The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  I press my lips together so I don’t say anything rude. I really hate how he calls her a ball buster.

  “Being with a strong woman isn’t that bad,” I tell him, thinking of his mother. She’s a sweet, agreeable woman who has always been kind to her son’s friends. She would show up at every high school football game, screaming and encouraging us from the stands. Caleb makes her proud. I think we all kind of do.

  She’s nothing like my mother at all. Sometimes I wonder if the woman who gave birth to me even remembers my name.

  “I’d just rather take the easy way out. You’re the one who likes them complicated,” Caleb says, frowning. “Actually, you all do. Every one of you, with the exception of Jackson.”

  “Just because we’re interested in having a relationship with someone?” I ask.

  Shit. The word relationship just passed my lips. And I’m not supposed to be pursuing anything like that with Hayden. We’re keeping it simple. Just friends with benefits.

  “Yeah, who needs that?” He sips from his coffee. “There are so many women on this campus.”

  Since meeting Hayden, I haven’t noticed any of them. Not really.

  “Dude, you’re not even listening to me,” Caleb says irritably. “I bet I could bring a naked woman into the kitchen right now and you wouldn’t even notice.”

  I blink him back into focus. “Did you just say something about naked women?”

  Caleb snorts. “I’m guessing you’d only care if I brought a naked Hayden in the kitchen.”

  “You’re not allowed to see Hayden naked,” I say, immediately incensed at the mere idea.

  What the hell? Why am I thinking like this?

  “Bro, until you put that chick on lock, she is fair game.” He chortles when he spots the expression on my face. “Ooh, I just pissed you right off, didn’t I?”

  He’s harmless. Giving me shit, but it still riles me up. “I like her,” I admit.

  That’s all I say. What more is there to say? I do like her. A lot. More than I probably should.

  I told myself I wouldn’t fall hard and fast for a woman once I got into college. I agreed with Caleb and Jackson over the summer that we should keep ourselves single for as long as possible. We don’t need to attach ourselves to girlfriends. We’d miss out on opportunities. Hookups. Being adored by lots of girls versus just one.

  And here I go, meeting a woman only a few months into school, and now she’s the only one I can think about. The only one I want to think about.

  “You only just met her,” he reminds me. “What about our pact?”

  “Was it really a pact?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I thought it was. And I’m sticking to it. So is Jackson. You should too.” He points at me.

  “I’m happy where I’m at right now, thanks,” I say, thinking—yet again—of Hayden. Feeling smug.

  Hoping I get to see her again soon.

  “Jumping on the first girl you meet,” Caleb mutters under his breath. “Fuckin’ ridiculous.”

  “What did you just say?” I ask.

  “I don’t get you.” He sounds truly perplexed as he waves his arm around. “There are so many hot babes on this campus. And all of them are dying to get a look at your dick, especially after last night’s game. You shouldn’t limit yourself to just one so early in our college years. Find someone else. Better yet, find a couple of someone else’s. Make out with a few of them. Cop a couple of feels. Make a move, son. The bounty is out there.”

  He sounds ridiculous.

  “No thanks,” I tell him, his words reminding me of how I definitely made some moves last night.

  Not going to tell Caleb about it though. He’ll just want all the dirty details and I don’t feel like sharing them.

  “What happened last night at the party?” Caleb asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw you sitting in the living room surrounded by a bunch of hot girls watching you with lust in their eyes. Groupies?” Caleb nods, his eyes gleaming. Not giving me a chance to answer. “Good job.”

  “They were boring. And Jocelyn drove them all away.”

  Caleb frowns. “The hell? Why would she do that?”

  “We started talking and next thing I knew, they all bailed.” I shrug. Jocelyn’s little speech is what kicked me into gear and encouraged me to text Hayden, so go Jos.

  “You can’t let women you’re not with ruin your game play. That’s exactly what Jocelyn did. No offense against her, but Diego maybe needs to keep her closer,” Caleb says. “She cock-blocked your ass.”

  “You sound like a complete asshole. Next thing you’ll suggest is she needs to be on a leash.”

  “Not a bad idea. Seriously, stick with your man and don’t interfere with my night. That’s what I would’ve told her,” Caleb says.

  Here’s the deal. Caleb says terrible things. He thinks terrible things. But he says and does these things in such a way that it’s completely harmless. He needs a ball buster like Hayden to put him in his place.

  He just can’t have my ball buster.

  I shake my head. “You are something else.” I remember something. “Didn’t I just lay claim on Hayden to all you assholes a few days ago?”

  “I didn’t take you seriously,” he says. “I thought maybe you two were really just friends.”

  Yeah. Not any longer. “Well, as I just said, I like her.”

  “Whatever. Forget Jocelyn. Forget that Hayden chick. What happened after Jos drove the girls away? Tell me you chased one down and let her suck your dick.” He grins. “I know that’s what I did last night.”

  I’m sure he did. So did I. But again, not going to tell Caleb that. “No, I didn’t. You saw me with Hayden, remember?”

  “Oh.” He frowns. “Right. Last night was like a blur. I need to lay off the weed. It’s fuckin’ with my head.” He pauses for only a moment. “A lot of things are fuckin’ with it, if I’m being real right now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Caleb blows out an exaggerated breath. “I might’ve let a girl suck me off, but she didn’t finish. She got mad at me and left me high and dry,” he says irritably.

  “Groupies are like that,” I tell him.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. Groupies don’t get mad. They gladly suck your dick and sometimes they swallow too,” he explains, his expression serious.

  Suspicion fills me. “Who were you with last night?”

  “Nobody you know.”

  Caleb is a terrible liar. It’s written all over his face who he might’ve been with. And I think I know who it is.

  “Don’t tell me you were with Baylee.”

  Guilt washes over his features. Busted. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  He sighs. “Okay, yes. I was with Baylee. She showed up, and she looked hot as fuck. Even hotter? She kept ignoring my ass every time I tried to get her attention. She was flirting with one of my new frat brothers. A freshman like us, and a complete idiot. She was hanging all over that guy.”

  A sigh escapes me. We have been through this before. Caleb and Baylee were an on and off thing all throughout high school. Baylee was Cami Lockhart’s best friend our senior year, since Cami moves through best friends at a pretty fast clip, and we all hated that bitch. But we could tell that Baylee was miserable pretty much the entirety of senior year, being Cami’s sidekick. I don’t know why she put up with her.

  Don’t know why she puts up with Caleb either.

  “You can’t keep giving her false hope,” I tell him.

  “She tricked my ass,” Caleb says. “Once I got her away from that dude, she pulled me into the bathroom, locked the door and then got on her knees. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know, tell her to stop?” I suggest.

  “This girl…” He shakes his head, and he actually appears a little lost. “She’s been in my life for so long. She knows how to push all my buttons.”

  “She’s probably in love with you.�
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  “She’s stupid if she is. I’m going nowhere.”

  “Come on, Caleb.” He can also be a little dramatic at times.

  “No, it’s true. I peaked in high school, bro, and I know it. I will take advantage of all the babes at the frat parties, and I’ll do what I can to get through school, and maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll play on the football team, but overall? This is it for me. Once I graduate, I’ll find some boring ass job and I’ll end up marrying some boring ass woman and we’ll have a couple of boring ass kids. We’ll go on vacation once or twice a year. Maybe I’ll buy a travel trailer or some shit, I don’t know. Maybe we’ll go to the beach a lot. We’ll get a dog. The kids will love that fucker so much and when he dies, we’ll bury him in the back yard.” Caleb sighs. Scrubs his hand over his face again. “I basically described my parents. I’m still pretty fuckin’ upset that our dog Buddy died two years ago.”

  Is that what Caleb’s afraid of? That he thinks he’s destined for mediocrity?

  “You choose your own path,” I tell him. “You don’t have to end up like your parents.”

  “It’s not like I’ll mean to do it. It’ll just happen. This is why I’m so hell-bent on fucking every chick on this campus. Once I get married, I’ll be lucky to get it once a month. Then it’ll just be me, my hand and internet porn,” Caleb says morosely.

  At least he didn’t say he’d cheat. I think of my father. He’s a cheater. Mom was too, though she was a lot more discreet about it. Helena hit on me, and that is seriously messed up. No way would I cheat with my dad’s wife. That’s some sick and twisted shit.

  “You won’t end up like that,” I tell him. “It’s all a choice, Caleb. You can make your life however you want it to be.”

  I think of my life. My father’s plan. The words Helena said to me. How I better live it up now because soon I’ll be taking over and running my father’s empire.

  Just thinking of my future when it comes to my father’s business freaks me out. I don’t think I want that.

  But maybe Caleb’s right. I don’t have a choice.

  It’ll just…

  Happen.

  Fourteen

  Hayden

  I hang out in the quad in front of the library on purpose, hoping for a glimpse of Tony and his football friends. Does this make me a pathetic, wannabe groupie?

  Maybe.

  Do I care, since it’s not necessarily obvious that’s what I’m doing?

  Nope.

  At least Gracie is with me. We’re sitting at a bench table, our books spread out in front of us, enjoying the abnormally warm—well, maybe not so abnormal for around here—fall day. The sun is shining, and it’s intense. Thankfully, there’s also an occasional breeze, which brings relief.

  “You look good,” Gracie says.

  I glance up to find her watching me. “Thank you?”

  “Why do you say it like a question?”

  “You’re the one who helped pick out my outfit,” I remind her.

  High waisted jeans, white Nikes, tight-fitting black long-sleeved shirt that’s cropped, revealing a little sliver of belly. Delicate silver rings on my fingers, big silver hoops in my ears, my hair perfectly straight and parted in the middle like the Gen Z girl I am. It’s a look I’m liking a lot.

  Will Tony like it too? Not sure. Will I actually get to see him today?

  Also not sure. But I’m hopeful.

  So hopeful.

  “Yeah, and you look hot.” Gracie sighs. Shakes her head. She actually seems disappointed in me. “I don’t know why you can’t just text this dude and ask him to meet you somewhere. We’ve already been out here for over an hour.”

  “And hasn’t it been productive? We got a lot of homework done. Plus, I bought you Starbucks.” I point at her mostly empty cup.

  “I’d rather have Dutch Bros.” She mock pouts.

  “Sorry, my precious princess. Can’t have it all I guess.” I shrug, vaguely annoyed. Doesn’t she remember all the schemes I’ve helped her with to get the attention of a boy she was interested in? They have been numerous over the years.

  “Let’s get Dutch later.” Her eyes light up. Dutch Bros. is her favorite place to get coffee. She’s addicted. So am I. “And then we can grab Chipotle for dinner.”

  “We are so basic, it’s pathetic,” I tell her, only half-serious.

  “I revel in my basic bitchiness,” Gracie says with a grin.

  “I know you do. I do too. This is why we’re going to be basic girls right now and hope the boy eventually shows up.” I glance around the quad, of course not spotting a group of hotties anywhere. “I’ll give it another hour, tops.”

  “Oh God. No.” Gracie shakes her head. “Thirty minutes.”

  “Forty-five.”

  “Forty.”

  “Deal,” I tell her, laughing.

  “Seriously though. Why can’t you just call this guy? The game playing thing is more my strategy,” Gracie says.

  I love her brutal honesty.

  “I don’t want to seem too pushy,” I admit. It’s like I can’t explain why I’m doing this. It’s more fun for us to meet up on campus like a happy coincidence, am I right?

  Clearly, I’m being ridiculous.

  Gracie’s mouth pops open. “You’re worried you’ll seem too pushy? Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?” She reaches over the table to touch my face and I dodge out of her way at the last second.

  “Knock it off! What’s the big deal? So I don’t want to seem pushy, so what?” She’s making me feel weird.

  “You never worry about that sort of stuff. You just—do it. Consequences be damned. That’s my favorite trait about you. The one I always wished I could emulate. Now you’re emulating me and I’m worried.” Gracie frowns, her delicate brows drawn together.

  From the expression on her face, I’d guess Gracie is truly worried. Which is the last thing I want her to be.

  “This guy, he feels…different.” I bite my lip, wishing I hadn’t confessed that.

  “It’s because he’s eighteen. Younger men feel different.” She laughs.

  “I’m being serious.” Her laughter dies, and I continue, “He barely kisses me and I feel like I’m about to go up in flames.”

  “He did more than barely kiss you,” she reminds me.

  Yes, I told her a few things, but not everything. How hot it was in his car. How easily I came, and how much I wanted to satisfy him. I don’t know what came over me, but next thing I knew I had his dick in my mouth.

  And I’m not complaining. Not one bit. It was fun. It was exhilarating.

  I’ve been missing him ever since.

  “True,” I say and she sends me a look. Like I’m annoying her.

  I probably am.

  “What is it about him that makes him so special?” Gracie asks, sounding genuinely curious.

  “I can’t even put my finger on it.” I prop my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my fist. “He’s sweet. Quiet. Thoughtful. Extremely attractive.” He’s a great kisser. He has a big dick. He’s polite. Who knew polite would be such a turn on?

  Well, it is.

  “I can’t wait to see this guy.”

  “I call dibs,” I tell her teasingly.

  She shakes her head. “Come on. I wouldn’t steal a guy from you.”

  I sober up. “I know.” We respect each other’s boundaries. Even better? We have different taste in men, which makes it so much easier between us. We’re not drawn to the same guy.

  “I know and respect your usual anti-relationship stance, but maybe…maybe this guy could be good for you,” Gracie suggests softly.

  A sigh escapes me. “Maybe? I don’t know.”

  I’m being ridiculous. I sort of know—I totally think Tony could be good for me. He could make me forget my anti-relationship status, though that’s dangerous territory I’m wading into it. I need to keep my guard up. I’m sure his is still up too.

  Our parents really did a number on us.
/>   “Has he texted you?”

  I shake my head. “But it’s only Tuesday. And I’m sure he’s busy.”

  Gracie’s lips thin, but she says nothing. She doesn’t have to. If a guy’s interested, he texts. Often. This is a code she lives by. She’s met lots of guys who weren’t interested, aka, they didn’t text her very much. And she’s also met guys who’ve texted her constantly. Same with me. I’m not going to take Tony’s lack of texting as a bad sign.

  Yet.

  “He’s starting on the football team now. I’m sure practice is taking a lot out of him,” I add.

  “Stop making excuses for him, though I suppose you’re right.” Her expression turns thoughtful and she taps her lips with her index finger. “I’ve never gone out with a Bulldog football player before.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  “Right? Me too! I tend to be drawn to the more artistic types.” Her expression turns dreamy as I’m sure she thinks of her latest crush.

  His name is Robin. His parents named him for their favorite Bee Gee—no joke. I had to look up who the Bee Gees were when Gracie explained this fun fact. So did she, she admitted. Once I heard their music on Spotify, I knew who she was talking about.

  I always thought Robin was a girl’s name.

  But anyway, her Robin is in a band. His hair is dyed black and hangs in his face. He paints his nails black and rims his eyes with kohl liner. He looks straight out of an emo band, circa 2011. Gracie currently thinks he’s the hottest thing alive.

  “Are you seeing Robin tonight?”

  “Yes. I’m going to watch him perform.” Her expression lights up and she starts bouncing in her seat. “You should come with me.”

  “No. No way.” I shake my head. I’ve been to a few small concerts watching her latest musician crush, including one last week, and they’ve always been God awful. Bad music. Sloppy performance. Lots of pissed-off teenagers clamoring for these guys’ attention, wearing their best trashy outfits that they changed into the second Mom dropped them off at the front door.

  I might’ve done this type of thing myself a time or two when I was in high school. I know the drill.