by Sophia Sharp
“His name is Pickles,” I explain, unclasping the latch and letting the tabby out. He stretches, hops on top of the cage and settles down, watching us. “And don’t you dare laugh. My grandma named him.”
Andrew holds his hands up defensively. “I’m not one to come between a woman and her cat,” he tells me with mock sincerity.
I decide on the spot that my fears of a bad first impression were unfounded. Andrew has a good sense of humor. He did not judge me once.
“That your car?” Andrew asks.
I look over my shoulder at the red Volkswagen Beetle. “Also my grandma’s,” I correct.
“Okay. But this has to be your stuff, right? I hope your grandma’s not the one moving in.”
I laugh. “Yeah. All my stuff.”
“Great!” Andrew surprises me by grabbing two suitcases off the ground. He turns toward the building. “You gonna help me with the door, or what? Chivalry only goes so far, and besides, I’ve only got two hands.”
***
Fifteen minutes later we’ve hauled all the stuff to my room on the seventh floor. I say “hauled” because the elevator was busted and we had to use the stairs.
“That’s everything, then,” Andrew announces as he sets the last of my bags down in the living room. “You didn’t forget your cat, did you?”
“Pickles?” I call out. When he doesn’t come, I shrug. “He’s probably out exploring. He’ll find his way back.”
Andrew nods. “Okay.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks at me as if he’s waiting for me to add something else.
I can’t think of anything to say. Maybe my mind would work better if I hadn’t spent all day driving across the country. Like an idiot, I rock on my heels and let the silence stretch.
When Andrew sees he’s not going to get another word from me, he clears his throat. “Just a heads up,” he says. “I’m not sure if the dean allows pets on campus. I won’t tell, but if you want to keep Pickles around, I’d suggest staying on the good side of your roommates.”
“Noted,” I nod. “Thanks for the tip.”
“No problem.” Andrew looks at me again, waiting for me to say something else. When I don’t, he starts for the door.
“Hey, hold on,” I call out just as he’s about to step out. He turns back. “I, um, really do appreciate your help.”
Andrew smiles. “Please. I couldn’t let a girl like you struggle all alone.”
He winks, and just like that, is out the door.
***
I stare at the closed door after Andrew leaves. I wonder what he meant by his comment: A girl like you.
Eventually, I dismiss trying to gopher out any hidden meaning. I’m out of practice with boys. Not that I ever had much practice, but between taking care of my sick grandma and trying to earn the last of my high school credits online, my batting average for the past twelve months has been a big fat zero.
My grandma had been the one who raised me. I’d cried hard when she died eight weeks ago.
My real mother had me when she was fifteen. She was not ready. For the first eight years of my life, I’d thought my mom was a wild older sister. Because of that, I’d always considered my grandma as my only real parent.
I turn around, pushing those thoughts from my mind. Going to college is a fresh start. I don’t need the past clouding up my future anymore.
With Andrew gone, I have a chance to really look at my dorm. My bags make the living room seem smaller than it really is. A window overlooks campus to one side. There’s a little kitchenette in the corner. A hallway beside it leads to the bedrooms and bathroom.
My academic scholarship only covers the cost of tuition at Laurier U. I still have to pay for room and board. This dorm is my attempt to stay frugal. I’m to share it with three other girls—splitting rent four ways.
I debate unpacking, but honestly, I’m exhausted. I’ll get my things out of the way tomorrow morning, when I’m fresh and rested. My roommates aren’t due to arrive before then.
I walk down the hall to check out the bathroom. There’s a small shower stall adorned with a cloudy brown, rubber curtain. I grimace as I pull it back. It’s dirty. I wonder how long it’s been hanging there. The first order of business, after getting settled, is finding something much cuter to replace it.
I wander back out. Two doors lead to the bedrooms. I open the first and peek inside. A bunk bed stands against the far wall. There are two desks close together on the wall to my left, a closet, and one standing halogen lamp. It’s relatively clean, but unremarkable. I start planning ways to spruce up the place and make it homier as I stroll back into the hall.
I’m lost in thought as I open the final door. With only two bedrooms for four girls, each of us will have a roomie—unless we decide to convert the living room into a walk-through bedroom. That way, only two of us will have to share a bedroom, and we can even switch halfway through the year…
I’m ripped from my thoughts when I realize I’m not alone in the room.
No, far from it. The walls must be thick for me not to have heard them before.
There is a couple on the lower bunk. A nude couple. The guy is pumping his hips into the girl beneath him. The muscles of his arms and chest tighten with every thrust. She’s writhing with pleasure. I can’t see her face, but the sounds she’s making tell me she’s bathed in ecstasy.
I can’t move. I’m stuck, halfway through the doorway, with one hand on the doorknob and the other still covering my gaping mouth. This is quite a welcome.
Memories of my teens flash through my mind: My grandmother chastising me for wanting to go to the eighth grade dance with a boy. The mantra drilled into me at the all-girls’ boarding school I attended the last four years that sex is bad. The way my whole life has been structured to teach me the dangers of pre-marital sex.
The moans get louder. The strangers are completely absorbed in each other. The guy has long, straight, dark hair that falls a little over his eyes. A sleek tribal tattoo decorates his shoulders and upper back. The girl is blonde.
I step back, hoping to get away without notice. The floor dips beneath my foot. A long, slow creak sounds.
The guy’s head jerks up, and our eyes meet. I gasp.
He slows down. For some reason, he doesn’t seem startled, or surprised, or even fazed to find me there.
“Spencer, what the hell?” the girl below him complains. “Why’d you stop?”
“It looks like we’ve got company,” he says slowly, never taking his eyes from me. His irises are a pale gray, framed by long, dark lashes.
It’s funny the things you notice when all the blood has drained from your head.
“Company?” the girl asks. “What…?” She starts to twist over…
I break from my stupor. Before she can see me, I turn and slam the door shut, then steady myself against it.
My heart is racing. I feel too hot. The way that guy—Spencer?—looked at me… there was something very primal in his stare. The memory of it is enough to trigger a full body flush.
I need a drink. I need some air.
I push myself off the door and make a beeline for the bathroom. I turn on the tap and splash cold water over my face. Again, and again, and again.
The way the guy looked at me… the low rumble of his voice… his half-lidded eyes… it did things to me. Unusual, unexpected things. Bad things.
I straighten—and jump again. The guy with the long hair is leaning against the doorframe. Watching me. I’m immediately conscious of just how little room there is in the bathroom for the two of us.
I meet his gaze for a second. Then I drop my eyes to the floor. I can’t look at him after what I just walked in on.
I try my hardest not to notice his body, either. He’s only wearing a pair of sweats, hastily pulled up. The hard lines of his abs and chest beg to be looked at.
I force myself to keep my eyes on the ground.
“Hello,” he says. His voice is gravelly, yet smooth. It’s a
contradiction. Everything about him screams, SEX! “Do I make you nervous?”
“Ner—nervous? No.” I shake my head vigorously, glad for the curtain of hair that has fallen in front of my face. I think I’m trying to convince myself more than anything. “No. Not nervous. No.”
“Are you sure?” His speech is slow and controlled. Almost lazy. “I’m afraid if I touch you, you’ll jump like you’ve been scalded.”
“I…scalded? No.” I try to step past him. “Excuse me.”
He doesn’t move. He just stands there, arms crossed under his chest, watching me. The stance makes his muscles pop. “Who are you?”
“I live here, that’s who!” I exclaim. I flinch as soon as the words are out of my mouth. I know they don’t make any sense.
But it’s not my fault that my brain is so garbled! How is it fair that this guy can make me feel so fluttery and uncertain of myself?
“You live here,” he repeats. I dare a peek up. The bastard is smirking at me! “That’s how you define yourself as a person?”
Out of nowhere, I feel my temper rising. I don’t know if I’m more angry with myself for acting like such a dolt, or with him for standing there, egging me on.
“Yes, that’s how I define myself as a person,” I mimic, making a face. I brush by him into the hall. Our shoulders touch, and I feel a little spark of electricity run through me. That’s weird. “I’m sorry for not expecting to walk in on some random guy screwing his girlfriend my first night in my dorm! And I’m even more sorry for not feeling like I have to explain myself any more to you!”
The guy looks at me like I’m insane. Then understanding dawns on his face. He barks a laugh. “Is that what this is all about? You walking in on us?” He shakes his head. “That’s no big deal, I swear.”
“Maybe not to you,” I grumble under my breath. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. I don’t like that knowing smirk on his face. Most of all, I don’t like the way his presence turns my brain to mush.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he adds, eyes sparkling. He taps his lips then curves his finger toward me with a wink. “My guess is that she’s your roommate.”
The door at the end of the hall opens. The girl comes out. She’d tied her golden hair back, and is wearing a pink t-shirt that falls to her knees. A blue LMFAO logo is emblazoned on the front.
She comes up to the guy and looks me over. “Is she one of yours?” she asks him.
“Not yet.” His words are quiet, but there’s an edge to them. I can feel his eyes on me. It’s almost like a physical thing.
I’ve had enough. “No, I’m not one of his,” I snap. “Apparently, I’m your roommate, except I didn’t think there would be anybody else here today.” I point an accusing finger at the girl. “You’re not supposed to move in until tomorrow, so excuse me for not expecting to find you in there busy with a guy. Maybe it’s my fault that I didn’t knock, but I spent all day driving from Utah to North Dakota in the sweltering heat in a tiny car with a broken A.C. I’m tired, exhausted, cranky, and probably a little overwhelmed at walking in on my roommate having sex with her freaking boyfriend!”
My chest is heaving by the end of the tirade.
Two things happen next.
First, the guy starts to laugh. Apparently something I said is supremely humorous.
Second, the girl’s eyes widen a little. Then they narrow, taking me in. Then she smiles and steps toward me.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” the guy says again, still laughing.
The girl comes right up to me. “I didn’t know you were my roommate.” She offers her hand. “I’m Katy. He’s Spencer.”
I manage a weak smile back. I’ve made a complete fool of myself with the outburst. “Paige.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Spencer jumps. “There’s a cat in here!”
I look up to see Pickles walk toward me through the guys legs, as proud as if he owns the place. “Pickles!” I cry out. The cat trots up to me.
“Pickles?” Spencer smirks. “That’s the cat’s name?”
The remark makes my cheeks grow warm. Unlike with Andrew, I feel like Spencer’s is judging me for the name.
“He was my grandma’s,” I mumble under my breath.
“Well, I’m not a fan of cats,” he announces. “If I stick around too long they make my eyes water.” He pushes off the wall and starts for the door. He slaps Katy’s ass as he passes by. “Thanks for the good time, babe.”
“Do you want your shirt back?” she asks uncertainly.
“Keep it,” he winks from the door. “Think of it as a souvenir.”
He walks out the door, wearing nothing but those loose sweat pants.
Chapter Two
“So, who was that again?” I ask Katy once we’re alone.
She looks at the door and sighs wistfully. “Spencer Ashford. Also known as Laurier’s walking one-night stand.”
“Seems like sort of an asshole to me,” I note.
Katy grins. “That’s part of his charm.”
“I don’t see what can be all that charming about it,” I sniff.
“You’ll learn soon enough. He’s got his eye on you. I can tell.”
That’s so ridiculous I have to laugh. “Me? Nuh-uh. I don’t think so. I’m not his type. Besides, aren’t the two of you…” I trail off, searching for the right word while circling my hand in the air, “…together?”
Katy laughs this time. “I wish. There’s no way I can be the one to tame Spencer Ashford. Many girls have tried. Many have failed.”
I cock my head to the side. “So that’s it, then? You’re not going to see him again?”
Katy raises her eyebrows. She’s really pretty no matter what her expression is. “Hey, it’s not my fault, is it? I’m just lucky I got to spend one night with him.” She looks at me. “Despite being cut off early.”
I clear my throat and shift my shoulders. “Yeah, um, sorry… about all that.”
Katy laughs and embraces me in a hug. “I’m teasing! I’d rather meet my new roommate any day.”
That makes me smile. I feel better right away. “Thanks.”
“Sure. Do you need any help unpacking?”
“No, no, you don’t need to do that,” I say. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow morning.”
Katy rolls her eyes and takes my hand. “Come on. If that story you told about driving all day is true, I doubt you want to wake up early to unpack. And I’m here anyway. I want to help and get to know my roomie.”
***
It takes half an hour to lug all my suitcases to the bedroom and get them unpacked. But having Katy around energizes me. It’s good to make a new friend. Since we get along, we decide to bunk together. I mention my idea of a walk-through bedroom to her. She says the other girls can set that up between them if they want.
Katy is from Canada. Despite that, I haven’t heard her say “eh” even once. She grins mischievously, and promises it’ll pop out sooner or later.
Once everything is unpacked, and just before I head to the shower, Katy turns the conversation to Spencer again.
I shake my head. “I really don’t see what is so special about the guy.”
Katy laughs. “You say that now. Just be sure not to say it in his presence. It will only make him more interested.”
“I don’t know why you think he’d be interested,” I say, digging a towel out of my bag. “I think he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. Besides, doesn’t it feel kind of strange, knowing that you two… you know?”
“I’m nothing to him anymore,” Katy explains. “He’s had me once, and already he’s probably thinking about his next conquest. Hell, he probably has his dick between some other girl’s legs right now.”
“Katy!”
“What?” she laughs. “I’m a realist. I’m not degrading myself, if that’s your worry. I’m able to accept things for what they are. I know I’m never going to be anything more than another notch on Spencer’s proverbial belt.”
She grins. “I like sex. I’m not ashamed of it. Spencer’s good at it. Plus, I’d rather be me than one of those sorry girls who start to cry when they get left behind in the morning.” She scoffs. “Talk about a lack of self-respect.”
“But if they know he’s going to leave, why would they even…” I trail off again. “…You know.”
“Sleep with him? Fuck him? Come on, girl, you can say it! This is college, not grade school. If you’re going to start blushing every time I have a guy over, maybe you should bunk with one of our other roomies.”
I stop, unsure of what to say…
Katy nudges my shoulder. “I’m teasing, Paige! It doesn’t happen that often, I swear. You’ve got to loosen up a bit.”
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m not usually like this. Just pooped from the road, I guess.”
“All right, that makes sense. Still, you want to know why? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe each of them thinks she’s going to be that special little flower that changes Spencer’s ways. If you ask me,” she concludes, “it’s a lost cause.”
“Well, I’m not going to be like that,” I pronounce.
Katy looks at me for a long time without saying anything. Then she beams. “You know what, I think I believe you. You and I are going to be great friends.”
Chapter Three
I wake up with the sun the next morning. I’ve always been an early riser.
Katy is still asleep in the bunk above mine, so I tiptoe out of the room and close the door. Officially, freshman move-in begins at noon today. I’ve still got a few hours before campus becomes a beehive.
I shower, change, and head out to look for breakfast. The dining halls aren’t open for another week, but maybe I find some food at one of the small cafés dotting campus.
“Paige!”
I turn around, surprised to hear my name called out. I find Andrew jogging up to me. He’s decked out in workout gear.
