Exception (Cambria University Series Book 1)

by Sadie T. Williams

  Connor slides back into the chair next to me and startles me from my depressing thoughts. “You sure you don’t want that ride?”

  “I actually do,” I reply. I just really want to get out of here. My stupid brain and my broken heart are working overtime. “I need to tell my friends first if that’s cool.”

  “No worries, I’ll wait here.” He smiles at me.

  I make my way through the maze of bodies on the dance floor to my friends. The smell of bodies sweating out alcohol fills my nostrils. It’s disgusting, and it reminds me even more how I miss snuggling on the couch with Brooks. Just being together, watching a movie, eating popcorn. Simple. Together. Us. I reach my friends, who are still obnoxiously grinding on Connor’s friends. “I’m leaving!” I shout over the music. My pity party for one is an all-time rager right now.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Blaire shouts and twirls her index finger in the air to motion we’re leaving. They all nod.

  “No, you guys can stay. I’m no fun and this is making me more depressed.” I really want to be alone. I want to wallow in my own misery and feel sorry for myself, for what I did to my own stupid heart.

  “No, KK, we’ll all go.” She frowns at me. “I thought this would help. I’m sorry.”

  “It did help, for a while,” I lied. “This isn’t your fault and really stay. Dance. Grind. Enjoy yourself. I really just want to be alone.”

  “You sure?” Watts shouts as Duncan gives me a pouty lip.

  I nod. I know they don’t want to leave, so I blow them all a kiss goodbye. They do the same and I return to find Connor still at the table.

  “Okay, we’re good. Are you sure your boys won’t mind?”

  “Nah, I’ll come back for them. It’s only 1:30. They have a couple more hours in them anyway.”

  We walk out into the frigid January air and I shiver. Connor takes off his sweater and hands it to me.

  “Thank you,” I reply as I slip it on over my head. It smells like cedar and body odor. Not offensive, but enough to pierce my senses. It smells nothing like Brooks and his manliness. The smell that made me tingle in places you don’t talk about in public. “It’s too cold in this damn state,” I say in an attempt to distract myself.

  “That’s me.” He motions to a red Chevrolet Camaro.

  “Nice ride.” I smile in an effort to be nice and not the grumpy ass I was all night.

  “Thanks. I worked really hard to afford this when I was younger.” He smiles proudly. “Where to?” he asks as we climb in.

  “Are you familiar with the campus?”

  He nods.

  “I live in the Franklin Apartments, across from the Montgomery House.”

  “I know where that is. We partied with some basketball players there one night last year.”

  It’s pretty quiet on the drive, but I learn that Connor is the son of a mechanic. He graduated from high school in Boston and went straight to work for his dad. He’ll run the shop one day. He has seven siblings – he’s the oldest and the youngest is three.

  “This is me,” I say as we pull up to Building Two.

  Connor hops out of the car and walks around to open my door. I’m getting nervous that he thinks this is going somewhere. I’m in no state mentally or physically for anything. I do appreciate his kindness, but he will never fill what has been emptied.

  “It was nice to meet you, Kiernan,” he says as I climb out.

  “You too, Connor, thanks for the ride.” I slip his sweater off over my head.

  “Um,” he pauses as I hand it to him. Shit. “Can I give you a kiss goodnight?”

  I pause. I thought about this moment, but I didn’t expect him to ask so bluntly. I don’t want to, but he was very sweet. Not that I owe him anything for just driving me home. Then the idea hits me. Maybe I should, just to see if that fire ignites inside of me like it did with Brooks. Maybe this will be a good test. Connor is sweet. Nice. Normal. He isn’t a god among men. He’s your average nice guy. I’m not the type of person who goes around kissing people though. My mind is talking itself in circles.

  “Or not, that’s okay.” He looks down at the ground. It took me too long to respond. “I just thought I’d ask.”

  Fuck it.

  I grab his face in my hands and his eyes spring up to meet mine. I’m going to fucking get over Brooks. I am going to. I have to.

  I press my lips to his and they are a little rougher than Brooks’ lips, but warm. He parts his lips and I slide my tongue inside his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes, beer, and Juicy Fruit gum mixed together. We swirl our tongues around for a few seconds and then I break our lip lock.

  Zero fire. Damn it.

  “Goodnight, Kiernan.” He smiles. “I hope to see you again.”

  “Same,” I lie. “Goodnight, Connor.” I make a run for my apartment. I’m running from the cold and guilt that has built up inside me.

  Brooks and I aren’t together and yet I feel like I did something wrong. I’m stone cold sober now, and feeling like complete shit. I send Blaire a text.

  “You guys coming home?”

  “OTW”

  I curl up on the couch, cover myself with my Patriots fleece blanket and wait for my roommates. Tears are streaming down my face. I need to tell someone what I did and I need them to make me feel better about myself. I need validation that I’m not a slut and that what I did was okay under these circumstances.

  They burst in the door laughing about something that is apparently hilarious. I wipe the tears from my face.

  One of the minions is following Duncan in like a puppy. He’s considerably shorter than she is, just her type. She likes to be dominant. She grabs his hand and they disappear down the hallway to her bedroom, stumbling and laughing as they go.

  “Well that didn’t take long.” I wink at Blaire in an effort to appear okay.

  “Oh God, Mason was all over her ass, and she’s in love now,” Blaire giggles.

  “I’m gonna puke,” Watts says and runs down the hallway to the bathroom.

  “And then there were two.” I force a laugh.

  “Are you good, KK?” she asks. She’s staring at me now. Really staring. She’s inspecting my red-rimmed eyes and knows I was crying before they came in.

  “Yeah, no, I don’t know,” I reply. I know my face is red and blotchy but the tears have dried.

  “You miss him, huh?” She asks the obvious question.

  “So much it hurts to breathe sometimes.”

  “I get it.” She rubs my legs. “Connor seemed nice.”

  “Yeah, he was very sweet.” I sigh and continue, “I kissed him, B.” I hide my face in my hands in shame.

  She laughs. “Why are you hiding?”

  “I feel guilty about it. I don’t know why. I’m single, but I don’t feel single. I still feel him with all my being.”

  “KK, it’s okay. It’s not like you slept with him or anything. Did it help?” she asks.

  “No. It didn’t fucking help. There was zero fire between us. Nothing. Not even a spark that could maybe become a fire. It just made me realize that this is never going to be okay. I am never going to be okay. He was my… my...”

  “Lobster,” she says, quoting Friends as she looks at me with pity in her eyes. “He was it.”

  “He really was.” And I start to cry again.

  Chapter 19: Brooks

  I can’t do shit. I’ve never had my heart broken before. It fucking sucks ass! My eyes have dark circles underneath from lack of sleep. I close my eyes and I see her, so I force myself to keep them open. I haven’t showered or shaved since, well, I’m not really sure when. I don’t even know what day it is. We’re still on break from school, so I don’t have to keep track. My hair is flat on my head. I haven’t taken my sweats off in weeks. The food stains on them are a nice touch to complete my post-Kiernan look.

  We have the national championship game coming up in two weeks, and I don’t give a fuck. I’ve been going through the motions in practice and I know my team
and coaches can see it. I’ve been drinking every night. I’m pretty sure I polished off all the Jack Daniels we have the house, except for the bottle in my hand. I want to be numb. I don’t give a shit about anything. My life. School. My team. My liver. Anything. This is why Rhett never wanted me to have a girlfriend. This.

  “Bro, let’s go,” Blake says and hits me on the shoulder. I can’t believe he’s willing to touch me. I’m disgusting. I know Blake has questionable hygiene due to the amount of pussy he eats, but I can smell myself. That’s how bad my stench is right now.

  “I told you fuckers I’m not going.” I scowl at him. The bottle of Jack is in my hand because, well, cups are too small. I’d funnel this shit, but we don’t have one.

  “Yes, you fucking are, asshole,” he retorts. “I’m sick of watching you moping your ass around this house and drinking yourself to death. I’m pretty sure I heard you crying the other day. What the fuck, man? I’m sorry. I really am. I really liked her too, bro. She was awesome, one of a kind even, but one chick isn’t worth this much.”

  “Have you forgotten what Bateman went through for Blaire? Kiernan is worth more. She was. I loved her, man.”

  “We know,” Rhodes acknowledges. “But you need to move on. We need our quarterback. We need Mac back. The cocky, lady slaying, football god who is going to lead us to the promised land. Not this sniveling bitch sitting on our couch.” He motions his hand toward me. I am a sniveling bitch. Ouch.

  “That was well said, Rhodesy,” I deadpan. “Thanks.” I lift the bottle in a cheers motion and slam another gulp down.

  “For real, bro, we love you. You know that. So get up. Get your swagger back. Get your balls back for fuck’s sake. This is fucking pathetic. You can be balls deep in a sorority sister by midnight. You’re Brooks fucking McCarthy. Start acting like it. Now get the fuck up and wash your sac,” Rhodes continues.

  Something that he says clicks. Not the balls deep part, but the “get my balls” back part. Why am I doing this? She broke up with me, and I’m torn up, but I am Brooks fucking McCarthy. I was king of this school before Kiernan ruined me. Before she loved me. Before she broke me. Fuck, she did love me. And I loved her. Past tense, bro. LOVED. Not current. I’ve been working for a national title since I was three. To be in the NFL. I’m going to get my swagger back. Fuck this.

  “Fuck it. You’re right.” I pop up off the couch. I’m tipsy and I smell like the ass end of a horse, but I’m fucking getting my shit back tonight. Good pep talk, I tell myself.

  “I am?” Rhodes sounds surprised. He glances over at Blake with a little fear in his eyes. He isn’t sure what I’m going to do next.

  “Fuck. I need to get my shit together. It's been too long. She’s clearly over me, right? I need to move on.”

  Twenty minutes later, I’m out the door. Tight t-shirt, skinny jeans, and Cole Haan city boots. Hair is messed up intentionally and since I haven’t had the energy to shave, I’m scruffy.

  We arrive at Pi Kappa around 11:30 and it’s packed. The music is pumping and the vibe feels good. I feel like my old self, just with a hole where my heart used to be. I plaster a fake-ass smile on my face and walk to the door.

  I haven’t even seen Kiernan in two weeks. She hasn’t contacted me, and she’s ignored every text message I’ve sent her. I don’t even know if she’s thought about me. Bateman won’t ask Blaire, because he wants me to get over her and he thinks this is his way of helping me do that. I’m torn on whether or not I hope she’ll be here. Part of me wants to see her. To rub it in her face that I’m completely fine – total lie. But she doesn’t need to know that. I want her to watch me work the room like we were never a thing. That my whole world didn’t implode when she left me. Again, total lie. She probably won’t be here though, because she knows I will be.

  We enter the house to chants and cheers like always. It feels good. My body feels alive again after two weeks of hell.

  “Beer!” I shout. I’m already tipsy from the Jack Daniels I drank at home, but this is why we drink right? To forget. To forget the pain, forget the names, forget the past. We drink for tonight. We don’t drink for tomorrow. Tomorrow can suck my nuts. I’m living in the moment from now on.

  We head to the kitchen, where there are shots lined up for us. “Thought you boys would need these.” Decker smiles at me. Everyone heard what happened after the bowl game. I should be embarrassed. Brooks McCarthy got dumped. If it were anyone except Kiernan, I would think she did it as a status symbol. The only person to ever dump me. But that isn’t her. She didn’t do it for popularity or to score dates with other dudes. I wish I knew why though. I still don’t have answers.

  For the last two weeks my phone and DMs have been blowing up with messages from girls who want to help me get over Kiernan. I haven’t acted on any of them because I think my dick is broken-hearted too. But not anymore. Normally, I’d control myself. I usually don’t get wasted, but these last few weeks I have been self-medicating. Dr. McCarthy at your service. I wrote myself a prescription for Jack Daniels, pussy, and an ego stroke tonight.

  “Fill ‘em up, Decker!” We go round after round. We cheers to whatever the fuck makes us drink. “Football!” Drink. “High heels!” Drink. “Football!” Drink. “My balls are back!” Drink. I don’t even care. I’m fucking hammered. I thought it would help dull the pain, but the more I drink, the more Kiernan’s face keeps creeps into my mind. Every time I close my eyes to drink my shot, I see her face like it’s painted on the inside of my eyelids.

  “We got our boy back!” Rhodes shouts. “WOO!” He throws back another one. Apparently I’m fooling everyone on the outside. Kudos to me.

  “I gotta piss,” I slur. The line is always too long in the downstairs bathroom and it’s too fucking cold to pee outside, so I stumble upstairs. I don’t even know how many shots I’ve had. Too many. Practice tomorrow is going to be fucking brutal. I look down the hallway to the door I kicked in. It’s been fixed. Anger seethes inside of me and I punch the wall.

  “Why so pissed off, honey?” Kiernan? Nope, just a random sorority chick with fuck-me eyes and, I would guess, a bare pussy.

  “Long fucking story,” I reply while I wander off down the hall to the bathroom.

  “I heard. You know, you can get over her by getting under me,” she purrs. She strokes her white French-manicured fingers over my scruffy beard. “This is new. Sexy. Rugged.”

  I freeze. This feels so wrong, even in my drunken state. Her hands are wrong. Her clothes are wrong. Even her fucking face is wrong.

  “Bathroom?” she asks and I pause. Why the fuck not? I haven’t fucked anyone in a long time and I deserve this. Right? It’s not love, its sex. No strings attached sex. Just like before. Meaningless fucking. No love. Never again. Man up, you sniveling bitch.

  “Whatever you want, sweet cheeks,” I flash her my dimples and smack her ass. I’m pretty sure she just came right in this hallway.

  As we get into the bathroom, Miss Sorority peels off her skin-tight dress. No bra, black lace thong. Far cry from the cotton panties I’ve grown to love. Push the thoughts away, Mac. She doesn’t want you. Sorority chick is hot. Blond hair, blue eyes, tight body and small, perky tits. I should be into this. Normally, Little Mac would be wide awake, but he couldn’t give a shit either. I want to fucking scream.

  “What’s your name?” I ask instead as she drops to her knees and unbuttons my pants. She pulls Little Mac out and starts sucking.

  “Bailey,” she mumbles with my dick in her mouth. Classy.

  “Proceed, sweet cheeks,” I say and close my eyes, leaning back against the sink. I envision Kiernan with her lips around Little Mac. Bethany, or whatever her name is, begins working on my cock. Head bobbing up and down while she jers me off simultaneously. Little Mac perks up at the contact, but I feel nothing. No heat. No passion. No tingling.

  She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how long we’ve been doing this, and Brenda keeps working my cock in and out of her mouth. He
r blond head is bobbing away, but she’s starting to get pissed. “Are you going to come or not?” she whines.

  “Probably not like this,” I say as I push her off my dick. She falls back and bumps her ass on the cold tile. Little Mac is standing tall. I look down and his one eye is looking back at me like never gonna happen, asshole. Put me back in your pants.

  “Ow,” she grimaces. “I was told you’re the best fucking lay at this school. Your cock didn’t disappoint, but what the fuck? You’re not going to fuck me now?”

  Jesus, did I really enjoy this before Kiernan?

  “No, I’m not. You’re not my type. Thanks for your half-assed blow job, Bridget.” I leave the bathroom.

  “It’s fucking Bailey!!!” she screams after me, holding her dress over her half-naked body. It doesn’t matter what her name is. This was doomed from the start.

  Some of the people in the hallway waiting for the bathroom giggle as I walk by. They can assume what they want. I flash a smile, pretending to be okay with whatever just happened in that bathroom. Pretending to be over Kiernan and back to the same panty-slaying Mac I was before she broke me.

  I’m more fucking depressed now than when I was planted on my couch. There’s nothing without her. No past, no present, no future. Just emptiness and nothing. I need more shots.

  Chapter 20: Kiernan

  It’s cold as a witch’s tit in Massachusetts. The wind is cutting through my jacket and blowing the light snow around in swirling little tornados. I’m wearing my black softball joggers, a thick hooded sweatshirt, and my black Columbia snow boots. I’m still freezing. I’ve lived in New England my whole life and still hate the winters here.

  I’m walking through the Quad to Sampson for my first social psych class. Ironically, I’ll be studying the effects of social pressure on attitude and behavior, among other things. Speaking of giving in to mental fuckery and peer pressure… Nailed it. Fucking Rhett. I also get to take a coaching class, which will be awesome, so at least I have something to look forward to. Plus, with Brooks being a marketing/finance major, I shouldn’t run into him anymore. That thought makes my heart hurt, but I also feel relieved because I don’t think I can see him and survive.