You’re the Reason

by J. Nathan

  I stumbled my way over to the curb and sat down. My head throbbed and my stomach roiled, though I couldn’t imagine anything was left inside me. I pulled a pack of wintergreen gum from my pocket and stuffed three pieces into my mouth, contemplating my next move.

  I could go back in and let Chantel know I was leaving, if she even noticed I disappeared. I could try to walk back to the dorm without face-planting somewhere along the way—if I could remember the way back. Or, I could call an Uber in hopes that they knew where my dorm was.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice called, cutting through the silent darkness.

  My body stiffened.

  Footsteps approached, and a tall guy with dark hair and light blue eyes stood there, glaring down at me. “I said what are you doing?”

  “No, you said what the fuck are you doing.”

  His eyes absorbed the details of my face with disdain. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What’s your problem? You scared your little party’s gonna get broken up if someone sees me out here?” I gasped mockingly. “All that wasted beer and unused condoms. The horror.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  “Not any funnier than you out here reprimanding me, frat boy.”

  He dragged his hands through his hair as his head dropped back. “What the fuck?”

  I unsteadily pushed myself to my feet, praying to God I didn’t fall face first in front of him. “No worries, frat boy. I was leaving anyway.”

  He grabbed my arm, his grip tight as he stopped me from going anywhere. “Don’t come back here.”

  A wave of nausea washed over me. “Excuse me?”

  He clenched his teeth. “You’re not an Alpha Phi which makes you unwelcome here.”

  A cold chill rushed up my spine, but I maintained my composure. “No problem. Your party sucked anyway.” I turned and walked in the direction I hoped my dorm was in, putting one foot in front of the other and trying to appear steady. Because despite his harsh tone and rudeness, the bastard stood on the curb, watching me until I disappeared into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Where’d you take off to?” Chantel asked as she breezed through the door of our room the following morning. She wore the same clothes she’d worn the previous night, but looked no less put together.

  I sat up, trying not to puke as the sunlight filtering into the room intensified my throbbing headache. “Y’all were having so much fun. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Did you hook up with anyone?” Chantel asked, slipping out of her wedges.

  “Um, no.”

  “Not even Ryan?” She shimmied out of her denim skirt and stood there in a tiny thong—as if it were normal to walk around someone you just met that way. “I saw you talking to him.”

  “He was nice. Just not really my type.”

  She grabbed her bath robe and slipped into it. “What is your type?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I’ll know when I meet him.”

  She turned to the closet and retrieved her toiletries.

  “How long have you been with your boyfriend?” I asked.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said.

  “Oh, I just thought the guy you danced with…and then you didn’t come home…”

  She laughed as she turned to me. “I want Chase to be my boyfriend. But he’s so busy with frat stuff and family stuff. He said if he had time for a girlfriend, it would be me.”

  I nodded, understanding not wanting to string someone along if you had a full plate.

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t make him change his mind,” she said with a sly smile.

  I laughed, knowing from the brief time we’d spent together, that Chantel was someone who definitely got what she wanted.

  ***

  Chantel slept soundly as I slipped out of our dorm room on Monday morning. Being a transfer student, I got whatever classes were available—which meant eight o’clock classes every morning for me.

  I trekked across campus, admiring the beauty of the quad—the old cobblestone buildings with their castle-topped roofs and sidewalks lined with blooming magnolia trees. I pulled in a breath of fresh air, albeit ninety-five-degree air, but it wasn’t accompanied by a puff of cold air leaving my mouth like most mornings in Maine.

  I found Roper Hall and climbed the steps to the old building, scanning the room numbers as I hurried down the nearly empty hallway. I stepped inside the classroom, realizing I must’ve been the only one who wanted to be early on their first day because all thirty desks sat empty.

  Not wanting to be an overachiever, I moved toward the back of the room and slipped into the last seat in the second row.

  Other students entered the room a short time later, taking seats all around the classroom until every desk was filled.

  An older professor walked in and dropped his briefcase loudly on the front desk, purposely grabbing all of our attention. He handed out papers to the first person in each row, which they passed back to us, then addressed the class. “I’m Professor Irons. This is History 356, aka History through Film. If you’re in the wrong place, this is your one chance to escape.”

  The girl in the desk beside mine grabbed her bag and hurried out of the room, nearly knocking over the guy stepping through the door at the same time.

  “Whoa,” he laughed as she hurried off. “The class that bad?” he called after her.

  Everyone around me snickered as he stepped into the classroom, his cool swagger and easy smile an attention grabber. He eyed the room for an available seat, spotting the only one beside me. His blue eyes cut to mine, narrowing upon contact.

  Frat boy.

  Visible annoyance swept over his features, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I did to him to elicit such disdain. He walked down the first aisle and slouched into the last seat next to me, his long legs extending into the aisle.

  I tried to focus on the professor and his lecture on the depiction of historical battles in films, but the pull to look beside me clawed at my sanity. What had I done to this guy? I hadn’t even seen him inside the party. Had he really been that concerned that I might risk getting their party broken up?

  As much as I hated to admit it, the darkness outside the frat house hadn’t done the asshole justice. He was hot as hell. All built and stylish without even trying. And those lips, so perfect and full. Now I understood what people meant when they used a cupid’s bow to describe someone’s lips. Such a waste of hotness on someone so evil.

  Professor Irons played a clip of a war in an old black and white movie I’d never heard of, pointing out the accuracy of the soldiers’ formation as they stormed an enemy field.

  Unable to stop myself, I looked to frat boy and whispered, “What’s your problem?”

  He turned to look at me with that same angry scowl I saw the night of the party. “What?”

  “I’m not whoever you think I am.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  Asshole. “Well, there’s gotta be a reason you’re such a jerk.”

  He scoffed before his blue eyes focused back on the movie, just in time to see the soldier on screen get impaled with a bayonet.

  Oh, the irony.

  “Perfection,” Professor Irons said as he turned off the clip, flipped on the light, and dismissed us with the promise of an upcoming project.

  I slipped my laptop into my bag and stood up. Frat boy had already left. Good riddance.

  The remainder of my day was a lot less eventful, as frat boy wasn’t in any of my other classes. I stopped by a campus coffee shop, grabbed a coffee and bagel, and sat at a table in the back. In no rush to get back to the dorm, I pulled out my laptop and typed the first paragraph of my essay for my Women and Literature course.

  “Hey,” Chantel said, appearing out of nowhere. “How was your first day?”

  “Oh, hey. Good.”

  She smiled, not a hair out of place on her head as usual, whereas I’d be
en up since seven thirty and had a nest for a ponytail.

  “How were your classes?” I asked her.

  “My first class starts at two.”

  “Note to self. No eight o’clock classes for me next semester.”

  She smiled. “Well, I just wanted to say hey when I spotted you back here. And to make sure you weren’t avoiding me.”

  “No,” I assured her. “I just find I work better with a little noise.”

  She winked. “I was just kidding. Maybe we can grab dinner tonight.”

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  ***

  A few hours later, I entered the code on our door and it unlocked. I pushed it open and stumbled back a couple steps when I found frat boy sprawled out on my bed. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Ummm,” Chantel said.

  My eyes shot to her standing in front of the mirror on our closet door.

  “He’s with me.”

  My face fell, a hundred thoughts playing through my mind.

  “This is Chase,” Chantel said. “Didn’t I introduce you at the party?”

  I removed my backpack and placed it on my desk chair. “Nope.” I glanced to him, unmoving on my bed. “Do you mind?”

  “Chase, that’s Sophia’s bed,” Chantel said, urging him to move with her tone of voice.

  He didn’t. “You don’t mind me laying here, do you Sophia?” he asked, his voice all deep and smooth, knowing full well I wanted his ass off my bed and out of my room.

  “Actually, I do. I’ve always been taught frat boys carry STDs.”

  Chantel laughed. Chase didn’t.

  “Sophia’s a history major just like you,” Chantel informed him.

  He didn’t respond, just stared me with those blue eyes, all cold and narrowed.

  “I’m ready,” she said, turning and walking toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  He swung his legs off my bed and stood, his towering figure imposing in our small space. He was nauseatingly good looking. His T-shirt stretched across his sculpted chest, and the sleeves molded around his muscular biceps. He was definitely an athlete.

  Chantel pulled open the door. “See you later, Sophia.”

  “Don’t catch anything,” I called as Chase followed her into the hallway without giving me another look.

  The door clicked shut behind them. I stared at the door for a long time, my mind reeling.

  Frat Boy was Chantel’s man.

  I needed that thought to settle for a bit. But it didn’t make any sense. Why did the sight of me elicit such a cold reaction in him? Did Chantel not like me? Had I ruined her plan to have a single room this year? Had he planned to stay over every night and now he couldn’t?

  What the hell?

  This was definitely not the start to the year I’d been hoping for.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I found myself wandering Baker Hall the following day searching for room 500. It didn’t help that the room numbers didn’t go in any certain order, jumping from 520 to 505.

  “Sophia?”

  I spun around to find Valerie walking toward me. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail really showing her dark eyes and heart-shaped face. “Hey.”

  “You look lost.”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  She laughed. “Where are you headed?”

  I held up the schedule on my phone. “Room 500.”

  “That’s a lecture hall. It’s down there at the end.”

  I sighed. “Thanks. You don’t happen to be in Art History, do you?”

  She shook her head. “Already took it. Let me know if you have Professor Barnes, and I’ll share my notes from last year.”

  “Thanks.”

  A large group passed by, heading to the lecture hall.

  “I better go get a seat.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Do you wanna grab dinner tonight? I can stop by on my way to the dining hall.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. See ya later.” With that she spun away and hurried down the hallway.

  I headed in the opposite direction, finding the lecture hall at the end of the hall. I stepped through the door, and the room opened up to a five-hundred seat auditorium. I started up the stairs toward the back of the room, preferring to always sit in the back row. Unfortunately, every seat was taken. So, I relented, slipping into the aisle seat of the second to last row.

  As more students made their way into the lecture hall, I scrolled through the newsfeed on my phone, checking on the college soccer scores at my friends’ schools.

  “Okay, settle in everyone. I’m Professor Barnes and this is Art History.”

  I tucked my phone away and looked to the female professor. Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.

  Freaking great.

  Chase.

  He was staring at me from the opposite side of the room.

  I refrained from flipping him the bird and averted my gaze.

  This campus clearly wasn’t big enough for the two of us.

  ***

  I was watching Netflix on our television when someone knocked on the door. I rolled off my bed and hurried to answer it.

  Valerie stood there. “Ready for dinner?

  “Oh, right.”

  Her face fell. “Did you forget?”

  I shook my head. Since Chantel blew me off the night before for Chase, and I ended up eating alone, I figured that Valerie only offered to be nice and wouldn’t show. “Let me just throw on my shoes.”

  The walk to the dining hall was a quick one, but enough time for Valerie to fill me in on her first couple days of classes. Inside, we grabbed sandwiches, and I grabbed chocolate cake, before we made our way over to a small table by the window overlooking campus.

  “This is a lot nicer than my last school’s dining hall,” I said, glancing around the vast space. Hungry students sat at long tables and music played softly from speakers. “It’s bigger and there are so many more food options.”

  “If you’re a Texas girl, what made you go to Maine?” Valerie asked before biting into her sandwich.

  I contemplated letting her in. Letting her know what a huge mistake I made by leaving Texas. Letting her in on what I’d lost because of it. But in the end, I just kept it simple. “I thought I needed to get away.”

  “Now?”

  “I’m definitely a Texas girl.” I pressed my fork into my cake and took a bite, savoring the sweet taste of chocolate coating my tongue.

  “Dessert before dinner?” she asked.

  “Chocolate trumps everything else.”

  She smiled. “Are you liking it here at Crestwood?”

  “So far.”

  “And how about Chantel?” she asked with her mouth full. “How are you two getting along?”

  “Honestly, I barely see her. Our schedules are completely opposite, and then she has Chase.”

  Valerie rolled her eyes.

  “Uh, oh. What’s that mean?”

  She shook her head, her eyes growing distant. “I don’t know why she hasn’t moved on yet. He doesn’t want her.”

  “He was over yesterday,” I countered.

  She shrugged. “He gets lonely. He dials her up.”

  “What’s his story? Is he a senior too?”

  “Yeah.” She took another bite of her sandwich and spoke with a mouthful again. “He transferred second semester last year from Washington and was already a brother at their chapter of Kappa Sigma. Though, I always get the impression he doesn’t really enjoy being in the frat. But then again, look at me. Sorority sister for life.”

  “Why did you join? You seem…different from the others.”

  “My mom was a sister.” Disappointment swept across her features. “So, I’m a legacy. It was expected.”

  I ate more of my cake.

  “Are you planning to rush?”

  I shook my head. “Sororities aren’t really my thing—no offense.”

  She laughed. “None taken.”


  “And, I can’t really see myself agreeing to do all those ridiculous pledge things you’ve gotta do just to get in.”

  A mixture of regret and shame flashed across her eyes.

  Shit. Why was I always saying the wrong thing? “So, I’ve told you about me. Tell me about you.”

  Valerie’s face lit up. “Me?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. Where are you from? What do you like to do?”

  She spoke for the next fifteen minutes, barely coming up for air. It was as if no one had ever asked her about herself. And that light I thought was missing from her eyes the other night, shined brightly for the remainder of our dinner. We laughed—almost cried—as she told stories about all the beauty pageants her mom entered her in growing up and how she tried sabotaging every last one because she hated them so much. Valerie seemed like someone who’d been forced into situations she didn’t want to be in. But the longer we spoke, the more I saw she was working on shedding that habit. And with me by her side, I had a feeling I’d get to know, and grow to really love, the real Valerie.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I arrived early to History through Film the next morning, taking my seat in the back of the small classroom. Students filled the room over the next five minutes. Chase wasn’t one of them.

  I slipped my laptop out as Professor Irons set up a movie clip. He asked us to look for the various instances where art imitated life.

  I pulled up a word doc on my computer and began recording my findings as the clip played.

  The classroom door creaked open a few minutes into the clip. My focus remained on my computer screen as Chase slipped into the seat beside me. I did my best to ignore him, my eyes jumping between the movie clip and my computer screen.

  “What are we doing?” Chase whispered to me.

  I glanced over with a raised brow, then turned back to the movie.

  “You’re not gonna tell me?”

  I typed the words the actor uttered on my computer.

  Chase leaned over to see my computer screen. “What does that mean?”

  I turned my computer away from his prying eyes.