I hated my skin. I hated my scars. I hated that I felt obligated to coat my face with this crap every day. I wanted to be able to hop out of bed, throw on whatever clothes I wanted, swipe some gloss over my lips, and be ready for the day. I wanted to wear pretty sleeveless dresses and bathing suits again. I wanted Risher to tell his dad I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
With tears streaming down my face, I picked up the jar of foundation and threw it at the mirror. “Fuuuck!”
There was a soft knock on the door. At first I thought I was hearing things, but then it happened again.
“Hollis, are you okay?”
I choked back a sob at the sound of his voice.
“I’m fine. Go away Risher.”
“Why are you crying?”
“How did you get in here?”
“The door was unlocked.”
Dammit, Benton.
“Hollis, please let me in.”
“Just go. You’re going to miss the exam.”
“I’m not leaving until you open this door and I see for myself that you’re okay.”
Knowing he meant what he said, I wiped the tears from my face and opened the door.
“There, you’ve seen me.”
He stepped forward with outstretched arms. I tensed.
He took the cue and stopped. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing like being pushed into the fire. “Why do you want to be with me?”
Confusion washed over his face. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a simple question.”
“Because I connect with you.”
“You could have any girl you want.”
“I want you.”
“For the dog date initiation requirement?”
All the blood drained from his face. “Where did you hear about that?”
“Leah,” I whispered.
“Hollis…”
The way he said my name, caused my insides to tremble.
“It’s true… the frat you’re pledging does that.”
His confusion was replaced by shame. “Yes.”
The tremble spread to my hands and chin.
“S-s-so, tha-t’s… that’s wh-at this has been?” My voice couldn’t hold on to the words.
“God, no! How could you think I would do that to you?” His tone stronger, with a bite of defensiveness.
“And you didn’t say anything to your dad.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I came up to your room Saturday afternoon and overheard what he said about me not being right for you.”
“The man is an asshole.”
“But you didn’t say anything.”
“Hollis, you’re not making any sense to me.”
“You didn’t tell him he was wrong. That hurt more than anything he said.”
“You want to know why I didn’t say anything? Because if he knew how I felt about you, he’d do everything in his power to destroy us… to destroy you.”
“Why?”
Stepping back, he jerked his T-shirt over his head and turned around, revealing his scarred back. Up close it was more prominent, jagged, and longer. Risher stayed in that position for several seconds, giving me the opportunity to take a good long look. I reached out to touch him when he abruptly turned back to face me.
“That’s my father, Hollis. He’s a monster.”
“Risher…”
“Now, to be fair, I wasn’t his target that day. He was aiming for my mom. I just happened to get in the way, trying to protect her from the heavy lamp he was about to smash into her head. The sharp edge caught me right below my neck. And dear old dad couldn’t let a good hit go to waste, so he added a little extra pressure and drug it along my back. He’s not a good enough person to know about you, let alone, know you.”
“Risher, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m having a hard time understanding why someone who looks like you would want someone who looks like me.”
“For a girl who knows how much it hurts to be judged on appearance, you don’t seem to have a problem judging. The question isn’t, why do I want to be with you. The question is, why do you believe the words of a jealous bitchy girl and a low-life excuse for a human, instead of the guy who has told you and shown you how much he loves you?”
Our gaze remained glued to each other as his words sunk in.
“Let me know when you have the answer, Hollis.” He took a step back, pulling the shirt down his chest. “And by the way, the second I found out about the dog date, I withdrew my name from the pledge list.”
His beautiful green eyes were consumed with pain. Knowing I was the cause of it shattered me. Without another word, he turned and left. I flinched at the slam of the door.
For the first time, the sight of Risher walking away was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen.
THE LONGER I stood there, the smaller I felt. I was defenseless. Risher was spot on. I knew without any doubt I loved him. But the scars kept whispering in my ear, letting me know they would always block anyone from getting to know the real me. When Risher broke through that block, they pushed back and won. Feeding off the words of others, the whispers only got louder and stronger.
From the very beginning I mislabeled Risher as the unattainable hot guy who was only interested in getting a hot girl counterpart. Even though I loved every wink, smile, kiss, and kind act, I always had that underlying sense that he was either crazy or up to something. In reality, the only thing Risher was up to was loving me. Somehow, I needed to prove that I believed in him… in us. I had a small window of opportunity before his anger turned to disappointment. Once that happened, I knew I’d lose him. Anger eventually fades, but disappointment in a person, especially the one who holds your heart, lingers forever.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I closed my eyes, and remembered the words that gave Benton strength.
So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
If I hurried, I could still get to class on time. Just the idea of going out in public without makeup made me queasy. I wanted to catapult back under the covers and hide. But I pushed the thought away for the time being. Focusing on the task in front of me, I took it one step at a time.
Step One: I went into the bathroom and wiped my face clean.
Step Two: I pulled on a pair of jeans and a white long-sleeve T-shirt and slipped into my blue kicks.
Step Three: I ran a brush through my hair, strategically placing strands over my left cheek.
Step Four: I borrowed one of Benton’s baseball caps, tugging the front down low on my face.
Step Five: I slung my backpack over my shoulder, snatched up my keys, slid my sunglasses on, and headed toward the door.
Step Six… Step Six… Step Six…
Tightly gripping the strap of the backpack, I stared at the door, hesitating. My nerve endings vibrated, causing tingles and heat to crawl over my skin. The faint sound of my heartbeat seeped into my ears. Oxygen stuck to my lungs.
So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Blowing out a series of short breaths, I quietly recited the verse until I felt the effects of the words. With each repeat, the vibrations dulled, the heartbeat calmed, and the oxygen steadily flowed.
Step Six: I opened the door and stepped into courage.
It felt as if a spotlight followed me the entire way to class. Fortunately, being late worked to my advantage because I didn’t come in contact with many people. Professor Wilson was in the process of closing the door when I rushed up. He shot me a questioning look as I slipped by him and into the room. Keeping calm, I spotted an available desk in the back of the room and sprinted to it.
As the professor went ove
r the exam instructions a magnetic force pulled my gaze to Risher sitting in his usual spot. I took my sunglasses off to get a clearer view. His shoulders were slumped and his head tilted down. There was a tapping contest going on between the pen in his hand and his right leg under the desk. The professor’s word faded as all my senses zeroed in on Risher. It might have been delusional hope, but I swore as he angled his head, I saw one piercing green eye trying to get a glimpse of me. Out of nowhere, the exam shot up and over the shoulder of the girl in front of me, snapping me out of the Risher haze. I grabbed the paper and got to work.
I breezed through the first part of the exam. As I mentally worked through the equation in part two, I noticed Benton a couple of rows away. Today, he wasn’t wearing the usual black hoodie. Opting instead for an oversized red and white plaid shirt and black baseball cap, along with his standard jeans and tennis shoes.
He fidgeted with the corner of his paper. His cheeks were flushed and he kept biting his lower lip. I couldn’t figure out why he’d be so nervous. Benton was no math whiz, but he had a B average in this class. His gaze darted from the exam to Professor Wilson at the front of the class, and then over a few rows. I shifted in my seat and saw the reason for his anxiety.
Shaffer’s back was to me, so I wasn’t able to see his expression, only Benton’s reaction. I’d seen fear in Benton’s eyes and heard pain in his voice before, but there was always a sense of calm that radiated off of his body… until today. I didn’t know what happened, but I was positive Shaffer was the cause. My blood boiled knowing that smug son of a bitch thought he could do and say what he wanted with no consequences.
Finishing the exam before time was up, I held back to make sure Benton was okay. I saw Risher gather up his backpack and take his exam up to the professor. At the door, he turned and looked directly at me. His blank expression and dimmed eyes stabbed at my heart. I tried to convey my apology through my gaze, but he left without acknowledgment.
Out the corner of my eye, I caught Benton walking to the front of the class, with Shaffer not far behind. I quickly grabbed my stuff and got up. I let a couple of people get ahead of me, to make it less obvious that I was following them. As more students finished, the area around the professor’s desk crowded. Craning my neck, I saw Benton and his shadow leave the class. I pushed my way through the bodies, finally making it out the door.
The second I stepped into the hallway, I was met by a pair of green eyes. Risher was leaning against the wall directly across from class.
“Hi,” I said timidly.
“Hi.”
Our gaze connected for several seconds, breaking only as students passed between us. I took the opportunity to check on Benton’s location. When I turned back, Risher was standing in front of me.
He was only a foot away, but it felt like five hundred miles separated him from me. “Can we talk?”
“I’d like that,” I sighed.
I snuck a quick glance down the hall. Benton and Shaffer were getting close to turning the corner.
“Hollis, I hate the way we left things.”
“Me too.”
I stole another glance away. This time it took me a second to find the two guys in the crowd.
“My next class isn’t until…”
My eyes automatically shifted again in Benton’s direction, knowing he was about to go out of sight.
Risher huffed. “Sorry if I’m keeping you from more important people.”
Aiming my attention back to him, I said, “No, that’s not it at all. It’s just… I need to go right now.”
Once again I caused his eyes to fill with anger and hurt. As he turned to leave I grabbed his wrist.
“Risher, wait…”
“See you around, Hollis.” Shaking his head, he jerked his arm from my grip and walked away.
“Don’t give up on me,” I called after him, but he didn’t turn back.
My emotions were all over the place. My heart and soul wanted to go after Risher, but my gut kept insisting Benton needed my immediate attention. As the internal tug-of-war played out, the two boys that meant the most to me got farther away.
I rushed down the hall, trying to catch up to Benton. He and Shaffer rounded the corner, just as a new wave of students flooded the hall. By the time I made the turn, they were gone.
I spent a solid twenty minutes searching for Benton. I must have trekked up and down the same hallway a hundred times, even looking in classrooms, without success. I texted him several times with no response. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth.
I decided to skip my English and Biology classes. My brain was in no mood for learning. Besides, attending one class naked faced was enough for me for the day.
Once I got back to the quiet of my room, I texted Risher.
Me: I’m sorry for everything. Can I get a do-over?
I sat on my bed, staring at the screen and prayed for a reply to pop up. The same theory of a watched pot never boils also applied to text messages. I could tell the message had been delivered, so I knew he’d read it. After ten minutes of Risher’s radio silence and still no response from Benton, I got up and made myself busy.
I went into the bathroom and cleaned up the mess from my morning meltdown. Makeup was splattered across the countertop and sink while various tubes and bottles were knocked over. But there was no permanent damage. The large wall mirror was still intact even after I hurled the jar of foundation at it. Thankfully, the jar was made of heavy plastic and I had the upper body strength of a newborn baby.
After the bathroom was clean, I took my time applying my makeup. Even though I survived stepping out in public au naturel, I was still more comfortable covering up. As I finished, swiping the pale pink gloss across my lips, I heard my phone chirp twice with texts. I dropped the gloss and ran to grab it.
My heart pounded so fast and hard against my chest, I thought it was going to break free. As I picked up the phone, I said a quick prayer that it was both Risher and Benton responding. Looking at the screen caused my stomach to immediately clench. I plopped down on the bed, my body suddenly feeling too heavy to stand. As I read the text, my eyes filled with tears. Not because of what they said, but because of who they were from.
Mom: Look at this cute dress I bought for you. Will be shipping it tomorrow. Hope all is well. I love you.
The picture she sent was of a long-sleeve black maxi dress with white and gray polka dots. It was really cute. My reply was short and sweet.
Me: Thanks, Mom. I love it and you.
My chest tightened reading the next message.
Maggie: What the hell happened with Risher? Chuck said he’s never seen the dude this down.
I was about to skip texting Maggie and just call her for some advice, when the door swung open and in walked Benton.
He didn’t say a word or look at me. He threw his backpack down on his bed and walked over to his dresser. He took something small out of the top drawer before heading into the bathroom. A few seconds later, he reemerged, still not acknowledging my presence. He tossed his baseball cap onto the nightstand and curled up on his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest.
Wiping my tears away, I asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I looked for you after class. Where’ve you been?”
“What are you, my mother?” He snapped.
“No!” The word came out harsher than I intended.
Silence fell between us. I had experienced pissy Benton before, but this was more than just a bad mood. The way he was holding onto the pillow was as if his life depended on it.
Cautiously, I made another attempt. “What was the deal in class?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were so antsy.”
“I hadn’t had my morning shot of caffeine. It was just withdrawals.” His voice was husky, like when crying so much left your throat raw.
“Did Shaffer say something else to you?”
Deflect and redirect was a Benton specialty.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” I said in a low voice.
“If you want to help then go get me some caffeine and leave me alone.”
His tone wasn’t mean or snarky. It was neutral… unemotional, and so not Benton.
I did as asked and gave my roommate the alone time he requested. Leaving the dorm with no specific direction mapped out, I just started walking across campus. I racked my brain for a way to apologize to Risher. Some grand gesture that would prove to him definitively that I trusted him.
Chambers had been going through a major renovation for the past year, updating and adding on to the historic campus. As I moved past the buildings, I admired how they tried to keep true to the original designs when planning the new additions. On first glance, it was hard to tell which buildings had been here for more than a hundred years and which ones were new. But up close you could see the difference. The chipped paint, the cracks in the exterior, and the discoloration of the stone were quite a contrast to the high-tech classrooms housed behind the walls.
After thirty minutes, I found myself jogging up the steps to the student center. Needing a mental break and my own caffeine fix, I headed over to the Starbucks counter. As I stood in line, waiting to place my order, my gaze scanned the room. The main area was divided into four quadrants—food court, video games, the basic bar games like pool and darts, and the lounge. The lounge was where the scanning stopped.
Sitting on one of the sofas was Risher with Leah by his side. Her legs curled under her as she snuggled into him. Her head tilted back as a loud giggle flew from her shiny lips. Flipping her head upright, she leaned in closer, whispering in his ear. All the while her long boney fingers twisting in his hair, Risher remained focused on the giant screen TV, his body frozen, his expression blank. But he didn’t push her away.
Stop! Page 16
