“Of course. I would have paid more if it meant getting Cassie to go on another date with me.” He grins down at her and she flushes, just slightly, like she did the day I first met her.
“Another? I didn’t know you two had already been on one,” Skyler says, her arms still around my waist.
“We just went to dinner.”
“She’s playing hard to get,” Grayson argues, but they’re both smiling.
I’m highly annoyed.
“Well I guess she can’t say no to a five-hundred dollar proposition,” Clinton says, leaning forward to shake Grayson’s hand. “I’m Bear.”
“Nice to meet you, man.”
“Oh! Yeah, this is my Big, Skyler, and Adam and Jeremy. They’re in Alpha Sigma.”
Grayson shakes Jeremy’s hand first and mine last. His grip is strong, smile still in place.
“Hey, I know you. You’re the one who threw that kick ass concert last semester, right?” he asks as we drop hands.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Bro! That was so sick. Three of my favorite bands in the area were there. Are you doing another one next fall?”
“If I have anything to do with it, yeah.” Cassie is smiling up at him as we talk a little more about the concert. He really knows his shit about local music, and before I can stop him, Jeremy is asking if he’ll help scout talent next semester. The guy is nice, funny, not even a little douche-like.
I hate him.
My phone buzzes, and for the first time ever, I’m actually relieved to see a text from Clay demanding I get my ass to the house.
“Shit,” I murmur. Skyler leans over to look at the text. “Clay just called an emergency meeting.”
“Think it’s about the retreat?” Jeremy asks.
“Not sure, but we should probably both go.” I turn to Skyler, apologies at the ready.
“Don’t,” she says before I have the chance, holding up her hand. “It’s completely fine. I’m exhausted anyway and need to call my parents about what happened tonight. I’ll text you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay.” I smile and she lifts on her toes to give me a kiss. She breaks away too soon for me, so I pull her back, running my hand up her arm to grip the back of her neck, holding her to me. She sighs a little, as if my kiss reassured her of something I didn’t even know she was questioning.
“Have fun tonight.”
“You too,” she breathes when I break the kiss. “See you guys later. Nice to meet you, Grayson.” I nod my head as he holds his whiskey up in a cheers to me.
My eyes flick to Cassie’s, but just for a moment, not even long enough to read what lies behind them before I turn and make my way through the crowd with Jeremy.
THERE ARE TIMES WHEN OUR BODIES warn us against the actions we choose. They make us sweat, turn our stomachs, cloud our vision, cause us to tremble. My body is sending me all the warning signs now as I clutch the donations raised Saturday night at the auction close to my chest. But I’m not walking up to the bank.
I’m walking into Xavier’s office.
I know it’s wrong, I’m ashamed that I’m doing it, but I don’t have a choice. We raised just over five grand, just enough to buy me the time to Spring Break, just enough to move me closer to my freedom. It’s selfish, it’s against every value my sorority stands for, it’s against everything that I am. But I know this isn’t just some game I can quit and walk away from unscarred. My life is on the line.
Bo’s life is on the line.
And if I want to make it out of this alive, I’m going to have to do some things I’m not proud of.
I already have.
Swallowing, I nod slightly at the body guard outside of Xavier’s office as he lets me in the door. Xavier is seated at his desk, head down, looking through a folder with pictures of other men and documents I’m more than sure I don’t want to know the details of.
“Have a seat, Ashlei. Just one moment.”
I tuck my hair behind my ears, the ends of it sticking to my neck as I sit on the edge of the chair. Xavier shifts through a few more pages before closing the file and leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
“I hope you’re not here to beg for more time.”
“I’m not,” I say, shoving the large envelope toward him. He takes it hesitantly, his eyes on mine, before opening it and running his fingers over the money. “There’s just over five-thousand in there.”
He smiles, one that makes me even more uncomfortable than I was. “Does this mean you’re taking me up on my offer?”
“I don’t really have a choice,” I squeak, my throat dry.
Xavier claps his hands together and I jump. “Beautiful! I love when it all comes together like this, kiddo.” He pauses, noting my frown. “It’ll be easy, I promise. You’ll be on Spring Break. Everyone is looking for something.”
I nod. “I just want it to be over.”
He clears his throat, and I wonder if even he is uncomfortable at the position he’s put me in. Then I think of how he’s treated me in the past, how he’s treated Kya, Hayden. There’s no way this man can have a conscious.
But really, am I so different? Here I am agreeing to sell hard drugs to other students on campus. I could be starting an addiction. I could be ending a life.
“I’ll call you when everything is ready for you to pick up,” he says finally, dismissing me.
“Um, wait.” I stand, wiping my palms on my shorts. “I, uh, I kind of need your help.” Xavier cocks a brow and I close my eyes, ashamed of what I’m about to ask. I can’t let anyone in Kappa Kappa Beta find out about this, which means I need an insurance policy.
“I have to convince my sisters I was mugged, that the money was stolen.” I open my eyes again, hoping he’ll understand without me having to explain more.
“What are you asking me, Ashlei?”
I feel it inside, a crack only I can hear as a piece of me breaks. “I need you to hit me.”
I AM EMPTY.
I thought I knew what it felt like — emptiness.
The summer before my senior year of high school, I described myself as empty. I was searching for purpose, for something to make me feel like living, and luckily I found it in a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy in the wheat fields of Kansas. Kip Jackson helped me find myself, and though we don’t talk anymore, I still attribute a lot of who I am today to who he helped me become that summer.
But this emptiness I feel now, my hands wrapped hard around the steering wheel of Jess’ BMW, white knuckles, dry eyes, tight skin, dry mouth — I’ve never felt anything like this before. My phone is ringing, but I can barely hear it. It’s probably Landon. He’s called twice today, but I’m not ready to answer. Hell, I can’t even answer to myself right now.
Emptiness.
It’s such a strange word.
A cup, half-empty or half-full?
I was brought up in a large, white house with light blue shutters. I went to church every Wednesday and twice on Sunday. My parents consistently donate to the Republican party, at all levels of government, and my political views are about as far right as you can go.
And yet here I am.
I wish I could cry. I wish I could feel the guilt, the shame, the pain I should feel at this moment in time. I’m angry that I’m numb, that I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the word, around the act of horror I just committed.
Abortion.
Another strange word.
My right hand slides down the side of the steering wheel, dropping to my stomach, and I grip the soft cotton fabric of my t-shirt covering it. It’s so flat, so hollow.
Empty.
Part of me wishes someone was here with me, but the larger part of me is thankful I didn’t break down enough to ask anyone. I can barely face the facts of what I did, I’m almost sure I wouldn’t be able to take the judgement from an outside party. No one knows what this feels like until they’re here.
Erin Xander: College junior, pre-law, future president of her sorority, knocked
up by the lovable jock in the fraternity house down the street.
That is not my story to tell.
Maybe, if I were stronger, if I were less selfish, we could have made it work. Maybe I could have given up my presidency to have the baby, put it up for adoption, still graduated and become a lawyer like I’ve always dreamed. Maybe Clinton would have wanted to keep it.
As it stands, Clinton will never know.
No one will ever know.
I sniff, but for no reason, because I’m not crying. I didn’t cry when I read the all lowercase letters that spelled out pregnant on that little plastic tube in my bathroom. I didn’t cry when I lied to Jess, or when I made the appointment. I didn’t cry when I walked past the small group holding hand-painted signs outside of the clinic — Choose Life. And I know I’ll never cry, because if ever there was a time, it would have been when they vacuumed my son or daughter out of my stomach like it was a mess made by an inconsiderate neighbor.
I am twenty-years-old, and yet I am a mother, to a baby I’ll never have the fortune of meeting.
Except I am not a mother.
I am selfish.
I am a hypocrite.
I am empty.
VALENTINE’S DAY HAS NEVER BEEN A SPECIAL HOLIDAY for me. In fact, the only true valentine I ever had was in second grade when Jordan Lewis bought me a stuffed white dog and small, heart-shaped box of chocolate. He ate half of the chocolates and pushed me off the merry-go-round later that afternoon.
Asshole.
After that, I either didn’t have a boyfriend during Valentine’s Day or the boyfriend I had didn’t celebrate it. By the time I turned sixteen, I stopped caring, and that was a relief for the two boyfriends I had in high school. Neither of them had to worry about the holiday because it meant absolutely nothing to me.
But tonight, I’m wrapped in a massive pile of blankets and sheets with Bo tucked under my arm, her small hand resting on my hip, her fingers just barely under the hem of my t-shirt. It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m determined to make it one we’ll both remember.
It’s barely over fifty degrees tonight, one of the last cold nights we’ll have in South Florida for quite a while. It’s mid-February now, which means sunshine and seventies are right around the corner. Spring Break is just a few weeks away, and while everyone else is focused on their diets, I’m focused on this moment — right here — lying under the stars with the only girl I’ve ever truly let myself be with.
It’s not that I never found a girl attractive before Bo. I’ve known for quite some time that I’m bisexual. Still, I never let myself be with them. A kiss here and there, maybe some nights spent together where I wondered if they felt the same, but that’s where it all ended. Bo is my first girlfriend, which is part of the reason I want tonight to be so special.
“This is nice,” Bo whispers, snuggling in closer. I run my fingers through her short, silky locks and sigh in agreement. “How did you even think of this?”
I shrug. “I wanted to do something no one had ever done for you before.”
“You succeeded,” Bo says with a giggle.
Palm South University is undergoing a lot of construction this semester, and I heard they were tearing down this parking garage to make room for a new theatre. They stopped letting students park here a few weeks ago and construction is set to pick up in March. I wanted to be alone with Bo, somewhere where we could be ourselves without anyone watching. So, I bought an air mattress, stuffed two duffle bags full of sheets, blankets, and pillows, and set up our own private bedroom under the stars. I asked Bo to bring a few candles and two bottles of wine, and now here we are.
Paradise.
Leaning up on her elbow, Bo frowns down at me, the soft flicker of the candles illuminating her face just slightly. “Are you okay?”
Her hand leaves my hip and finds the side of my face as she runs her thumb across my cheek bone. I flinch a little, the bruise still tender, but force a smile. “I’m fine.”
“I can’t believe some asshole mugged you. On campus, nonetheless.” She shivers. “Gives me the creeps.”
“Me too. But I’m okay, and I just want to move on.”
She nods, but her eyes are focused hard on mine. Bo knows about the trouble I got into last semester with Hayden and the drugs, but I never told her what Kya said when she came by the sorority house that last day of fall semester. How could I? Bo is the most special person in my life right now. I couldn’t risk losing her because of a stupid decision I made.
I’m digging my way out of this hole on my own, and once I’m out, I’ll stand in the sunshine with Bo.
I told Erin and the rest of my sorority that I was mugged on my way to the bank with our philanthropy money. Xavier came through with what I asked him to do, and with a smile on his face. He enjoyed it, I could tell.
“Do the campus police have any leads yet?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. But they’ll find who did it. I’m not worried.”
At least that’s not a lie. The PSU police are the last item on my list of Shit to Worry About.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Bo laces her fingers in mine, pulling my hand to her lips for a soft kiss. It’s such an innocent touch, but my heart instantly accelerates.
“I know.”
Bo seems so perfect on the outside — beautiful complexion, hair, body. She puts everyone else before herself. But over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten to know Bo on a deeper level. She opened up to me about her parents, the pressure they put on her to excel in life, the absolute horror she experiences at just the thought of telling them she’s gay.
That I can relate to.
I’ve grown into my skin enough to know who I am. I like boys, but I also like girls. I just love to love, I guess. Regardless, my parents wouldn’t understand — just like Bo’s wouldn’t. I’ve always thought that, maybe, they never really needed to know. After all, there’s a chance I may end up marrying a guy, right? Still, I can’t say I’ve never thought about telling them just to see their reaction. I wonder if I’d have their attention then?
But Bo doesn’t have that same thought. She can’t help who she loves, and she doesn’t want who her parents think she should — who the bible says she should.
It’s sad, and even though acceptance is spreading faster now than it ever did when my parents were my age, there are still so many who don’t understand.
Our parents are at the top of that list.
“What are you thinking about?” Bo asks, sitting and pulling one of the blankets up with her to cover her shoulders. The candlelight is reflected onto the front of her face while the moon and stars shine bright behind her. It’s absolutely stunning.
“Honestly?”
She nods.
I pause, leaning up to sit with her and nervously tucking my hair behind my ear. “I’m kind of scared.”
Bo’s face falls. “Of what?”
“Of what I want to do right now.”
She swallows, pulling the blanket tighter around her petite frame. “What do you want to do?”
If I thought my heart was beating fast before, it’s racing now — galloping — threatening to break my ribcage. “Kiss you.”
She relaxes, just marginally. “You’ve kissed me before, silly.” Bo leans forward, like she expects me to kiss her the way I always do, but I don’t budge.
“That’s not what I mean.”
She halts, her almond eyes snapping to mine. Recognition sets in and she exhales slowly, her breath just barely visible in the cool air of the night. With confidence, she drops the blanket from her shoulders as I open mine to her, instead. She crawls under, straddling me, her breath coming harder.
“Where do you want to kiss me?”
My hands shake as I frame her delicate neck in my hands, pulling her closer, our lips touching as I whisper.
“Everywhere.”
Bo closes the distance, kissing me hard as we both let go of the breaths we were holding. Her hands find my h
air and I trail mine down to her hips, holding her tight as I buck against her. She gasps, and the sound does something to me that I’ve never experienced before. Every nerve feels tight, but awake — alive.
It’s suddenly no longer cold — not even close. It’s scorching, too hot for blankets, too hot to touch, but we refuse to stop. Bo moves her hands to my waist, pushing my shirt up slowly, watching it roll over my curves before finally stripping it off over my head and letting it fall on the concrete. I pull her back into me, kissing her hard, my hands greedy as they roam her body for the first time. When I snake my right hand between her thighs, she tenses, moaning, grinding against the contact.
I’m breathing so hard yet I feel like I haven’t inhaled once. Everything in my life is so wrong, but I only feel right in this moment. I’m scared, excited, unsure — and so fucking turned on.
Bo presses her forehead to mine, her breath labored as I find my way beneath the fabric of her yoga pants. When I find there’s not another layer separating me from her, I swallow, my fingers circling her clit, my adrenaline pumping. She moans, her head falling, back arching, hips rolling. She bites her lip as her heavy eyes pin my mouth. It’s like she can’t wait another moment to taste me, like her life depends on our next kiss, and when she finally presses her mouth to mine I wonder if maybe it’s true.
“Lay down,” she whispers and I obey. Bo winds her hips to the soft music coming from my phone as she peels my sweatpants off, lining her face up with the hem, following the fabric from my hips all the way down to my toes. I can’t stop shaking, even though I’m far from cold now. I will my heart to slow down but it won’t listen. I am out of control — blissfully unsteady and wild.
When Bo kisses her way back up my legs, her lips trailing a fire from my ankles to my inner thighs, my shaking becomes visible. Her eyes find mine just as she places one, feather-light kiss over my lace panties.
“Lei?”
“Hmm?” I ask, sedated, squirming beneath her.
“Is this your first time?”
My eyes widen. “No.”
She smiles, crawling up my body and settling between my legs. Using her knees to spread me open to her, she slides one hand beneath the hem of my panties and I inhale stiffly.
Palm South University: Season 2, Episode 2 (Palm South University #2) Page 4
