by M. L. Rice
“What do you want to do?” Aidan asked.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be taking a year off and working at a coffee shop.” He smiled.
Aidan nodded. “I understand. I was training to be a mechanic before I decided to join up. It was fine and I liked it, but it just wasn’t…enough. If that makes sense.”
“It does indeed. I dunno. I think I might actually be leaning toward hospitality at this point.”
“Being nice to people?” Aidan asked, brow furrowed.
Riley slapped her forehead.
Koji replied, “Hotel management, catering, restaurant owner, that kind of thing.”
“Oooh,” he said. “That sounds cool.”
“Still thinking about it, but it sounds more like what I’m into at this point. Either way, I’ve given myself until the spring to make a decision. In the meantime it is my life’s goal to make sure Riley doesn’t have a moment’s peace.”
“Thanks. Really,” Riley deadpanned.
“I’m glad she has you as a friend.” Aidan was serious now. “You seem like a good guy. I was worried about her being too shy to make friends.”
“Again. I’m right here. Right. Here.” She waved her arms to get their attention.
“Oh, girl, please. You know he just cares about you. Enjoy it. I don’t have any siblings, and my parents are too busy traveling around the world with their truckloads of inheritance money to pay me any mind.” His face darkened. “I’d give anything for a brother or sister who cared that much about me.”
Riley felt abashed. She never questioned Aidan’s protectiveness of her. He had every right to worry now that she was on her own for the first time. “I get it. You’re right. Just…lay off the teasing. It’s embarrassing.”
Aidan and Koji grinned with the same Cheshire Cat smile, and Riley knew that would never happen.
Chapter Eight
What had she gotten herself into? Riley was only two months into her freshman year of college. She was already addicted to coffee and ramen, and she spent every waking hour reading boring textbooks, listening to professors drone on about whatever the hell thing that was ratified in who knows what year during the war of blah-ty blah, writing essays, trying to figure out equations, learning about the history of music, and, as she was currently sight-reading, memorizing and practicing new and particularly difficult cello études for her performance class. This was all on top of practicing her music for the symphony orchestra rehearsals.
Draping herself over her cello, she sighed loudly. She tried to slow her breathing and relax. Panicking about her massive workload wasn’t going to help anything.
She jumped as someone tapped on the narrow glass window of the practice room door. Looking up, she saw a familiar face. It was Tori Pearson, the senior violinist who had escorted her in to her audition before the start of the school year. She also just happened to be one of the hottest girls Riley had ever seen. It was always difficult keeping her eyes off her during their orchestra rehearsals.
Tori had jet-black hair that she wore in a kind of pixie-meets-punk short cut where the bangs draped down over her right eye. She was petite, but fit, and her black skinny jeans rode so low on her hips that Riley’s eyes were inadvertently drawn to the pale skin that showed under the too small vintage Flogging Molly T-shirt she wore.
Riley jumped again as Tori’s second knock brought her back to her senses. She looked from Tori’s stomach to her eyes guiltily and saw a hint of a smile on her face. Embarrassed, Riley set her cello down and opened the door. “Sorry. I’m kind of out of it. I haven’t slept much lately.”
Tori smiled. “No worries. Riley, right?”
“Yeah. Riley.” She knew her name!
“I’m just clearing out the practice rooms. The building closes in thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” Riley didn’t want her to leave now that she had the opportunity to talk to her, so she scrambled for something to say. “Do you work here too? I mean, in addition to going to school?”
Tori nodded. “Yep. It feels like I should just set up an apartment in one of these.” She gestured to the small practice room. “I’m here way more than I’m at home. Anyway, it’s as good a job as any. It saves me time and money commuting between class and work. Just keep them both in the same place!”
Riley stood in silence. Tori intimidated her. Not only was she older and mind-numbingly cute, but she was also one of the best violin performance students at the university.
Tori raised her eyebrows as the silence stretched on and pursed her lips in an expectant smile. “Soooo…”
Riley shook herself. “Oh! Yeah. Sorry. I’ll pack up. I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer anyway.” She berated herself for making such an awful impression.
“Cool. See ya.”
“See ya.”
She watched Tori walk down the hallway and peer into the other practice rooms before turning around a corner and out of sight.
“Well, that was lovely,” Riley said with irritation as she put her cello into its case and angrily stuffed her sheet music inside. “The witty and charming conversationalist Riley Michelle Gordon strikes again.”
*
She entered her dorm room as silently as she could in case Brooke was trying to sleep, but found, not for the first time, that her roommate was gone. It seemed that as the days passed, Brooke was spending more and more nights out late going to parties or doing God knows what until well past midnight. Riley couldn’t fathom having time for schoolwork with the kind of party habits that Brooke seemed to have. Still, she didn’t mind. Brooke probably already thought she was mentally unstable after all the times Riley had woken her up screaming from nightmares of cigarette burns and belt beatings. Those were always fun.
She tucked her cello and backpack neatly in the corner, changed into her pajamas, and then double-checked her schedule for the next day. Calculus, Orchestra, Music Theory, and Astronomy. Riley sighed as she set the alarm on her iPhone and crawled under the covers. Twelve thirty-five a.m. She could still get six and a half hours of sleep. At least it was better than the four she got last night.
*
Riley was startled awake by the slamming of her dorm room door. It didn’t take long for her head to clear enough to know that she was pissed off. The last thing she needed once she had finally fallen asleep was a rude roommate who didn’t know the definition of consideration. She was about to give Brooke a piece of her mind when she heard a soft giggle, some stumbling into the wall, and then the low voice of a man.
You have got to be effing kidding me. Riley stayed perfectly still on her side facing the wall.
“What about her?”
Brooke’s voice, her words slurred, whispered, “Don’t worry. She sleeps like a log…unless she has a nightmare freak-out. She never notices when I come in late.”
Riley’s eyebrows creased in anger. Just because I don’t yell at you every time you wake me up doesn’t mean that I don’t notice.
How had Brooke snuck a guy into the room in the first place? Should she say something to them?
She heard them move to Brooke’s bed on the other side of the room and… Oh God.
Soft rustling and kissing noises were followed by the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered.
Riley was mortified. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the courage. Embarrassment and horror paralyzed her.
The étude she had been learning started playing in her head. She turned the mental volume up as loud as it would go, but it couldn’t drown out the awful sounds. It looked like it was going to be another sleepless night.
*
“Riley.”
Riley sat up quickly and blinked, a drool mark left on the table where she had fallen asleep. “Wha?”
Tori laughed. “You were out like a light.”
“What time is it?”
“Five thirty. Your theory class ended an hour and a half ago.”
“Shit!” She had o
nly wanted to rest her head for a few minutes after class before having to go to the coffee shop. “I’m late for work.”
“Where do you work?”
Riley started shoving her paperwork back into her backpack. “Metro Haus.”
“Oh yeah, I know that place. Good coffee cake.”
Riley nodded as she zipped her bag and stood to leave.
“I’m headed that direction. Need a ride?”
Riley stopped and stared. Her brain was still foggy from having been woken from a dead sleep, but a small surge of nervous adrenaline brought her back to her senses. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. If…that’s okay. If it’s not too much trouble.”
Tori smiled and motioned with her head to follow. “Not a problem at all. I only live a few blocks from there. It’s on my way.”
Riley followed gratefully. “I can’t believe I crashed like that. Thanks for waking me.”
“I almost didn’t. You looked like you needed the rest.”
“I did. I do, but you know, work and stuff.”
Tori glanced at her as they walked. “You work too hard, you know.”
Riley shook her head. “Can’t get what you want unless you work for it.”
“I suppose that’s the way we should all think. I think it’s easier when college is new. Not as many distractions.”
Riley thought about Brooke. She was only one year older, and she had more distractions than cat at a laser show with a free catnip buffet. “It’s not that I don’t want distractions. I just don’t want anything to interfere with what I’m trying to accomplish. I was given a scholarship, and I don’t want to let people down. Myself included.”
Tori nodded. “I get that. I think it’s really admirable actually.”
Riley felt a twinge of heat in her cheeks.
“But I think you’re working too hard anyway. I always see you in here, practicing, studying…sleeping.” She nudged Riley with her elbow. “Look, some of the grad students are throwing a party this Saturday. Annual midterm thing. Why don’t you come? It’s going to be pretty epic. It’s at the Iota house.”
Riley almost stopped walking. She had never been invited to a party before. Not a real one anyway. She’d been invited to hang out with people, and she’d been to birthday parties, but she imagined that this would be a real party. One like she had seen in the movies. She thrilled to the possibility of being a regular person for once. Not some angry, work-obsessed shut-in. She was in college. This was supposed to be the best time of her life.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will. Sounds fun.”
Tori clapped her on the back. “Yay! Proud of you. I’ll loosen you up yet.”
This time Riley couldn’t hide her blush.
*
“You’re wearing that?” Brooke asked that Saturday night as she got ready for her own outing.
Riley regretted telling her about the party. She looked at herself in the mirror. What was wrong with jeans and a Texas School of Music T-shirt? It was a party thrown by music majors, after all.
“You’ll never get laid wearing something like that.”
Riley spluttered, “What? I’m not…I don’t want…no! I mean…I don’t—”
“Oh, calm down.” Brooke laughed. “But seriously, why not sex up the outfit a bit? It’s your first college party, right?”
Riley nodded, suddenly nervous.
“Here, we’re about the same size. At least borrow one of my tops and let me do your makeup.”
Riley looked at her hesitantly. She couldn’t fathom wearing the kind of revealing clothes Brooke wore or plastering on that many pounds of makeup.
Brooke held up her hands placatingly. “I won’t overdo it, I promise.”
Riley decided to submit. This was one of the first times Brooke had actually been nice to her. Maybe this would help thaw their somewhat icy relationship.
Only thirty minutes later, Riley looked at herself in the mirror again and barely recognized the young woman who stared back. Brooke had stayed true to her word and had managed to simply accentuate her features without making her look too “made up.” Brooke had also tamed her wavy red hair with the help of a lot of mousse. The top that Brooke gave her to wear was a fitted black designer blouse that accentuated her curves nicely. She felt a little odd and exposed in the attire, but had to admit that she did look a bit more attractive. She was also thankful for the long sleeves as they covered the small burn scars on her arms.
She thought about Tori checking her out, and a smile passed over her lips.
Brooke noticed and smiled. “Better, right?”
Riley nodded. “Better. Thank you.”
“Good. Now go and have fun.” She opened the doom room door to leave, but turned before walking out. “Oh, and you might want to find someone to crash with tonight. This room will be…busy.”
As the door clicked shut, Riley sighed with frustration. Of course she had only offered to help so that she could get Riley preoccupied with her own extracurricular activity. Her selfishness knew no bounds.
*
Riley had never been to the Iota house on fraternity row, but she knew immediately that she was in the right place. The music blared from the open doors and windows and, even though the night was still young, she had to step over frat guys in unintentionally matching white Texas T-shirts and khaki cargo shorts, sprawled out drunk on the front lawn.
Yep. Just like the movies.
As she entered, she saw a large group of students in various stages of undress gathered around a large graduate student she recognized as one of the symphony orchestra’s tuba players being held up by his friends. It was the first time she had seen someone do a keg stand, and the point of it completely eluded her. This didn’t seem to be the case with the rest of the students, though, as they cheered and goaded him on as if he were competing for an Olympic medal.
“Hey! Riley!” A barely discernible voice fought past the wall of sound to Riley’s already overwhelmed ears.
She turned and saw Tori waving her over from the landing at the top of the stairs. “Come up!”
Riley was relieved to see her. She wasn’t one to strike up conversations with random strangers, much less ones that appeared to be stoned or hammered or both. She grabbed an empty blue Solo cup from the stack next to the conveniently placed keg in the foyer, filled it to the top with a pale and watery lager, and climbed the stairs to meet Tori.
The landing was as full of people as the downstairs area, but the music was a fraction quieter. Tori led her through the people milling about and motioned for her to go into the room at the end of the hall. When she did so, Riley noticed that it was a game room complete with dart board, pool table, and a custom-made Longhorn beer pong table. Most of the room’s occupants surrounded it, Solo cups full of beer in hand, laughing when one of their buddies missed a shot. At least conversation would be somewhat possible in this room.
Riley followed Tori to a group of students she knew from class and orchestra. She was relieved to know that she wasn’t going to be surrounded by total strangers all night.
“See, guys? Told you she would come. This is Riley Gordon, the freshman who nailed her audition. I mean, hardcore nailed it. Keep an eye on her. She’s the best I’ve heard in a long time.” Tori put her arm around Riley’s shoulders as the other students moved over to make a place for them on the collection of couches in the corner of the room.
Riley tried to stifle the shiver that had run through her body at Tori’s friendly, but physical gesture. She attempted to cover it up by raising her hand in a slight wave to the group. “Hey.”
They waved back, and Tori pulled her down to join her on the vacated section of couch. Tori removed her arm from Riley’s shoulders, and Riley felt a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact.
A loud cheer erupted from the beer pong table so Riley missed what the dark-haired saxophone player said, but she gathered from the following remarks by the group that she had been complaining about a globally disliked music composition
professor.
“Watch out, Riley,” the dark-haired girl said, “you’ll have to take his class in two years. He’s a nightmare. It doesn’t matter how good your compositions are. He’ll rip them apart.”
Tori replied, “You know it’s only because he lost that best film score Oscar to a former student of his, right? That’s the only reason he gave up composing for film. He doesn’t want to compete with us.”
A baritone player spoke up. “Maybe he’ll retire soon. He’s got to be about a hundred and thirty by now.”
“Ain’t tenure a bitch?” the saxophonist responded.
“Have you written much?”
Riley turned to the speaker, a violinist named Alan who looked surprisingly like a young Marlon Brando.
Riley shook her head. “Nothing yet. Every time I try to write my own music it comes out as something that’s already been done. I just don’t think that will ever be my strength. I’d rather play anyway. That’s what I love. I don’t care who wrote the music. I just want to be the one bringing the sounds to life and make people feel it.”
A few of the musicians in the group nodded in agreement as another loud cheer threatened to drown out their conversation.
Tori turned her head to look at her. “I think a lot of music students, this group excepted, of course”—she motioned to the students on the couch—“sometimes forget about that. There are a lot of politics in the music business, and so many people want to be on top. Like with anything I guess. But sometimes they forget to go back to the basics and play or compose or conduct or whatever, for the pure love of it.”
She placed a warm hand on Riley’s knee. Riley embarrassed herself by jumping a little, but Tori didn’t seem to notice and gave her knee a squeeze. “Don’t ever lose that, okay?”
Riley couldn’t speak so she just nodded, and the conversation turned to other topics like school rivalries, irritation with the constant construction around campus, and some horrible happenings in some Third World country. Riley liked this group. She didn’t have to say much, but still felt welcome and like an equal, even though she was several years younger than most of them. They kept each other’s beer cups full all night with designated keg runs, and Riley lost herself in the buzz of alcohol, thumping rhythm, and good conversation. The best part, though, was that Tori hadn’t moved her hand, and she didn’t until they all left the frat house together in the early morning hours.
