My head hung in shame as I clomped down the steps to Mr. Grant’s desk, grateful no one had stuck around to witness this moment. I was going to be expelled for sure, and then what would I do? Go back to Ms. Janet? I shuddered at the thought.
Ms. Janet, my foster mother of six years, was unorthodox to say the least, and the last thing I wanted to do was move back in with her. I was a terrible son to think such unkind thoughts; she was, for all intents and purposes, my mother. The only mother I ever had. She put up with me longer than any other foster family had, and I should be more than grateful. Yet the mere idea of returning to her home left me trembling in a cold sweat.
“Let’s take this to my office.” Mr. Grant’s mustache twitched as he rose from his desk, and I followed him meekly, banishing the dark thoughts. This was no time to dwell on my failings as a son. I needed to grovel. Thankfully, I had lots of practice to call upon due to Ms. Janet and her numerous strict rules.
After apologizing profusely, I left Mr. Grant’s office ten minutes later with a rescheduled slot for my presentation, a six-hundred-word disciplinary essay, and his thin trust in me that I hadn’t defiled his classroom on purpose. I fled the building, holding back my barrage of tears by sheer power of will as I raced across campus to my dorm. I refused to cry out in the open.
Caught inside my tormented head, I didn’t notice the telltale noises coming from my dorm room as I slid my key home. I opened the door only to recoil at the image of my roommate sitting at the edge of his bed with a girl’s head in his naked lap. Seriously?
Even though this was college and I had tried to mentally brace myself for being confronted with sexual promiscuity, there could be no preparation for this.
“Riley!” Brian’s fingers tangled in the girl’s blonde hair as he smothered her face in his groin. “Get out!”
I retreated, slamming the door shut and backing away until my spine cracked against the opposite wall. Slumping to the ground, I hugged my backpack to my chest and buried my face in the canvas material. What the heck was going on today?
Ignoring the unpleasant grunts originating from my room, I sat in the hallway and did homework. Almost half an hour later, a shadow crawled over my lap, accompanied by a sweet, fruity scent. The familiar perfume warmed my chest, and I raised my head with a shy smile as I met a pair of bluish-gray eyes.
“Hey, Riley, what are you doing in the hallway?” Bethany stood over me with hands on her curvy hips and a warm smile on her lips. Her flaxen hair tumbled around her shoulders in easy waves as she towered over me.
Her light eyebrows arched, reminding me I had yet to answer her, and I blushed as I pointed at the door to my room where Brian currently groaned like a dying walrus. Mortified, I dropped my hand and fiddled with my notebook.
“Did he seriously kick you out again?” Disgust colored her face as I nodded. “Ugh, ew. Come on, you’re studying in my room.”
As one of my floor’s Resident Assistants, Bethany was a junior and lived at the end of the hall with the second R.A., Sharon. I met her at the beginning of the year when she addressed the host of freshman moving in, but our friendship didn’t blossom until a few weeks later.
I had run out of cleaning supplies since Brian had forgotten to replenish our stash, and it was his turn—which meant my turn—to clean the boy’s bathroom on our floor. Hoping to borrow toilet bowl cleaner, I’d knocked on her door and stammered my way through the request. She’d happily obliged and even helped me clean when she discovered I was covering for my roommate.
Ever the social outcast, I was skittish. But she determinedly weaseled her way past my awkward insecurities and we became fast friends. To be honest, she was my only friend, but since I had spent most of my life without any friends—ignoring those stemming from my imagination, of course—it was an upgrade.
“Seriously, Sharon is gone until after dinner, and I’ll be studying, too.” She offered me a hand, her painted nails shiny under the fluorescent lights.
“I don’t want to be a bother—”
“It’s no bother.”
Her sincerity broke through my polite reservations, and I hurriedly gathered my belongings before accepting her outstretched hand. She pulled me to my feet, and I hooked my bag over my shoulder as Brian released an obnoxiously moaned curse. Grimacing, we shared a look of abhorrence before she squeezed my hand and led me down the hall to her dorm room.
Unbeknownst to her, my focus zeroed in on our clasped hands, and my face erupted with embarrassment. And shame. If Ms. Janet ever found out I’d let a girl hold my hand, I would be in so much trouble, even if the touch was nothing but platonic.
Of course, it wasn’t personal. Bethany was pretty, maybe even beautiful, but I had never viewed her as anything more than a friend. In the back of my mind, I figured I would eventually find a girl I liked romantically, but so far, it hadn’t happened. Whether it stemmed from my crippling social anxiety, my general wariness over such notions, or my complete lack of interest in anyone, I didn’t know.
Plus, Bethany had a boyfriend. He was tall, athletic, and muscular—the exact opposite of me. And I was much too shy to even contemplate looking at her with that type of affection. The thought made my skin itch.
After waiting the appropriate time so as not to offend, I pulled my hand free of her loose grasp, eyes downcast in case she sent me a weird look. Normal people didn’t mind casual touching. Normal people enjoyed hugs and hand-holding. Normal people didn’t get panic attacks at the thought of entering a girl’s bedroom.
Try as I might, I was far from normal.
Hesitating on the threshold of Bethany’s room, I chewed the inside of my cheek as my heart rate kicked up two notches. My sweaty palms gripped the straps of my backpack as I contemplated making a run for it before it was too late. Then I remembered Brian’s gross grunting, and I shuddered.
“Riley?” Bethany stood in her room, hands clasped in front of her. She smiled gently, waiting patiently as if she knew exactly how difficult this was. Maybe she did. It wouldn’t surprise me.
She was the most thoughtful person I had ever met. She never moved too quickly to touch me. In the moments I couldn’t handle physical proximity, she would pull away with kind understanding. I never read disappointment or judgment on her face when I acted outside the norm of acceptable interaction.
Maybe it was her psychology major or an innate knowledge of how to interact with people, but she always knew how to act with me, even when I had no words to explain my shortcomings. I was lucky she was my first friend. I had no idea how to socialize, yet somehow, she put up with me.
My anxiety lessened as she waited for me to make my decision. After reminding myself it was okay to have friends and be their rooms, I stepped over the threshold. I had never been in a girl’s room before; even when I asked Bethany for cleaning supplies, I waited in the hall. Ms. Janet would skin me alive if she knew where I was.
“You can use the beanbag chair, if you want. I’ll be here.” Bethany pointed first to a large pink beanbag, then to the lower bunk. “There’s pop in the mini fridge if you’re thirsty.”
I chuckled at her use of the word pop, her Midwest upbringing shining through. “It’s fine. I don’t drink soda.” It was one of the many things Ms. Janet forbade me from consuming.
“You want your teeth rotting out of your head, Riley?” she’d say, wagging her finger in my face.
“You don’t like pop?” Bethany plopped onto her pink comforter and retrieved a textbook from her pillow. “I’m so jealous. I could probably lose five pounds if I stopped drinking it.”
I didn’t correct her assumption; it was easier than explaining Ms. Janet’s rules. “Why would you want to lose five pounds?” I asked as I sunk into the beanbag.
Bethany simpered. “Oh, Riley, you’re so sweet.”
Without explaining further, she lay on her stomach, her socked feet on her pillow, and proceeded to read where she’d left off in her textbook. Per usual, I was left confused by our interac
tion. How was my honest curiosity sweet? I really was puzzled over why she’d want to lose weight. I didn’t think she needed to change a thing. She was the prettiest girl I knew.
We fell into a comfortable silence as I worked on my homework and she studied. The door to her dorm remained open which helped me relax, and I soon forgot about my misgivings on entering a girl’s bedroom.
Time flew by, and before I knew it, Bethany was rising from her bed and tucking her phone into her back pocket. “We’re gonna be late for dinner,” she said, jabbing her thumb toward the door. “Coming?”
Oh, right. We ate dinner together on Mondays and Thursdays. I enjoyed Monday dinners better than Thursday dinners. Too bad today was Thursday.
“Right, of course.” I tucked my books back into my rucksack. “I’m coming.”
We walked down the hall, our elbows brushing every few steps, and I shifted to add an extra inch between us. I caught the side-glance she sent me, but she didn’t comment.
“I need to pee real quick.” She winked when she veered toward the girl’s toilet. “Wait for me?”
Nodding, I gestured to my dorm room. “I’ll just drop my bag off.”
“Okay.”
With a deep breath to boost my bravery, I approached my room and listened for the icky sounds of coitus. The room was, thankfully, quiet. I knocked just to be sure before using my key to unlock the door.
The moment I entered the room, my nose wrinkled at the musty smell of sweat and day-old Chinese food Brian forgot to throw away. The combination was revolting, but I swallowed my complaints. I didn’t want to cause waves or give my roommate another reason to dislike me. If he had switched our USB drives unprovoked, then I feared what he would do if I actually angered him.
I grabbed a garbage bag from under my bed and tossed the Chinese food, old tissues, and various other candy wrappers and trash littering Brian’s side of the room. At his bedside, I recoiled when I spotted a used condom sitting on the side table between our single beds—the side table we shared!
Gagging, I snatched several tissues from my box of Kleenex and threw the pile over the condom so I wouldn’t see it. Once my dry heaves ceased, I gingerly rolled the tissues into a ball with the condom nestled inside and added it to the garbage bag.
There. Done.
After tucking my bookbag under my bed, I grabbed the full garbage bag and tied it closed. I would pass the trash containers on the way to the mess hall, so taking the bag with me would eliminate an extra trip later.
When I verified the room was tidy, I hoisted the bag over my shoulder and stepped toward the door. It opened inward, almost smashing me in the face, and I lost my footing as I dodged the swinging wood. Crashing to the floor, I winced at the pain pulsing in my tailbone as Brian swept into the room in nothing but a towel secured at his hips.
“The fuck are you doing on the floor, Queerbie?” Reddish-brown hair stuck to his forehead, wet from his shower, and I withered under the harsh scrutiny in his blue eyes. “Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you right now?”
I crawled to my feet as he waved me away so he could access the tiny closet he used for his clothes. At the beginning of the semester, he claimed he had more clothes and needed the closet. My own clothing lay in plastic containers under my bed.
“I didn’t know you had company.” I kept my voice and gaze low, hoping meekness would ease his frustration.
“She almost stopped! Do you have any idea how annoying an interrupted blowjob is?” He eyed me with disdain. “Oh wait, you wouldn’t, would you?”
There were many things Brian disapproved of when it came to me; my virginity ranked somewhere between my frequent nightmares and his assumption I was homosexual.
“You can’t just come bursting in whenever you feel like it,” Brian continued, snatching clothes from the closet and tossing them on his messy bed.
“B-but this is my room, too.”
He ignored my sputters. “Just ’cause you can’t get any action doesn’t mean you’re allowed to sneak peeks at my dick.” I physically stepped back in horror at his accusation. “I put up with a lot of your shit, Queerball, but I won’t be nice next time.”
If I was being honest, I didn’t think he was being nice this time. “I’m sorry, Brian. I didn’t—”
“Yeah, yeah whatever. Just wash my bedding this weekend, all right?” He loomed over me, hands on his hips. I leaned away, avoiding looking directly at his bare skin as I nodded. “Good. Now get the hell out. There’s no way I’m dropping this towel in front of your voyeur ass.”
Tears stung my eyes as I rushed to the door, garbage bag in hand. I paused at the doorstep and shoved my hand into my pocket. “I think our flash drives got switched.” I held out the USB stick, and a gleeful smirk stretched his lips.
“Oops. Wonder how that happened?” He snatched the USB out of my hand before retrieving mine from the drawer at his desk and tossing it to me. He didn’t even try to hide his giddiness. What a jerk!
“Hey, Riley?” Bethany peered around the doorframe. “You ready to go?”
“Yes,” I squeaked, swallowing the lump in my throat, and she shot Brian a guarded stare as he sauntered toward us, still wearing his towel.
A flirty grin tipped his lips as he dragged his gaze down her body. “Bethany. Hey, girl. How you doing?”
“Ha, please.” She patted my shoulder, adding pressure to get me moving, and I complied all too willingly.
“Oh, come on! How come you’re so buddy-buddy with Queerbie here but not me?”
Bethany wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders and steered us toward the stairwell, glaring scathingly behind us. “The fact you call him Queerbie should answer that question for you. Asshole.”
The last part was muttered under her breath as we started down the stairs, and I smiled to myself at the show of solidarity her insult held. It was far from polite, but I appreciated her disapproval. It made me feel less guilty about my own misgivings when it came to my roommate.
“I don’t know how you put up with him, Riley.” Bethany opened the front door as I carried the garbage bag with two hands. “Do you need me to write up a report?”
I balked, shaking my head resolutely. “No, please don’t. It’s no problem. He just likes to joke around.”
Crossing her arms over her ample chest, she glared at the bottom step leading to our dorm building. “Joking is one thing, but if he’s treating you badly or making you feel unsafe—”
“It’s fine.” I patted her arm awkwardly, doing my best to appear sincere. “I promise. If things get bad, I’ll tell you.”
“You better.” She leveled me with a stern stare, and I dipped my head submissively.
She meant well, I knew that. But reporting him for rude behavior wouldn’t solve anything. I would sound ungrateful, come across as a whiner or, worse, a tattle-tale. In the end, it would just cause waves, and if there was one thing I learned in my lifetime in the foster system, it was to never cause waves. The last time I did, I ended up at the institute, and I would rather die than go back there.
No, I would make this work. One way or another, I would survive freshman year. I would prove to Ms. Janet that I hadn’t made the biggest mistake of my life by moving away to attend a secular college. And I would prove to myself that, for once, I could accomplish my goals without ruining everything! I finally had the chance to experience what every young adult wanted—a normal, independent life.
I didn’t think it was too much to ask for.
Chapter Two
The crisp autumn air carried a hinted promise of rain, though the sky was clear. A light breeze tickled my skin, and I pulled my sweatshirt tighter across my chest. When the sun shone, the October air was easy to dismiss, but the chill invaded the moment the sun made its descent. As dusk settled over the college campus, I shivered.
After dumping the trash into one of the large garbage canisters off the side of our dorm building, Bethany and I made our way toward the student center. S
lowly, allowing time for me to stop her, she slipped her arm into mine until we linked at the elbows. My cheeks warmed as she gauged my reaction, and when I smiled shyly back at her, she beamed.
The walk was silent, neither of us feeling the need to fill the space between us with idle chit-chat. It was easy to relax around Bethany, and I leaned into her taller body to absorb her warmth as a harsher gust of wind whipped at my sweatshirt. Being short and skinny, I was cold more often than not, but she didn’t mind my proximity.
Approaching the student center, the noise level rose, as did the artificial lighting. It was fortunate because, without the lampposts lining the sidewalk, I would have missed the tall figure leaning against a tree several yards away. Once my eyes found him though, it was impossible not to notice him. His white-washed jeans and light hoodie stood out like a beacon in stark contrast to the twilight around us.
As the cool breeze rustled through the leaves overhead, it teased the long strands of his straight, pearly white hair. The ends played along his shoulders, twirling in an elegant dance around his smooth, alabaster cheeks. He wiped an apple on his sleeve before bringing it to his full pink lips and sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.
There was something terrifyingly familiar about him, yet I was sure I had never seen him before. And I would have remembered seeing him. He was picturesque, like a model in a magazine with his soft sloping jawline, straight nose, and high cheekbones.
Pretty, my brain supplied.
Wait a minute. Pretty? Boys weren’t pretty.
“Riley?” Bethany called my name, and as if the boy was named Riley, too, he lifted his head in response to her call. Our eyes met.
His neutral expression spoke of placid waters, like an undisturbed lake, but the easy calm quickly turned to confusion as his light brows drew down. As if he expected there to be someone else behind him I was staring at, he glanced over his shoulder to search the shadows. My mouth twitched with the desire to smile at his modest perplexity. He was alone in the courtyard, but even if there’d been a whole crowd, I didn’t think anyone could distract me from him. He was entirely… other. I couldn’t break away, even as he reinstated eye contact, lips pursed.
Revelations: Fire & Brimstone Scroll 1 Page 2
