by Diana Gardin
“So take your pick,” Drew slurred.
“Of what?” I really wasn’t in the mood for this shit tonight.
“Um, dude,” Drew answered. “Blonde, redhead, or brunette? Or you could even go exotic. It’s a tough choice, I know, but you gotta make it.” He slapped me hard on the back, and I almost sprayed an arc of beer onto the well-worn carpet.
I grabbed his hand and jerked it from my shoulder. “Not tonight.”
I walked back to the couch where, luckily, the redhead was gone. I sat down and propped my feet up on the coffee table. I don’t know why we bothered to keep adding a coffee table to this room. During our parties, someone eventually fell on top of it and broke it. Then we had to shop the garage sales and Craigslist for a new one.
I knew why I was in such a black mood tonight. The girl from the bookstore. I usually never thought about a girl longer than it took to get her out of my bed the next day.
But I couldn’t get this one out of my mind.
Even during one of our Friday-night ragers, I was thinking about her.
I hadn’t even gotten her name. But she went to school here, so I hoped I’d see her again.
Ugh, what was wrong with me? I never hoped I’d see a girl again! I usually hoped exactly the opposite.
Our old plaid couch sagged next to me. My other roommate, Rob, sat down and sprawled out. He was clearly more sober than Drew, which was usually the case.
“What’s up, man?” he asked.
“Just not feeling it tonight, dude,” I answered.
“Clay Forbes, not feeling a party? I ask again—what’s up?”
I considered telling him. But I was making a big deal about nothing. I’d probably wake up tomorrow and forget all about the bookstore mystery girl.
And her short-but-sleek dark brown hair that hung in her eyes a little when she looked at me And her creamy skin that seemed untouched by the blazing August sun that the rest of the girls tried so hard to scorch themselves with.
And her perfect, full lips that I’d had a hard time keeping my eyes off of.
I shook my head vigorously.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I told Rob.
He eyed me strangely. “Okay dude. I know your fine, and this ain’t it.” He ran a hand over his nearly bald head. His chocolate brown forehead was gleaming from the heat in the room. Chicks dug Rob’s bald head. They liked to run their hands all over it.
He patted my shoulder and stood up, wandering off toward the keg.
I shook my head as he went. Rob was always sort of a loner, even though half the girls, if not three quarters, wanted to bang his lights out. A star soccer player on this campus could get an insane amount of quick lays.
I shook my head again, downed my entire red solo cup of beer, and went to grab another.
Paige
“What are you doing?”
I glanced up, surprised by the scathing tone in Gillian’s voice.
“I’m reading my Psych book. Why?”
“Because, Paige, it’s Saturday night! You can’t stay on the couch reading your Psych book! You’re in college! You have to live a little!”
I shrugged. “This is living, Gill. After what I’ve been through, this is living.” I resumed thumbing through my textbook, hoping she’d start getting ready again and forget about me. I pressed myself further into the couch to blend in.
She marched over and snatched the book out of my hands.
“Gillian!”
“You’re not doing this tonight, Paige. Classes start on Monday. You can crack this book open then. That’s when I’m going to open mine. But tonight, you’re coming out with me.”
She nodded her head emphatically and her chestnut locks waved at me.
I sighed. When Gillian was this determined, I couldn’t argue with her. “What should I wear?”
A satisfied smile spread across her lips. “Something short and tight, chick.”
I walked off to my room and opened my closet, staring dejectedly at the row of clothes hanging with tags still attached. Gillian took me shopping this summer for “going-out clothes,” even though it was ridiculous to have an entire wardrobe of clothes worn only at night.
I selected a sparkly tank that dipped low in the front and a denim mini. I had to summon the courage to buy the top. I usually chose clothes that hid my scars, but Gillian convinced me I didn’t need to do that any more. After months of skin graft surgery, my damaged skin was still visible, but nowhere near the angry, shiny mess it had been after the fire. The puckered skin covering the left side of my face was the one I was most self-conscious about.
“That’s perfect. Why hide those perky boobs of yours? God gave ‘em to you; you need to flaunt those babies.” Gillian nodded in approval of my outfit as she entered my room.
I stared into my full-length mirror, my brow furrowing. Since the fire, I didn’t look at myself the same way I used to. My body was a source of pain and embarrassment now. I didn’t want to show it off.
I was going out tonight to make Gillian happy, and it was going to be an early night for me. I couldn’t think of anything that could possibly make me want to stay at this party.
Three
Paige
“Where are we?” I looked around the large apartment complex, biting my lip. I shook my head, allowing my hair to fall over the left side of my face.
“The apartment of some guys I know. They’re seniors, but they’re really nice. They’re also soccer players, and they have crazy parties almost every weekend. This is the perfect place for you to just let loose a little, and have some fun for a change.”
I doubted this, but we were here and we were going in and I already knew I couldn’t argue with Gillian.
The booming music greeted me before we opened the door, pulsating into my veins and melding with the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat. The party was clearly in full swing, and I was nervous to be stepping into an apartment full of people I didn’t know. Drunk, sweaty, partying people I didn’t know. Gillian opened the front door, which was on the second floor of a student-only complex. Most of the complexes in our college town were filled with off-campus college students.
The dimly lit living room was full of colorful globe lamps lining the bar beyond. People stood wall-to-wall in the nearly empty room. A couch sat off to one side and the entertainment area that housed a TV atop a wooden cabinet. Beyond the bar into the kitchen, more people stood around in groups holding red solo cups filled with what I assumed was beer or punch.
I turned around to walk right back out the door.
“Don’t even think about it,” Gillian hissed in my ear, grabbing the back of my shirt. “This is good for you, Paige. We don’t have to stay for hours. Just hang out with me for a bit, and if you hate it, we’ll leave.”
She softened her voice. “Please?”
I nodded as her eyes roved the room. “Who are you looking for?”
“We’re meeting some of my friends from the fashion department here. I thought it would be good for you to get a head start meeting some new faces before classes start on Monday.”
That was a good idea. Since Gillian was starting her sophomore year and I was only going to be a freshman, she had a leg-up on me in the social department. Once again, the realization hit me that the fire had placed roadblocks in the path of my life. The differences flashed like a neon sign in my head. I was different than everyone else.
Gillian squealed and pulled me to the tiny kitchen, where three girls were standing wearing outfits with lots of sparkles, swoops, and ties. We’d found the fashionistas from Gillian’s classes.
“Hey girls!” Gillian had to shout to be heard over the music. “This is my best friend and roommate I told you about. She’s starting her freshman year, remember?”
They smiled at me and nodded. “Paige, this is Kelly, Maven, and Tima. Us fashion girls stick together.”
I smiled at each of the girls and gazed out into the living room. I was out of place and nervous anxi
ety built up in my stomach, making it tight and itchy. I might never get used to this.
Tima leaned over and spoke into my ear. “You look like this isn’t your scene. Do you want a drink? It always helps me loosen up a little.”
I liked her instantly. Her voice was warm and friendly, cinnamon buns on a winter morning. The wild curls in her dark hair tickled my ear when she talked to me.
I smiled at her gratefully. “Definitely not used to all of this. A drink would be good, I think. What do they have?”
“Beer and punch,” she answered. She wrinkled her nose. “The punch gets scooped out of a giant trash can. You might want to go with a beer.”
I laughed. This was what the college life was like. “A trash can, really? A beer then.”
She reached into a cooler, grabbed a sweaty can, and handed it to me. “Here you go. How do you like Rutherford so far?”
I shrugged. “If you’ve lived in one southern town, you’ve sort of experienced them all. Not much different than Simpsonville.”
I opened the can and sipped the coldish froth, surveying the party as I did so. A song, well known by the room, erupted from the speakers and the partygoers roared in appreciation.
“Let’s dance!” Gillian’s friend Maven yelled, and Gillian grabbed my drink-free hand and pulled me out to the crowded living room floor.
As we stood in a group and swayed to the music, a tall lanky guy with dark blond hair slicked back with shiny gel walked up behind Gillian and grabbed her around the waist. She screeched and turned. I was ready to throw my drink on him, but then she smiled up at him.
“Drew!” she squealed. “Yay! Meet my roommate. This is Paige!”
He grinned at me, appraising my short skirt. “Nice to meet you Paige. I figured you’d be a hottie, living with Gill here. Nice to meet you.”
I blushed and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“How are you liking being a small fish in a small town on a small campus?”
“It’s scary,” I admitted.
“Don’t worry, Paige. We won’t bite. I’m gonna introduce you to my roommates…” he looked around the room dizzily. “As soon as I can find them.”
“Thanks,” I smiled. “I’d love to meet them.”
I smoothed my skirt and attempted to pull up my top to a classier level, failed, and sighed. I was ready for this night to be over. I spotted a patio door over in the corner, and I whispered to Tima that I was going to get some air.
Clay
I walked toward Drew, who was talking to a group of hotties. I was doing a better job now of keeping my shit together and losing myself in the party. The beer, the girls, this was my senior year of college. I was going to live it up.
Meeting one girl at the bookstore who’d taken up residence in my head wasn’t going to derail my whole year. That’d be crazy.
“Bro!” Drew exclaimed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You know Kelly, Tima, Gillian, and Maven, right?”
Right. I’d met the tall one with light brown hair and the hot blond before. The other blond, the curvier one, was a girlfriend of one of our teammates.
“Yeah. How’re you girls doing tonight?”
The one named Kelly giggled and smiled. I liked gigglers. They were a little on the wild side when I got their clothes off.
I knew Gillian from around school, and I didn’t have a shot. She was more fun than the gigglers, but she was more of the relationship type.
“Good,” she answered, looking around the room like she was searching for someone.
“Where’d Paige, my roommate, go?” she asked her friends.
“Balcony,” the exotic-looking one answered. She nodded and sipped her drink, looking toward the French doors.
Hell, I hadn’t known Gillian had a roommate. Maybe I should check her out. I was getting ready to head in the direction of the balcony when Hannah Davis came surging through the front door.
Hannah was a regular fling of mine. We’d started out in the same dorm as freshman, and I just couldn’t shake her. A relationship between us would never work though. Hannah was too much of a bitch. But she was an easy roll in my bed, and we kept going back to each other after a long night of partying. Her eyes locked with mine and I paused.
The crooked line Hannah drew as she walked across the room said that she had already been partying somewhere else before she’d arrived. I rolled my eyes.
Why was all of this feeling so old and tired all of a sudden?
“Hey, baby,” Hannah drawled. “Your date’s here. Right on time, huh?”
She threaded her fingers through mine, pulling on my arm a little as she sidled up next to me.
“I’m not your baby,” I replied. “Not in the mood tonight, Hannah.”
She looked up at me in surprise, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “That’s a new one. What crawled up your ass?”
“I’m just not in the market for sleepovers right now, okay? Nothing personal. Just not into it.”
“What the hell?” she snarled. “Has Clay Forbes gone and gotten a new regular treat in his bed at night?”
“No,” I snapped. “Hannah Davis has just gone and gotten old. Drinks are at the bar. Have another.”
I walked away, shaking my head.
What was wrong with me? I turned around, thinking maybe I should take Hannah back to my room and snap out of it.
Then the balcony door opened, and my bookstore girl walked into the room, looking like my every fantasy come to life.
Four
Paige
I stood there a moment, my mouth hanging open, before I turned and closed the balcony door behind me. I also took a moment to count backwards from ten before turning back around to face the guy I’d met at the bookstore a few days ago. Clay.
I knew he went to school here, but I honestly hadn’t expected to run into him again so soon.
And now he was walking toward me.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I answered, smoothing my too-short mini self-consciously. Why had I let Gillian talk me into wearing it? My scars were visible everywhere. And I had never wanted to hide them as much as I did right now.
He let his eyes run from my face and down my body, traveling slowly to my wedge heels and back up again. When his eyes met mine they were…what? Was that interest? As in…attraction? To me?
“So, I didn’t get to introduce myself the other day, did I?” he asked with the ghost of a grin on his face.
“No, you did. In between bouts of making fun of me,” I answered. I smiled, against my will.
“Oh I wasn’t making fun,” he quipped. “I was teasing. There’s a difference. Don’t you know boys tease girls they like?”
My eyes widened. Was he teasing me now? He couldn’t like me. He didn’t even know me.
“I think I’ve heard that somewhere,” I said cautiously. “I’m Paige Hill.”
I stuck out my hand for him to shake.
He took it, holding it in both of his. “Again, I’m Clay Forbes. I live here.”
“Oh, you do?” I scanned the room, searching for Gillian. “Then you probably know my roommate, Gillian.”
Recognition crossed his face. He did know her.
“You’re the roommate?” he asked. “Damn. I knew I should have gone out to that balcony.”
Whoa. This guy, Clay, was acting all kinds of flirtatious tonight.
“I’m guessing you’re this sweet to all the girls,” I assessed, rolling my eyes.
As if on cue, a stumbling redhead boasting a voluptuous body currently poured into a short black dress staggered out of the kitchen, red cup clutched in her hand.
Ew. She was drinking the trash can punch.
She spied me talking to Clay and looked me up and down with bloodshot eyes. She made a beeline in our direction, and I could smell the drama rolling off of her in waves. Not to mention the liquor.
I took a step back. Clay noticed, and took a step closer to me. What was his deal?
>
“Hey babycakes, you come to your senses yet?”
She leaned into him, her large breasts squishing against his arm, and bile rose in my throat. She whispered loudly enough for me to hear every word. “Let’s. Go. To. Bed.”
Oh. So he was exactly what I though he was. A player. A man-whore, even. I spotted Gillian across the room and veered off in her direction.
