The College Life

by Mercy Amare

I reach over and grab his hand. I want to comfort him, because I know he’s freaked out. I’m freaked out too. I can’t believe this is happening again.

  “I’m sure,” I tell him softly. “I still want to go to school here. If he knew about this, he’d pull me out in a heartbeat.”

  “Maybe that’s not a bad idea,” Gabe says.

  “I have to go to college. I can’t drop out because somebody sent me mean notes,” I say. “It doesn’t mean that it’s happening again. Not really. We don’t know what it means. The threats made so far have been pretty tame compared to last year. If this was Mike Newman, that blood would’ve been real.”

  I feel Ty’s hand flinch.

  Poor Ty. His dad is such a psycho. I’m sure that this is just as hard on him as it is on me.

  “She’s right,” Ty says. “We don’t know that this person is a killer, yet. For all we know, they’re just trying to scare Kihanna. Maybe they’re thinking she will drop out of school or run. Maybe that’s what they want.”

  “Why would somebody want me to drop out of school? How could that possibly make them feel better?” I ask.

  “Maybe they go to the same school as us,” Gabe says.

  “Nobody from our school goes to Berkeley. We’re the only three,” Ty says. “Not that Berkeley isn’t a good school, but a lot of kids went to ivy leagues. It’s what is expected of Bayside Academy students.”

  “Then why?” I ask.

  “Am I supposed to know what goes through the mind of a psycho?” he asks. “Maybe they just don’t want to be in the same state as you. Or maybe they want you to fail out of college. Obviously, something that happened last year affected them in a big way.”

  “Like it didn’t affect me?” I ask. “I was the one being stalked.”

  “But this person is probably thinking that if you had never come to Cali in the first place, then whatever happened—wouldn’t have,” Ty says.

  “I feel guilty about everything that happened,” I say. “I know that it’s not my fault, but I can’t help but feel responsible. If only I had tried to stay in St. Louis longer. Or if my mom hadn’t gotten sick. There had to have been some way to avoid all this.”

  “You can’t think like that,” Ty says. “If you had never come here, we never would’ve met. But it’s not just about us. You belong here. With your dad and the rest of your family. With me. Even if your mom hadn’t been sick, somehow you would’ve found your way here. It was fate.”

  “I’m not saying that I’m not glad I’m here. I am glad. Ty, you’re probably the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I could never regret meeting you,” I clarify. “But I’m trying to see it from their perspective. And I can. I get it.”

  “There is nothing to get,” Gabe says, reminding me he’s in the backseat. “Please, can you guys keep the mushy crap to a minimum?”

  “It sucks, doesn’t it?” Ty asks. “To be in love with a girl who doesn’t feel the same.”

  I clear my throat. “Maybe in the car with me isn’t the best time to have this conversation. You guys are roommates. Can’t you discuss this later?”

  “We don’t talk,” Gabe says. “Because, I don’t have anything to say to Ty. He stole my girl.”

  “He didn’t steal me,” I say. “I just wanted my boyfriend to have sex with me and not be jealous of every guy that talked to me at a party. I’m the one who went to Ty and asked him to... well... you know...”

  Gabe snorts. “This is so wrong.”

  “It’s awkward, but you are the one who brought it up.”

  I keep my eyes forward, not daring to meet his in the rearview mirror. How did I allow myself to get into this situation? I should have insisted that Gabe drive himself home. I should not be in the car with two of my ex-boyfriends right now.

  “I’m more than willing to share,” Gabe says. “Ty and I have done it before.”

  “I’m not willing,” Ty says.

  “Me, either,” I agree. “Gabe, I chose Ty. And you have to respect that or you have to find another ride back to school.”

  Silence falls over the car.

  Gabe can either ride with me and Ty, or with his mom. I’m thinking he’d much rather ride with us. Not that I can blame him. That woman is so nosey.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I hurt you,” I tell him.

  “Whatever. I’m over it.”

  Ty squeezes my hand. I glance over at him and he grins.

  He is not the same guy he was last year. He’s so much better.

  7 p.m.

  Another family dinner.

  I convince Dad to let us have dinner at home.

  And for us not to invite the Johnson family.

  Maybe I’m a bitch for not wanting Gabe to come over, but I can’t help it. I desperately need a break, after that long car ride. We ended up stuck in afternoon traffic and I couldn’t handle any more of his brooding.

  Tonight, we are eating dinner at the dining table, per Veronica’s request, but we are all casually dressed. I have on a pair of jeans and a Berkeley hoodie. I’m sure Veronica hates seeing me dressed like this at the dinner table. At least Toby and Ty are dressed casually too.

  “I am so excited for tomorrow night,” Veronica says. “Maybe after dinner you can try on the dress I got you. It’s just lovely. All the boys are going to love it.”

  Toby snickers and I elbow him.

  “So, sis,” he says, “are you going to save a dance for me?”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Kihanna will be much too busy to dance with you,” Veronica answers him. “There are going to be a lot of eligible men here. And every one of them are here for you.” She sighs dreamily. “I wish I’d had the opportunity to have a coming out party when I was your age.”

  “I’m not really that excited,” I say. “I’ve decided to be single for a while, so I feel bad wasting all these guys’ time.”

  “It’s not wasted. You’re making connections. Friendships,” she says. “Just because you’re not ready for a commitment now doesn’t mean you won’t be in the future.”

  “What exactly are you interested in?” Toby asks in a suggestive voice.

  I elbow him again, this time a little harder.

  He grunts. “Ow.”

  “I’m interested in making friends. Going to parties. Hanging out,” I say. “And of course, making good grades. It’s my freshman year. I want to enjoy it without having to worry about a relationship.”

  “That’s very mature of you,” Dad says. “I always thought a woman should be at least twenty five before she dates.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.”

  Veronica laughs too. “Everybody knows that the respectable dating age is sixteen, Mark.”

  “Poor Kailee,” Ty whispers in my ear.

  I nod my head in agreement.

  I’m sure my dad dreads her teenage years. Especially considering how last year went for me. But that was an extreme case. I hope Kailee doesn’t have a stalker, like I did. I’m sure she won’t.

  Dad and Veronica start discussing the age they think it will be proper for Kailee to date and it quickly escalates. Toby, Ty, and I just sit back and watch it all unfold.

  “I need some popcorn, please.” Ty tells the maid.

  “Sure thing, Mr. Anderson.” She walks out of the room.

  Before she can bring popcorn back, Dad and Veronica leave the room.

  “What movie do you guys want to watch?” Toby asks.

  “Movie?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to waste the popcorn,” he says.

  We all head to the basement to watch a movie on the big screen.

  The basement is probably my favorite part of this house. There is a huge theater set up with comfortable chairs and couches sitting all around. I’m not sure how big the screen is. It’s not as big as an actual theater screen, but it’s massive. Down here, there is no chandelier or fancy marble floors. There is just a huge, red shag rug. The couches are n
ice, but they’re worn. You can actually tell that we’ve lived down here. There is even a stain on the couch from when I spilled red juice on it last year. The maid tried to get it out, but considering she didn’t find the stain for about a week, there wasn’t too much she could do.

  I take a seat in my usual spot, sitting on my feet.

  Toby picks out a movie from the large selection. We literally have a wall full of shelves. There are so many movies that we’re almost out of space. He pops a movie in and sits down in the recliner. Ty takes a seat beside me.

  The maid brings down a couple of bowls of popcorn. Toby takes one and Ty and I take the other. Once she leaves, we start the movie.

  It’s the perfect Friday night.

  Saturday, September 22

  6 a.m.

  The one guy.

  Veronica wakes me up at six in the morning on Saturday. SIX! I don’t even get up that early when I have school. It’s in that moment that I regret not lying to her and saying that Ty is my boyfriend. That would’ve made this all a lot simpler. Except, I’m not dating Ty. I don’t want to date anybody. And I definitely don’t want to have a coming out party.

  Today is going to suck.

  It starts out with a dress fitting. It’s a little loose around my waist, so Veronica had Marco come over to alter it.

  Marco is Veronica’s personal assistant. I’m not sure exactly what he assists her with, but I do know that he knows a lot about fashion and clothes. He’s also really good with a needle.

  “So, this is the dress you will walk down the stairs in once you’re announced,” Veronica says.

  I’m wearing a floor length ball gown. If the dress were white, it would make a good wedding dress.

  It’s black and purple. At least Veronica considered that my favorite color is purple when she bought this dress. It has a sweetheart neckline, showing just a little bit of cleavage. Just enough to still be considered classy. The silk fabric hugs my body until it gets to my hips and then it flares out. Lace is bunched up in a few different spots, making it look even fluffier than it already does. I’m going to have problems walking down the stairs in this thing. I just hope I don’t trip and fall.

  “Your father will walk you down the stairs, where you will have the first dance with him,” she explains. “After that, you will be whisked away to change.”

  “Change?” I ask.

  “You didn’t think you were going to dance all night in this gown, did you?” she asks, shaking her head. “You’d be so uncomfortable, and it would be hot. You will be changing from this into a shorter dress. You will be dancing with potential suitors, you want to show off those great legs of yours.”

  Veronica walks to my closet and pulls out a short red dress. It has a sweetheart neckline as well and is a similar design, but it’s short. Shorter than I would pick out for myself, but I know better than to say anything. My opinion doesn’t matter.

  “It’s a beautiful dress,” I say, because it is.

  She grins. “I’m so excited for tonight.”

  I’m not.

  I’m so not.

  Making small talk.

  Dancing with guys I don’t know.

  I will pretty much be going on a million mini dates. Okay, maybe a million is a bit dramatic, but there will be a lot of guys. And I suck at dating.

  I think about it, and really, I haven’t been on a real date since I dated Ty the first time around. He always took me out on dates. He bought me clothes and jewelry to wear on those dates. He took me to nice restaurants. Gabe never did that. We just hung out, occasionally having sex. Even when we were in Bora Bora, Gabe and I never once had dinner out together, alone.

  Wow. Ty was pretty good as far as boyfriends go.

  Well, besides the cheating on me thing. That sucked.

  But he wouldn’t do that now.

  It’s crazy how much I trust Ty. I never thought that I would again, after what happened at homecoming, but I know he won’t cheat on me again. He’s changed. He’s been forced to change. The circumstances suck, but I like the person he is now.

  Ty is easy to love.

  Okay, not love, love. I love him like a friend... like a brother. No, not like a brother. I wouldn’t have sex with my brother, gross. But I love him in a non-romantic kind of way.

  Though, it would be easy to fall for him.

  “How are you liking the single life, Miss Evers?” Marco asks.

  “Call me Kihanna,” I insist. “And I love it. It’s been fun. I feel free.”

  He laughs. “To be a teenager again. I’m thirty-five and I’m single. It sucks.”

  I frown. “I’m shocked you’re single.”

  “My boyfriend of five years broke up with me about six months ago,” he says, sighing sadly. “I took it pretty hard at the time, but now I see that it was for the best. He and I were headed in separate directions. The hardest part is not talking to him. We were best friends for five years, and then there was no contact. Hopefully, someday we can be friends again.”

  “That’s sad,” I say, thinking about Brian. Maybe he was the world’s worst boyfriend, but we dated for three months. After he died, it was hard not to miss him, even if he did a lot of bad things to me.

  I guess I miss the idea of him. When we dated, I never saw the dark side of him. He was sweet and kind. He loved his family and he loved me. I never, in a million years, would’ve thought he was capable of killing somebody.

  I trusted him.

  No wonder I have commitment issues. Ty, my first boyfriend cheated on me. Gabe, my second boyfriend dumped me because he wasn’t over his dead girlfriend. Though he did immediately regret it, but it definitely made me doubt our relationship. And then Brian, my third boyfriend, stalked me and murdered people around me. How do you get over a track record like that?

  “Do you think I will ever fall in love?” I ask him. “I mean, like, really in love. Like, he’s the one, romance novel, fairytale kind of love.”

  He grins. “If that is what you want, that is what you will get. Just never settle.”

  “Marco is right,” Veronica says. “I definitely settled with my first husband. When I found Mark, I knew instantly.”

  “But you guys fight...” I say, my voice trailing off.

  “Everybody fights,” she says. “Fairytales and romance novels always end at happy ever after, but I know if they continued the story, the couples would fight. No couple is perfect and no couple thinks the same things. Opposites attract. You give, he gives, and that is what will make your marriage last.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I say, biting my lip.

  No relationship is perfect.

  I just need to find the one guy worth fighting for.

  Someday, I will.

  3 p.m.

  Dirty blonde.

  I spend the day at the spa. After being massaged and pampered all day, I have decided that maybe a coming out party isn’t so bad.

  When I get home, though, the only thing about me prepared for the night is my nails. Veronica insisted that she hire a professional to do my hair and make-up. The girl she hired to do my make-up has done make-up for a ton of stars, including Scarlett Ryan. She won’t be here until six though.

  Veronica hired her normal hair dresser, Frank, to do my hair. Frank has done my hair quite a few times. He’s really nice.

  “How is the wife?” I ask him as he runs his fingers through my hair.

  “She’s good,” he answers, then shakes his head. “I haven’t done your hair since you got back from holiday. You need a trim. Maybe a little color? I mean, you are in college now. Maybe it’s time to go blonde. It’s true. We do have more fun.”

  Frank has wanted me to go blonde for a while now, but the time has never been right.

  But maybe the time is right now.

  It’s time for a change. And since I won’t let him cut more than two-inches off, maybe it’s time for a different color.

  “Okay,” I say, biting my lip. “Let’s do it.”
>
  “Really?” Frank claps his hands together excitingly. “I love virgins.”

  “What?” I ask, coughing. “I’m not...”

  He smacks my hair. “Color virgins. Girls who have never dyed their hair before. It’s always so fun to see the reaction. I’m hoping you will get addicted to it and let me experiment on you. I’m thinking pink—”

  I cut him off. “Let’s just start with blonde.”

  He starts mixing some color.

  “Ugh, you just happen to have that stuff with you?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I was hopeful.”

  My stomach twists as I watch him. “So... ugh... what color of blonde is this? I am not going to have, like, platinum blonde hair, right?”

  “Goodness, no,” he says. “You’re complexion is too dark. We don’t want you to look like Malibu Barbie. We are doing a dirty blonde. Maybe we will go lighter later, but I don’t want to scare you too much.”

  I nod. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  6 p.m.

  I can’t even.

  Frank won’t let me see my hair until it’s completely done.

  The suspense is killing me.

  He won’t even let anybody else in the room. Ty, Toby and Veronica all tried, but he turned them away. Frank is stubborn and pretty much always gets his way. And I know this, because I’ve been pouting for the past hour and a half while he’s styled my hair.

  Well, he hasn’t been able to completely hide it. I do have long hair, so I can see the bottom of it. But he won’t let me look. I can just see it in my peripheral vision and it looks... different. I’m trying to image that color all over my head... and I simply can’t.

  I hope I don’t regret it.

  “Stop pouting,” Frank says. “I literally can’t handle it.”

  “Why do you say literally so much?” I ask. Mostly to take my mind off my hair.

  “It’s just something we say in London,” he answers. “You say the word like a lot. I suppose it’s sort of like that.”

  “How long have you been in America?”

  “Three years,” he answers. “When I married Jessica. She lived here. So I compromised. I didn’t have family there. My parents died in a car wreck when I was nineteen and I don’t have any siblings. There was nothing holding me there.”