North Woods University

by Beck, J. L.

  The softest of smiles creeps onto her lips, and the need to pull up that tiny miniskirt and spank her ass consumes me. She needs to be taught a lesson, one that she’ll actually remember, and I’m seconds away from doing just that when she opens her mouth and starts to speak.

  “I want to hurt because I deserve to suffer. I’m alive, and they’re all dead. All of them. They left me here….” Tears pool in her eyes, and my heart shreds into thin pieces at the sight. My stomach tightens, and I want to throw up. All the knives in the world could cut through my heart, and it would hurt less than it does right now, looking at Lily with regret, and tears in her eyes.

  “They left me, Seb. I should be with them!” Her voice rises, and her clenched fists beat against the mattress. “I should have been in the car with them.”

  “No. No, you shouldn’t.” I can’t help myself. Fuck the repercussions. Fuck everything. Tugging her toward me, I pull her into my arms, and she lets me, almost like she knows she needs me. My chest fills with an unknown emotion, and I squeeze her, wanting her to know I’ve got her without saying it.

  “Don’t talk like that. Don’t act like your life is any less because you weren’t in the car that day. It’s not your fault, none of it is.” The fact that she thinks this, that she feels like she’s to blame, that she wishes she was in the car. It enrages me while only making me want her more. She needs me.

  “I tried to end it… I tried to make it better.” My arms tighten around her on instinct. She tried to end it? I stare down at her, her eyes flutter closed, and I know she’s close to passing out, but I have to know what she’s talking about. I have to.

  “What do you mean you tried to end it?” My hot breath fans against her cheek, and I cup one of her cheeks in my hand, sliding my thumb along her plump bottom lip while I wait for her to answer me. Those lips of hers part, releasing a soft breath, but words never follow. Instead, she passes out in my arms. My hand remains on her face for a long time while I do nothing more than hold her to my chest, wishing that things could be different.

  Temptation is a bitch. To want and need for something you cannot have, even worse. It’s evident that Lily needs me, but how can I be there for her without crossing the line? How do I support her and care for her without giving in?

  She wants me. I want her. All the rules say we shouldn’t be together. That we can’t. I’ve never wanted to say fuck you to the rules so badly. I look around her room, trying to look anywhere but at her face, even though that’s all I want to take in. Half of the room’s walls are covered with art. Drawings, paintings, and sketches, one more beautiful than the next. I knew she was here on an art scholarship, but I didn’t realize she was that good. I make a mental note to talk to her art teachers and see how we can help her get noticed.

  When she starts to lightly snore, and I’ve held her in my arms much longer than I should’ve, I tuck her into bed and press a kiss to her forehead. A whimper passes her lips at the loss of my touch, but she snuggles into the pillow a moment later. It’s like I’m being pulled in two directions. The right one, and the one that my body wants me to give in to. Giving her one last glance, I slip out of her room, locking the door behind me.

  Exhausted, and beat the fuck down, I walk out of the dorm trying my best not to draw attention. I’ve just reached the door, so close to escaping without a single soul seeing me when the door comes flying open, and a tiny woman comes rushing through it, her body slamming into mine without pause. My hands move on their own, grabbing onto her arms to steady her.

  “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.” The woman’s voice pierces my ears, and I realize then that I’ve heard that voice before. When she lifts her head, and her face comes into view, I damn near sigh in relief.

  “Delilah?” Thank fuck, it’s not someone else.

  “Mr. Miller?” She squeaks, shock filling her eyes. Instantly, I release her. She sways on her feet for a moment before standing up a little taller. “What are you doing here? It’s after midnight.” Fuck. I didn’t even think to look at the time before I left. I can’t imagine how bad this looks.

  “Uh, yes, there was… there… there was an issue in the dorms. I was just clearing it up. Ummm, have a good night,” I lie, and watch as a smile creeps onto her face. If she knows I’m lying, she doesn’t say anything.

  When I finally get outside, I all but run to my jeep, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  The lies are piling up.

  The temptation is too great.

  I’m going to end up snapping, breaking straight down the middle. The only question is, will it be worth it? Is Lily Kline worth giving up everything I’ve worked so hard for?

  74

  Lily

  One week has passed since the night that I passed out in Sebastian’s arms. Delilah has asked me half a dozen times what happened that night, and even though I tell her nothing happened, she still doesn’t believe me. I guess it’s only a half-lie. Something happened that night, it’s called, I spilled all my stupid beans, but it’s not as juicy or fun as D is making it out to be.

  “Come on, I have to go to class in ten minutes you could at least give me a little tiny piece of what happened? It’s not like I’m going to tell.”

  Rolling my eyes hard enough to give myself a headache, I snap. “It’s not like that, D. I mean it kinda is, but it’s not. It wasn’t… we didn’t do anything that night.”

  D crosses her arms over her chest. “You can’t say it’s kinda like that, and then it’s not. It’s either fucking or not fucking. Which is it?”

  My mouth pops open. “Neither. It’s neither. Go to class. I have a headache, and I need to try and find a way to make this better.”

  “Well, a good start would be to just screw him. It’s evident that you have chemistry.”

  How did I know she would say that? Like it’s no big deal to sleep with the Dean of the university. Like it won’t get him in trouble or cost him everything? Like it won’t make people look at me, or call me names? As if screwing will make all of our problems go away?

  “Chemistry doesn’t make it okay, D. I’ll explain more later.”

  Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she takes a step toward the door. “Whatever, if you aren’t going to spill, then I’m not going to risk being late for class.”

  “Good idea,” I concur.

  “Make good choices. I’ll see you at dinner.” She smiles and walks out of the cafeteria.

  I clean up our table and bring the dishes to the conveyor belt before leaving myself. I don’t have any more classes for the rest of the day, so I’m heading straight to the dorm, planning to relax with some painting, a tub of ice cream, and a glass of wine.

  Fifteen minute later, I’m back at the dorm, and do exactly what I’d planned to do. Getting out my art easel, I set up my canvas before I line my paints and brushes. I get out a glass, and the wine bottle, as well as a tub of ice cream and a spoon.

  There we go, the scene is set for a perfect afternoon.

  Taking a few bites of the ice cream, I use the time to fill the canvas in my mind. As the cool sugary chocolate chip mint goodness melts on my tongue, I decide on a night-time skyline. Putting the ice cream down, I hold my full wine glass in one hand and my paintbrush in the other.

  Starting with the outline, I carefully place each line, getting a feel for the entire composition. With each stroke of my brush and each sip of my wine, I feel the tension leave my body. Home. When I’m painting, creating this piece of magic, it’s like nothing can touch me. Like I’m invincible. It doesn’t take long to finish the painting or the bottle of wine.

  I’m just adding the final details on the oversized moon hanging high above the skyline when a knock on the door rips my attention away from the canvas.

  Delilah must have forgotten her keys again. I swear the girl would forget her head if it wasn’t attached. Meandering off the bed with my almost empty wine glass in hand, I open the door. Ready to start making fun of D for being so forgetful, I ope
n my mouth, but the words never come as the person on the other side of the door isn’t Delilah at all, but one of the dorm monitors.

  Her eyes instantly go to the wine glass I’m holding. Shit. Alcohol is a no go in the dorms, they even have you sign paperwork upon moving in stating that you understand that and agree to abide by the no drinking rule.

  “Ms. Kline,” the petite middle-aged woman tsks.

  “Yes…”

  “May I come in?” At her question, I open the door all the way and wave her in with my free hand. She crosses the threshold, and I feel compelled to slam the door in her face, but don’t. Having a place to sleep is pretty high on my list. Once inside, she turns around, her eyes roam over the room. It looks like she’s trying to find something, anything to write me up for.

  When her icy gaze swings back to me, she asks, “Are you aware that alcohol is prohibited in the dorms?”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes at her. “Yes, I know, but do you know that this is college, and everybody drinks?” I immediately regret my words. Fucking wine. Curse you. It has words tumbling out of my mouth before my brain can catch up.

  The woman’s mouth pulls into a thin line. “That might be so, but your drinking must be pretty excessive if we have other students complaining about you.”

  What the fuck?

  My eyes go wide at her accusation. I mean, yes, I’ve been drinking a few nights a week, but doesn’t every other college student on the planet? I can’t imagine anybody reporting me for it, and it’s not like I’m loud and obnoxious when I’m drunk. This woman should go to the frat houses on a Friday night.

  “Do you understand how serious this is? I could kick you out of the dorms right now, you know. We have a zero-tolerance policy.” Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Please, it’s just some wine. I’ll pour it out right now.” I don’t think I’ve ever sobered up so quickly in my life.

  “Calm down, I’m going to give you a warning this time.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her purse and hands it to me. “I need you to sign this form. It says that you understand that you are on probation and will be evicted if there are any further violations.”

  “Oh… o-okay,” I stutter, taking the paper from her. I sign along the bottom where it says signature and hand it back to her.

  “There is a waiting list for these dorms, and when we have students drinking, and acting out, it makes it very easy for us to determine who to remove and who to keep.”

  “Got it.” The warning couldn’t be any clearer.

  “Goodnight, Ms. Kline.” She dismisses me and walks out of the room like she was never here. I close the door behind her, and then go, and crawl into my bed. Who would report me? Better yet who has seen me drunk? The only person that mentioned seeing Sebastian in the dorm was Delilah, and I haven’t heard any rumors being spread, then again, I probably wouldn’t. It’s not like I’m hanging out with the popular crowd. This is nothing but another piece of shit on an already shitastic day. Pulling the blanket up and over my head, I squeeze my eyes shut, and wish for tomorrow come.

  * * *

  Spoiler alert, the next day isn’t any better. Walking into creative writing, I can already feel eyes on me. Three girls are whispering and giggling as I enter the room. I can only assume they’re talking about me since they’re damn near staring craters through my face as I walk by. Taking my usual seat toward the back, I pull out my notebook, and pen, and prepare for class, ignoring their icy glares from across the room.

  I’ve just started writing my daily journal entry when a shadow crosses in front of me, blocking out the light from above. Dropping my pen, I look up and meet Arabella Hamilton’s disgusted gaze.

  “I bet you thought you were so cool trying to bring Kyle back to your dorm with you?” My brows furrow in confusion, what is she… then it connects Kyle… Kyle Weber, the guy I almost dragged to my dorm room in an attempt to forget Sebastian. Disgusted with myself, I think back to that night. I would have taken him up to my room if it hadn’t been for Sebastian. I would’ve given my v-card to some random guy for no reason at all.

  “I didn’t know he was with anybody…” I honestly didn’t. He definitely didn’t act like it, and he didn’t say I have a girlfriend, which should’ve been the first thing he said if he was truly taken, right?

  “Save it.” She flicks her auburn hair over her shoulder, examining her nails as if they’re more entertaining than me. “Everybody knows Kyle is my boyfriend. And I mean, everybody.” She’s talking slow now like I’m dumb or something, and if I cared, I suppose I’d be insulted, but I’m not. It takes much more than some mean girl spewing a little hate to break me.

  “Maybe if you weren’t so fucking weird you would know this because you would have friends to tell you not to touch another woman’s man, and don’t even use the excuse of being drunk.” Ignoring her second comment, I stare at her perfectly painted face.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “I have friends.”

  Arabella laughs, but it sounds more like a witch screaming into the night. “Your roommate doesn’t count, idiot. She has to like you since she’s forced to live with you.”

  Okay, that one stung a little, but it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter. D and I are tighter than pigs in mud.

  Pursing my lips, I mumble, “Okay, I get it, I’m weird, and you love Kyle. I won’t flirt with him again. Can we move on now?”

  “Sure, we’ll move on… might want to make sure you don’t get caught drinking in the dorms again. Wouldn’t want anybody to report you,” she grins, and all I want to do is wipe that stupid smile off her face.

  “This is college. Who reports someone for drinking? Literally, everyone is drinking. I mean Liam is passed out on the goddamn table over there.” I point to Liam, who is one of the biggest partiers I know. He legit is at a party every night. I have no idea how he makes it to classes, let alone on time.

  She shrugs, and the two girls flanking her do so too. “Don’t know, don’t care. All I know is that you better keep your hands to yourself, and your mouth off the beer bottle.” She snickers all the way back to her seat, and I grab my pen, squeezing it between my fingers. I want to scribble all over the page, scream, throw something, do anything but sit in this damn room for the next hour with that witch and her fake ass friends, but there’s nothing I can do.

  All class period, I stare at the back of her head, telling myself it’s not worth the trouble to toss my pen or maybe even the chair I’m sitting on, at the back of her head.

  As soon as the professor excuses us, I start to gather my things and get up to leave. I’m walking down the center aisle toward the double doors when someone’s elbow jabs into my ribs, knocking the air out of my lungs, and books onto the floor.

  “Oh, sorry,” Arabella giggles as she continues walking by me. It takes all my restraint not to grab her hair and pull her down onto the floor. The only thing keeping me from doing that is knowing that if I get into a fight, I can kiss my scholarship goodbye.

  Her cronies follow behind her, each kicking one of my books across the floor as they do. “Oops,” they cackle in unison. Luckily, we’re in the back of the class, and no one seems to notice the scene unfolding, or no one cares.

  I wait until the teacher, as well as most of the students, have left the room before I start to collect my books off the ground. One geeky looking guy ends up helping me pick them up, probably feeling sorry for me. I give him a grateful smile before he disappears from the room.

  On the way home, I hold the backpack strap so tightly I think I might rip it in two with my grip. I want to punch something… or someone so badly. The anger inside of me building, ready to explode at any given moment.

  It’s not just the skank squad who has my fury at the tipping point. It’s everything, everything combined, like a hundred small patches of fire have finally come together, and formed into one huge blaze, large enough to burn down half the rainforest.

  All of the things I’ve been holding on t
o, suppressing, shoving deep, and trying to drown with alcohol are now bubbling up to the surface. I’m no longer able to keep it down and contained. By the time I get to the dorm, I’m basically speed walking. All I want to do is get to the room, lock myself in, and the rest of the world out.

  Everything sinks a little lower when I enter the room and find that Delilah is not here. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. I don’t want her to see me like this, but I could really use a friend right now. Anybody, but that’s just it. I have no one. I’m all alone… I have no one.

  Tears I didn’t know I was holding back start falling down my face without permission, and the pain in my chest migrates down into my gut. I just don’t want to be alone anymore.

  I want to make the loneliness go away, the pain of losing them still hurts so bad, it feels like I just lost them yesterday, and I’m reliving the moment over and over again. My soul is shattered beyond repair. There’s no saving me. Nothing can fix this kind of pain.

  Not knowing any other way to make it go away, to numb the pain, I reach for the bottle of wine from beside my bed. Not even bothering to get a glass, I unscrew the cap and bring it to my lips. I tip the bottle back until the tangy alcohol fills my mouth. I don’t know how much was left, but I don’t sit the bottle back down until it’s empty, the contents sinking heavily into my stomach, warming me from the inside out.

  More. I need more.

  Never before did I feel the need to use drinking as much to cover up my pain, to numb it. I thought I was done with this after my grandparents sent me to rehab. I thought I had gotten past this. Until I came to North Woods. Until him. I didn’t expect him to be here, didn’t expect him to be the Dean of the university. A bitter bubble of laughter escapes my lips, that would be my luck.