The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

“You’re more like me than you’d ever want to admit.” He grins, his hand tightening around mine. Talking about himself always seems to please him. “Just—leave that kid alone. I didn’t even know Sorrento had a son, let alone one that’s about your age.”

  “Then how do you know who I was talking to?” My tone is innocent, but I’m trying to dig. I want to know exactly why my father feels this way toward the Sorrento family.

  “I saw you speaking with him earlier and I asked who he was.” Dad sends me a stern look. “Stay away from him.”

  Silly man. This makes me only want to talk to Tony more. Don’t parents realize that? If the one you’re interested in suddenly becomes forbidden, all you want is what you can’t have.

  My gaze starts scanning the room as I continue to dance with my father, but I don’t spot Tony anywhere. It’s also kind of dark since they dimmed the lights once the music started, so it’s difficult to see.

  “May I cut in?” asks a smooth, male voice.

  I glance up to find it’s the plastic surgeon’s son, Joseph. My father gets a huge smile on his face as he releases my hand, steering me toward him.

  “Please do.” Dad winks at me before he quickly exits the dance floor, leaving me with Joseph and no other choice but to dance with him.

  He pulls me into his arms, holding me at a respectable distance before we start to move. He’s smooth, I’ll give him that. Wonder if he had cotillion lessons—I did. I was supposed to be a debutante, but I convinced my parents it wasn’t for me. Both of them pushed hard, though. All that money spent on cotillion lessons for nothing? They were pissed. I’m sure they’ll do the same to Palmer.

  “I’m glad we finally get to meet,” Joseph says after a few seconds of silently dancing.

  “Me too,” I say, a weak smile curving my lips.

  “Your stepmom has told me a lot about you,” he continues.

  “She’s not my stepmom,” I correct.

  “Oh. Well, your dad’s girlfriend then. She’s really sweet.”

  “Sure. Yes. She’s okay, I suppose.” I send him a curious look, not wanting to discuss Lauri with him. “Why aren’t you at school right now?”

  “Oh. I came home for the weekend. It’s my father’s birthday tomorrow.” His hand shifts on my back, dropping lower. If he keeps going, it’ll eventually be on my butt, and I won’t stand for that. I barely know this dude.

  “How nice. Is there a party?”

  “Yes, tomorrow afternoon at our house.” His face brightens. “You should come. Lauri and your father are both invited.”

  “Maybe I will, though I have to head back home tomorrow.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Fresno.”

  He makes a face. Everyone is so snobbish about Fresno. “Why?”

  “I go to Fresno State.”

  “What’s your major?”

  “Liberal arts.” He frowns at my response. “I want to be a teacher,” I explain.

  Joseph laughs. “Let me guess. For first graders?”

  I don’t know why his accurate guess irritates me, but it does. Maybe it’s his mocking tone. The amusement in his gaze makes me think he’s making fun of me.

  “Sorry. I need to use the restroom.” I withdraw from his arms before the song even ends and flee the dance floor, exiting the room as fast as I can. I find the hallway where the restrooms are and push my way into the ladies’ room, hiding away in a stall so I don’t have to look at anyone while I cool down.

  Joseph seriously infuriated me. Why can’t rich people have simple dreams? I could be anything I want, that’s what my father always told me, ever since I was a little girl. So why does he balk at me being an elementary school teacher? And why does everyone else think it’s a big joke?

  I don’t get it.

  The bathroom door opens and I hear two females talking, their voices low, as if they’re trying to keep it down.

  “No one’s in here,” one of them says. Her voice is familiar.

  “Are you sure?”

  Oh shit. That voice is definitely familiar.

  “Positive,” the other woman says firmly. “Now hurry and tell me what’s going on before someone comes in here and interrupts us.”

  “It’s Joseph,” says the more familiar voice. “He wants me to go to his father’s party tomorrow.”

  “And why wouldn’t you? They always throw the best parties.”

  “Because he’ll try and make a move on me again. I know he will.”

  I cover my mouth with my hand, shock coursing through me. That’s Lauri who’s speaking. And she’s claiming that Joseph—the guy I just danced with, Mr. Future Plastic Surgeon, is trying to make a move on her. When she’s already with my father.

  Ew.

  “What’s wrong with that? I mean, I know we’re both with older men, but sometimes I really miss young dick.” The other woman laughs.

  “I know, though Brian doesn’t lack, if you know what I mean.”

  Oh God, she’s talking about my father. I do not want to hear this conversation. Not like I can reveal myself though, because then they’ll know I heard it all.

  “Anthony is so tired all the time, and when he drinks too much, he deflates.”

  “Can’t get it up?”

  “Yes, and then he passes out and snores so loudly, I go sleep in one of the guest bedrooms.” A sigh escapes her. “What did you think of my new stepson?”

  “A hottie,” Lauri says firmly. “Tall, dark and mysterious.”

  “Right? Oh my God. He’s gorgeous. And full of resentment toward Anthony. I wonder if he’d be willing to get back at his father by fucking his dad’s wife behind his back.”

  The two women burst into laughter, and I realize the other woman is Tony’s stepmom.

  Double ew.

  The door suddenly bangs open and a slew of chattering women enter. I wait it out a few more minutes, praying Laurie and Tony’s stepmom have left, and by the time I exit the stall, I see the coast is clear. I hurriedly wash my hands and leave the bathroom, practically running down the corridor in hopes I can find my father and warn him that Lauri might be having an affair with someone my age when I come to a complete stop.

  Joseph is closer to Lauri in age than my dad is. And she didn’t flat out say she was involved with Joseph. More that he’s always making moves on her. That’s two very different things. Do I really want to open up this can of worms when I have no proof that anything’s actually going on?

  Not really.

  Sighing, I turn and head for the outside patio to get some fresh air. There are other people out there too, most of them couples who are probably seeking privacy, but I won’t stay long.

  I just need to collect my thoughts first.

  I’m heading toward the farthest right corner of the terrace when I spot him. Sitting on a chair all by himself, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. It’s rare to see someone my age actually smoke a cigarette. Everyone I know vapes. And I’m not one to find smokers attractive. Smoking kills. It’s the worst. A nasty habit.

  But Tony Sorrento slouched in a chair in a full suit and a loosened tie around his neck with a cigarette between his full lips is something I cannot resist.

  “Tony Sorrento.”

  He glances up when he hears his name, a faint smile curling his lips as he plucks the unlit cigarette from his lips. “Hayden Channing.”

  Hmm, someone mentioned me to him. “You know my last name.”

  He tips his head. “You know mine.”

  “My father told me,” I admit.

  “Same.” He hesitates for only a moment. “My father hates your father.”

  “Mine hates yours too. I think they’re mortal enemies.” I take a few steps closer, so I’m standing directly in front of him. A breeze picks up, catching my skirt so the hem grazes his knees.

  “Did yours forbid you from talking to me?” He raises a single dark brow, his expression questioning.

  I burst out laughing. “No. Though he did call you
, and I quote, ‘bad news’.”

  “I’ve never met your father before in my life. He doesn’t even know me,” he says with a grimace.

  “That’s what I told him! How could he know you’re bad news if he’s never even met you?” I shake my head.

  “Exactly. People are so judgmental.” His gaze rakes over me, lingering on my chest for a little too long and making my skin warm. Guess he’s not put off by my natural breasts. “Can I confess something to you?”

  If he confesses he’s attracted to me and wants to sneak away into a secret closet somewhere, I’m going to readily agree, no questions asked. “Sure,” I say, my voice cool. Like he doesn’t affect me whatsoever.

  “Today is the first time I’ve seen my father in years,” he admits. “We talk on the phone, or we text, but that’s about it.”

  Oh. That’s not even close to what I expected him to confess. Though he did mention he was seeing his father for the first time when we were at the dealership. “How long has it been?”

  “Give or take six years,” he says with a shrug.

  “Really?” I practically squeak. When he nods, I continue, “If you haven’t seen him, how did he get your cars to you?”

  “He had them sent. He has everything sent. He sends me gifts in the mail. Deposits money in my account. Makes sure my mom and I have everything we need. When I moved out for college, he took care of my tuition, my living expenses, everything.” He looks off in the distance, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. “He gives me everything but his time.”

  My heart pangs for him. I know what that feels like. “I assume he’s busy.”

  “Yeah, with his new family,” he mutters with seeming disgust. “Today is the first time I’ve met my stepmom too. Though she’s not that much older than me.”

  Interesting. No wonder she acted like he was a brand-new toy for her to play with. “Guess it’s been a big day for you then.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” He shifts, digging through his front pocket before he pulls a lighter out, settling the cigarette between his lips before he brings the lighter to the end and lights it. He immediately blows out a hazy string of smoke and I can’t help but frown. “I’m guessing you hate smoking.”

  “It’s a dirty habit,” I say without hesitation.

  “I’m sure you’ve got a few.” He sends me a knowing look.

  Ooh. That was kind of hot.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I tease, hoping I sound sultry, though maybe my response is silly. I don’t know.

  He smiles, but says nothing, and his lack of response is unnerving. Look, men don’t scare me. They never really have. I’ve always been a flirt. I can admit I like a guy’s attention, but I don’t need it twenty-four/seven. Yes, I had the typical relationships in high school, but once I got into college, I became selfish.

  Who needs a relationship? Not me. I’m too young. I’d rather be free. Look what happens when people fall in love and get married?

  They lie. They cheat on each other. They fight. They get divorced.

  No thanks.

  That’s why I always keep it light. I don’t let men intimidate me or push me into something I’m not interested in.

  This guy, though? He leaves me on edge. Worse, he makes me curious, and I don’t quite understand why. Maybe it’s the intense way he’s watching me right now. Smoking is gross. I’ve never understood the appeal, but I’m kind of attracted to the way he keeps putting that cigarette in his mouth, his lips pursed the slightest bit before he pulls it away and exhales.

  It’s—oh God, I can’t believe I’m thinking this—sexy.

  “Why do you smoke anyway?” I ask, sounding annoyed. I clear my throat, hoping he didn’t notice.

  “I only do it when I’m stressed,” he answers.

  I’m frowning. “You’re stressed out right now?”

  “Fuck yeah I am.” He grimaces. Scrubs a hand along his jaw. “Sorry. It’s a lot, having to deal with my dad and his new family and being at this stupid party or whatever the hell you want to call it. Wearing a Gucci suit and acting like a man for my father’s sake, when I feel like a kid playing dress up.”

  Aw. This is an incredibly honest moment we’re sharing, and that was such a vulnerable thing to admit. Unable to stop myself, I go to the chair next to his and sit on the edge of the cushion, turning my body toward his.

  “Would it make you feel any better if I told you that you look good in the Gucci suit?” I ask him, my voice light. A little flirty.

  I’m trying to shift the mood. We don’t need to get serious right now. I don’t do serious. Not really. Serious means something, and right now I’m looking for…

  Nothing. Just a little fun.

  He smooths his long fingers along the jacket’s lapel, and I get the sudden image of him trailing those fingers on my skin. “I guess the Gucci suit paid off then.”

  I laugh. He chuckles.

  We stare.

  And it doesn’t even feel uncomfortable. Not one freakin’ bit.

  “I’m not supposed to like you,” I admit softly.

  “Back at you.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he faintly smiles, and I exhale softly at his confession.

  “But I do,” I whisper.

  He slowly leans forward, stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table in front of us. I didn’t even notice it, I’m so hyperfocused on him. He’s so close, he could touch my thigh. My hip.

  Tony Sorrento could touch me wherever he wanted to.

  “Want to get out of here?” he asks, his gravelly low voice twisting me up inside.

  I’m startled by his question. “And go where?”

  “I don’t know. Did you drive your car?”

  I slowly shake my head.

  “Me either.” His expression is pure frustration.

  “We can get an Uber,” I suggest.

  His lips curl into this beautiful smile that takes my breath away. “I like the way you think.”

  “Your father won’t be mad if you leave early?” I ask.

  “Like I care. He hasn’t seen me for years. He has no room to talk,” Tony says, his voice filled with disdain.

  I can’t blame him for feeling that way. It must hurt, not having his father around, though I can also relate since I rarely see my mother anymore. Why do wealthy, busy parents think it’s okay to buy our love with materialistic things, and believe that’s going to be a good enough replacement for them?

  It’s not. I don’t refuse my father’s gifts, but sometimes, I wish he would just show up. Especially when I was younger. I played volleyball in high school too, though I was never as good as Palmer, and I begged for him to come to my games. Just one during the season, that’s all I wanted. So many dedicated parents came to every single game, cheering their children on, forming a bond that was cool to see. One I appreciated more than any of the other girls on my team because, to them, their parents just showed up. To them, their parents becoming friends with the other parents was normal.

  For me? I was lucky my dad showed up to two games the entirety of my high school career. Two out of what felt like a billion. That’s it. And he spent the majority of the time during both games on his phone and rarely watched me play.

  Once I graduated, it felt like a breath of fresh air, getting away from my father. Distance helped the resentment I was feeling toward him lessen.

  Earlier this afternoon, though, it all came back. I know the real reason he wanted me to go to this dinner. To show me off. To pair me up with someone. As if I’m for sale.

  “Will your father be mad if you bailed out?” Tony asks.

  I slowly shake my head, though I’m really not so sure. “He’ll understand.”

  If he knew I was about to hop into an Uber with Tony Sorrento, son of his supposed mortal enemy, he wouldn’t understand whatsoever. He’d be freaking livid.

  Guess that’s the chance I’m going to have to take.

  Five

  Tony

  We’re in the back s
eat of a black Mercedes SUV. Bougie Hayden wouldn’t settle for less, despite me saying we’d get to where we wanted to go whether we were in the back of a Prius or a Mercedes. We didn’t need an Uber X.

  She claimed it made her feel safe, so I went along with her decision. Besides, I’m not the one paying, not that money matters. Not to me. I don’t think it matters much to Hayden either.

  Two rich kids not really giving a shit about anything, that’s who we are.

  I have to admit though, this car is sleek as fuck. The driver barely looks at us and murmurs only a couple of words to Hayden when she speaks with him after he arrives at the front of the country club where we’re waiting for him. When we slip into the vehicle, we sink into soft, comfortable leather seats. Chilled bottles of water sit in the center console between us, and there are even a couple of chocolate mints left for us as well.

  “Nice,” I say to Hayden when the car pulls away from the curb, the engine purring.

  She smiles at me and grabs the bottle of water closest to her, undoing the top and taking a sip. I watch her, entranced with the elegant length of her neck as she tips her head back, the string of stars that lies at the base of her throat. Her skin is smooth, all the way down to the center of the V-neckline of her dress, and I wonder if she has a bra on.

  I’m going to guess no.

  “I’m not usually so impulsive,” Hayden says, swiveling her head in my direction. I meet her gaze, see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. “This is a total moment for me.”

  Not sure if I believe her. She seems like the impulsive type. Up for anything. “You going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

  A smile spreads across her face as she slowly shakes her head. “No. It’s a surprise.”

  “I don’t really like surprises.” The ones I’ve dealt with through most of my life have all been bad news.

  “You’ll like this one. Promise.”

  We make our way out of the city, taking the Bay Bridge over into Oakland, but I don’t say anything about it. I’m just along for the ride, though my curiosity grows. We make small talk, chatting about everything and nothing, and when we go silent, we both stare out our windows. The silence doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable though, especially since we don’t know each other very well. I sneak glances at her when I can, amazed at how pretty she is. Amazed that she chose to leave with me, when she doesn’t even know me.