Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

  “I panicked,” I admit. “I felt trapped. I saw my reflection in the mirror, and I…” I shudder, afraid to face the memory. Seeing my headmaster in the mirror? I can’t tell Spencer I’m insane. “I saw an ugliness in myself. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t bear it.”

  I lift my head and force a laugh. “So I did the only thing I could to erase the image.”

  Spencer looks deep into my eyes. I swallow. I feel very vulnerable right now. Who could have imagined I’d end up here, with him, of all people?

  “I believe you,” he says quietly. “I think you are telling the truth.” He picks my hand up and runs his fingers along the edge of the stitches. “But you have to promise me never to do anything so rash again.”

  I bob my head up and down. “I promise,” I whisper. Who is this man, to care so much about me? Seeing the compassion, the concern, on his face is something I never could have expected. Not out of Spencer.

  But we all have a mask we hide behind, afraid to show who we really are. It’s usually our dark side that we hide.

  Spencer hides his best.

  This type of sympathy is completely at odds with the persona of Spencer I’d built up in my mind. But now, it seems to fit. It fits the person I’m starting to see he really is.

  “And Paige?”

  I look up.

  “There is no ugliness in you. You’re beautiful.”

  I smile sadly as my heart breaks inside. “You don’t know that.”

  “No.” Spencer shakes his head. “You don’t know that, kitten. I’m going to spend every minute of… whatever we have between us… proving it to you.”

  I close my eyes to gather my strength. I don’t deserve this. Why is he being so sweet? Why—

  “Oh God, Katy!” I burst out. I’m an idiot! How could I have forgotten about her?

  “Relax. Paige, look at me.” Spencer takes my hand again. “Kate made it through the night. The worst is over. She made it. She’s alive.”

  Alive! I’m so happy I could sing. I can’t stop the tears from swelling in my eyes.

  “Paige? Did you hear me? Kate’s alive. Why are you crying?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I blubber. “I’m just happy.” I wipe at my eyes. “It’s emotional for me, I guess.”

  “Girls,” Spencer mutters, leaning back in his seat. “Crying when you’re sad, crying when you’re happy. How is a guy supposed to know which one’s which?”

  That gets a small smile out of me.

  “Spencer?” I say. “Thank you for taking care of me. Bringing me here. Staying until I woke up.”

  “It’s not like you gave me much choice,” he points out. “But I would never have abandoned you.”

  “Can we see Katy now? Is she nearby?”

  Spencer shakes his head. “She’s still under close surveillance. And still unconscious. They’ll tell us when she wakes up.”

  ***

  Katy spends the next three days in the hospital. Spencer and I both have class, but we make time to see her. A sort of unspoken, communal bond forms between me and him.

  We don’t talk about what happened in his apartment. But the penetrating looks Spencer directs at me every once in a while let me know he hasn’t forgotten.

  When Katy is released on the fourth day, she is energetic and full of life. I don’t bring up the weight loss drugs. It’s too soon. When she’s ready, and only if she wants to, I’ll be there to talk to her about them. But not yet.

  Besides, one condition of her release involves regular counseling for the next three months. She’ll have ample opportunity to discuss the drugs there.

  I don’t run into Andrew at all. That disappoints me, despite what happened with Spencer. I hoped he’d have taken the initiative to find me by now.

  In the midst of everything, I miss a few practices. I talk to the aquatics director about it, blaming it on my need to focus on school. I neglect to mention the gnash that I’ve been hiding beneath long-sleeve shirts since my hospital stay.

  He agrees that academics should come first. That doesn’t hide his disappointment, however. But more pressure is the last thing I need right now. My scholarship depends on maintaining good grades, so class has to take priority anyway.

  A week after Katy comes home, I bump into Spencer while rushing from the student center to class. My economics professor, Paul Bauer, is a stickler for punctuality. He has the teaching assistants dock points from the final exams for anyone who shows up late even once.

  “Hey, hey, what’s the rush?” Spencer asks, catching me by the elbow as I pass.

  “I have to run,” I tell him, sneaking an anxious glance at the large clock on the face of the building. “I have less than two minutes to get to Emerson Hall.”

  Spencer whistles. “That’s all the way across campus. There’s no way you can make it.”

  “Thank you, Spencer, for the helpful reminder,” I say scathingly.

  He looks me up and down, oblivious as always to my snarkiness. Then he nods to himself and grabs my hand. “Come on.”

  He pulls me after him so fast I can barely protest. “What? Spencer, let go! Emerson Hall is the other way!”

  “I know,” he tells me over his shoulder. “But my bike’s parked over here.”

  I stare at him. “You want to give me a ride?”

  He shrugs. “Why not? That’s what friends do, right?”

  I smile to myself. “Right.”

  “Besides, I can’t bear the thought of you tripping and scuffing up those tight little jeans of yours,” he grins.

  The girl Spencer was with when I saw him catches up to us just as the engine roars to life.

  “Dude, what the hell?” she pouts. “You’re just going to ditch me for her?” She shoots a disgusted glance my way. “You said we’d get lunch together today!”

  “No, I said I’d let you buy me lunch,” Spencer corrects. He turns to me and adds in a stage whisper, “Tiffany’s been hounding me for weeks about it.”

  The girl huffs, but whatever she says next is drowned out by the roar of Spencer’s engine.

  I wrap my arms tight around his body as he zooms out of the lot. He maneuvers through traffic like a street racer, dodging cars and running stop signs to get me to Emerson Hall in time.

  I scream as I cling to him, terrified I’ll fall off, exhilarated by his mastery of the bike, and thrilled by the rush of adrenaline that’s coursing through my body.

  When he pulls up outside the lecture building less than a minute later, my heart is pounding faster than if I’d have sprinted all the way.

  I gulp down air. My whole body’s shaking. I’ve never experienced anything like that before.

  Spencer grins at me as I stumble off the bike. “You like that?”

  I hit his arm. “Are you mad? Do you want to get both of us killed?”

  “Yeah, you liked it,” Spencer smirks.

  “Please don’t tell me you make a habit of driving like that. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing you’re on the streets risking your life.”

  Spencer laughs. “So, you finally admit you care about me?”

  I stick my tongue out at him in reply.

  He nods toward the building, reminding me of my destination. I turn around, and immediately feel his hand slap my ass.

  I jump and my cheeks go bright red.

  “Go on, then,” Spencer grins. “I won’t have you showing up late after what I went through to get you here.”

  I turn to glower at him, but he’s already kicked off. As I watch him leave, I can still feel the impression of his hand on my skin. It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels… kind of hot.

  ***

  I’m nodding off during Professor Bauer’s usual, dry lecture when my phone buzzes with a text. I turn it on and check the screen.

  Spencer: Fun riding w you ;) I know you’re free after class, so how about that date we postponed? I think you owe me a rain check.

  I consider turning him down just for a moment, the
n think better of it. I have nothing against Spencer anymore.

  Me: Pick me up @ 5.

  Chapter Twenty

  I return to our dorm to find Katy playing keep-away with Pickles and a spot of light that reflects from her iPhone.

  Katy keeps the spot still as Pickles crawls up to it. Right as he pounces, she jerks it away.

  “That was his favorite game back home,” I laugh, pouring myself some water.

  Katy giggles. “He looks so serious when he’s stalking the light.” She squeals. “Oh, look! Look! See how his ears perk up when he gets close?”

  I laugh and pick Pickles up. He squirms out of my grip, upset that I’ve interrupted his hunt.

  When he lands on the floor, he runs to the far wall and starts jumping up to reach the little ball of light.

  “Don’t tease him forever or he’ll get bored,” I warn, settling on the couch behind Katy.

  “He wouldn’t know what to do if he caught it,” she answers.

  I smile, watching Pickles’ mad attempts to rush up the wall. I’m happy he has found himself a home here.

  “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” I ask Katy.

  She grimaces and sets down her phone. The ray of light comes to a stop on the floor.

  Pickles leaps at it. He looks a little confused when it doesn’t jerk away. He paws at it a few times, then, realizing it’s “dead,” swings his tail up and walks away.

  “I’ve got my first stupid counseling meeting,” Katy moans. “I made a mistake once. And they want to keep reminding me about it for twelve weeks? Lame.”

  “Maybe if you convince them of that, they’ll let you off early,” I offer.

  Katy blows out her cheeks. “Pfft. I fucking doubt it. Even worse, I’m to be paired up with one of those wannabe shrinks from the graduate school.” She frowns. “There’s nothing more demoralizing than having my actions picked apart by someone barely older than I am.”

  “They set you up with a student?” I ask, surprised. “That doesn’t seem very professional.”

  “The school cuts corners where they can. Just like everybody else,” Katy says. “They let their psychology students sit in on a few official sessions, and then give them the reins. As a way of giving them ‘work experience.’” She makes air quotes.

  “Can’t you complain about that?” I ask. “There’s no way they should send you to a student for counseling.”

  “Actually, it was kind of my choice,” Katy admits. “They said I could go to a practicing shrink somewhere in the city, or work with their program here.” She shrugs. “Staying on campus seems like less of a hassle.”

  “Look on the bright side,” I say. “Maybe your counselor will turn out to be a hot guy.”

  “You sound like me,” Katy grins. “Though with my luck, there’s more of a chance I end up with a lesbian. Although maybe if she’s attractive enough…” she trails off, twirling her hair in her fingers.

  “Katy!” I admonish.

  She snaps out of it. “What? Haven’t you ever thought of what it’d be like to be with a girl?”

  “Never,” I gasp.

  Katy turns to me with her eyes dancing. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never, ever wondered what it would be like to have sex with a woman?”

  “No,” I say flatly, repulsed by the thought.

  Katy pulls herself onto the couch and slides closer to me. She glances down at the small space between us and starts playing with a loose thread in my jeans. Her voice is soft when she speaks. “I have. In fact, I’ve thought about it a lot.” Her fingers let go of the thread and start tracing small, faint circles on my thigh. “Have you ever kissed a girl, Paige?”

  “No.” I clear my throat, starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable. “Katy, I’m not—”

  “A dyke?” she finished for me. A sly smile plays on her lips. “Don’t worry. I’m not, either. But haven’t you ever felt the least bit curious about what you might be missing?” Her exploration of my thigh becomes bolder, more pronounced. “Just imagine it. Soft lips. Smooth skin. A warm, sensual caress.”

  She snaps her head up and looks into my eyes. “A girl would know exactly how to get you off. So many guys are just fumbling around in the dark down there.” She glances at the spot between my legs.

  “Katy…”

  “Shh.” She presses a finger to my lips. “Don’t question things so much, Paige.”

  Her mouth is so close to mine I can smell the minty hint of her gum.

  She lifts a leg and brings it across my lap, straddling me. All of a sudden, I feel like I’m cornered again. Panic threatens to set in. Katy nuzzles her nose in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. Her hair brushes my skin.

  I freeze in shock.

  “Paige…” Katy whispers in my ear. Her hand runs up the side of my body, brushing over one breast. “…you’re too tense. Sometimes it’s better to just let go!”

  She leaps off me and explodes in a fit of laughter. I stare at her, wide-eyed and bewildered. “What on earth was that?”

  “You’re strung too tight, girl!” she laughs. “I was just playing with you!” She sees the blank expression on my face. “Hey, come on, lighten up a bit. I know you like guys.”

  I cross my arms and bring my legs up tight to my body. It’s a closed-off, defensive posture. “That wasn’t funny.”

  “Yes, it was! You should have seen yourself. You were trembling like a babe left in the rain.” Katy laughs again.

  I remain stoic.

  “Oh, come on,” she says. “Are you seriously mad at me? It was just a little joke.”

  “You went too far.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Relax, Paige. It’s not like I forced you to have sex or anything.”

  Katy catches the change in my demeanor. Her laughter cuts off as if severed by a knife. Slowly, she walks toward me, then cups my chin and tilts my head up at her.

  “Someone must have really done a number on you,” she says, searching my eyes. “Who?”

  I pretend ignorance and shake my head.

  Katy lets go of my chin and sits beside me. “Who taught you sex was such a bad thing?”

  “What?” I try to laugh and scoff at the same time. It comes out as a pathetic sound. “No one.”

  “It makes so much sense,” Katy says to herself. “The way you go bright red every time sex is brought up. The determined way you’ve avoided Spencer’s advances all semester. Of course Andrew is the easy choice for you! There’s no pressure with him.” She turns and looks at me. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  I take a deep breath and put on my most serious expression. “Katy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s time to let that part of your past go. You have to decide for yourself whether sex is right for you,” she tells me, taking my hand. “Just so you know,” she adds, “having sex doesn’t make you dirty or bad.”

  Her smile is warm and her eyes are gentle. “If you want to talk, I’ll always be here.”

  I clear my throat, whipping up an excuse. “Katy, honestly, I know it’s not… bad.” I try hard to make myself believe the words. “I’ve avoided Spencer because I just don’t like him that way.” Or has that already changed? I think to myself. “I only agreed to things with Andrew because he seemed like a good guy. And the little show you put on just now caught me by surprise, that’s all. I thought you were actually coming on to me. You’ve got to admit, it would have been awkward, with us being roommates and all.”

  Katy chews the inside of her cheek and looks me over. She has a thoughtful expression on her face.

  “Okay,” she says finally.

  I exhale a great sigh of relief. This is not a conversation I wanted to have, ever.

  “But,” Katy continues, making my insides clench up again, “if you ever want to talk about it, just remember that our future does not have to be shaped by the past. There are plenty of people in mine who’ve been wrong about pretty much everything they tried to teach m
e.” She squeezes my hand and gives me a smile.

  ***

  Katy leaves for counseling fifteen minutes later, giving me time to think about everything before Spencer arrives.

  Boarding school wasn’t just about feeling guilty and having labels pinned on you by the instructors. There were good parts, too.

  Those are the things I should have taken with me: Sneaking into the cafeteria late one night and spiking the next morning’s oatmeal with Gatorade. Jumping into the small lake hidden on the grounds in nothing but our underwear in the dead cold of November. Staying up late watching made-for-TV movies and mooning over the handsome stars from two, three, or even four decades ago.

  Why, then, do I have to keep replaying the negative things?

  Intimacy frightens me. I know myself well enough to admit that. After the disaster with Jeremy in ninth grade, I’ve walled myself off. I don’t know much about intimacy. Every time some semblance of it enters my mind, I squash it.

  Blocking it out seems easier than trying to undo years of lecturing and lambasting.

  I know I’m not alone in that fear. Some girls vow to be celibate. I don’t want that. But, I don’t want to jump in headfirst and start having meaningless, anonymous sex over and over again.

  I’m not like that. Sex is equated to the greatest form of intimacy in my mind. I can’t imagine anything more special to share with someone.

  I shake my head. Nineteen years old, and practically a virgin? Well, maybe not technically, I don’t think the catastrophe in boarding school should count.

  Worse, I’m not even sure my reasons for abstaining since then are my own.

  Maybe Katy’s right. Maybe I do need to loosen up.

  This is college, for crying out loud. I left my old life behind when I came here. It’s not too late to reinvent myself.

  I stand up, feeling a new determination come over me. If I want to reinvent myself, the first thing to do is get over my fear of intimacy.

  That means having sex.

  I hate the way my past still holds sway over me. I want to deny it that power, but I can’t. Pretending a certain portion of your life never happened will only get you so far.