that end-of-summer tan, long golden waves that hung halfway down her back, and that body. In those short corduroy shorts, flip flops, and some loose, bohemian-looking tank top, Darcy Donovan was a natural beauty and sexy as all hell. And it wasn’t just that I was daydreaming of what it would be like to be buried inside of her—I mean I did daydream about having her in my bed, up against a wall, in the shower, in my parents’ pool, pretty much everywhere—but I was also thinking about taking her places, holding her, talking to her, just being with her.
I knew Chris had a point, though. I was diving right in. I did need to slow down.
Walking across the quad that first day of classes, I saw her. Girls from New York just had an edgier way of wearing their clothes. I wasn’t her only admirer; I watched as other guys fixed their gaze on her as she walked by them.
Again, I actively reminded myself that I had to slow down. Not because I felt any differently about her but because I didn’t trust myself. I fell fast and hard for Morgan and what I felt for her paled in comparison to this. I didn’t want to come on too strong with Darcy and I didn’t want to feel like road kill again if the feeling wasn’t mutual. I hung back. I just watched her. The next day I found myself staring at her again, like a creeper, as she made her way to class. At that moment I thought to myself that I was falling in love with her. Yes, I knew that sounded fucking crazy and I knew that I needed to take a big step back in an attempt to regain some sanity.
Darcy
This semester I had a tough schedule. I took heavy course loads freshman and sophomore years but last year abroad was mostly electives; literature, art history, and language immersion classes. Now it was back to the grind.
After being pre-med, gung-ho all the way, actually being able to relax and enjoy my classes last year was like an exquisite gift, a respite from the rat race I’d entered into willingly. I was able to spend the year drifting through museums, lazing away afternoons sitting in outdoor cafes reading some of the most painfully romantic literature, drinking wine and sharing meals with people from every corner of the earth—all in the name of my education.
Being totally immersed in a foreign culture wasn’t easy at first. I had no close friends tagging along and I tended to get homesick, but by the third week I was dreaming in Spanish and knew that this was all meant to be. Although I mostly felt resentment towards Nick, there were moments when I felt oddly thankful. I wouldn’t change the past we’d shared because it was what had landed me there.
I always loved the first day of classes. I’m a nerd at heart. Even though I mostly relied on my laptop, I still loved picking out fresh, clean, new notebooks and was particular down to the kind of pens I wrote with. I also always took my time getting ready, picking out my outfit for the first day. But today was different because I wanted to look good for him. I found myself looking around more than I normally would have as I made my way to class with no luck.
As it turns out, I didn’t see Tom for that entire first week of September and I’m embarrassed to admit that out of desperation, I went to him. Jenna never missed one of Dan’s home rugby matches and today I was happy to tag along. When we got to the field I was surprised to see there were a lot more like me, girls who were willing to stand outside for a few hours to ogle these fine specimens. I was reduced to a rugby groupie, no better than any one of them. Ugh.
Tom was fun to watch. He was strong; he could lay people out on the pitch. He was muscular but lean and fast; he broke away twice with one assist and a try in the first half. Manly is such a lame word but it fit. He was a man and I was in full-on lust.
Jenna and I, along with all those other girls, went to the after-party. There were a lot of people crammed into the clubhouse. With both teams there, the number of very large, dirt-covered, rowdy guys made it a wild scene. There was a keg in the corner of every room and random guys were offering you shots every ten minutes.
I was cautious at these parties. I knew several of the guys on the team and Dan was there, so I was in good hands, but my brothers, who played rugby for years, had hammered home the idea that things could quickly get out of hand and they’d witnessed good people getting involved in things they were sure to regret.
I spent most of my time talking to Chris, Mac, Jenna, and Dan, and was just people-watching, taking in the scene.
These guys seemed to have a following, girls who came to the games and parties solely for the hook-ups. They didn’t appear to be anyone’s girlfriend in particular. Those girls stayed away from Dan; he was so obviously into Jenna that even though he was gorgeous, they knew he wasn’t a possibility. Not so much with Tom. I could have gagged watching the parade of flesh practically throwing themselves at him. He wasn’t overtly reciprocating but wasn’t exactly shooing them away either.
I saw him look my way a few times but I didn’t meet his gaze. I wasn’t about to beg for it. After two beers and barely any attention from Tom, I snuck out without saying goodbye to anyone—classic Irish exit. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen between us, but today was a let-down in every way.
I ran into the rest of my roommates on my way back and got dragged to another party in the Village. The Village was the area of campus where all of us seniors lived in these crappy, pre-fab, modular houses. The walls were so thin we could talk to each other without leaving our bedrooms. It was great, though, because we each had our own room—didn’t matter that it was like the size of a walk-in closet, it was mine—and also, you could pick from ten different parties on any given night and not walk more than a few yards.
The party we walked into was packed and people were well on their way. Nick was there but thankfully, so was his girlfriend. I didn’t remember crossing paths with her sophomore year and although I wondered how she put up with him, I wasn’t about to introduce myself and have a heart-to-hea
rt. Aside from a few looks in my direction, Nick left me alone tonight but I was getting unwanted attention from another guy. For the most part they were harmless but some nights there would be a guy that could be a little too determined or downright aggressive. That crap was starting tonight when some over-served fool started to get grabby. “Come on, just have a shot. What, you’re too good to hang out with me?”
Beth ran interference for me. She was my ballsy, five-foot-three, pitbull of a roommate. She stomped right on his foot and met his gaze, “She just said she doesn’t want to. What’s your fucking problem?”
Usually her act would save the night and reduce me to fits of giggles but tonight that wasn’t the case. The fact that she felt the need to step in and defend me just burned. Who was I? Couldn’t I stand up for myself? After all that I’d been through, was I still too weak, still unable to tell a guy no? I felt so disappointed in myself.
I wanted to go back to my bed.
Another Irish exit.
I was just done.
Tom
“Where’s Darcy?”
“Darcy left with that hot scrum-half from the other team about an hour ago. Where have you been?”
I felt my chest crack.
Jenna dug in, “Oh, would that bother you, Tom? Well, here’s a tip. If you want a girl to think that you’re no longer a man-slut then discourage your harem of tramps from pawing at you in front of her.” She shook her head with a look of utter disappointment. “You’re an ass.”
More sternly I asked, “Jenna, did she leave with anyone else?”
“No.”
Sweet relief. “Is she mad at me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
That stung.
I left and headed towards the parties in the Village. I was still in my rugby gear—dirty, and a little drunk. I had to scope out a few parties before I finally ran into her other roommates, Rene, Caitlyn, and Beth. Rene told me she hadn’t seen Darcy in a while but thought she had probably bailed. I saw Nick as soon as I came in so I figured she’d left because of him. Then Beth said, “She’s got to get a thicker skin. She’s too concerned with hurting guys’ feelings.”
