by Mj Hendrix
As his lecture wraps up, I pack up my notebook and pens. Most of the students have laptops, but I can’t afford one yet. My goal is to make enough at the bar for a refurbished one. I’m eternally grateful for the rich scums who deposit theirs every time a new model is released.
I finally make my way out of the row, one of the last ones. I see ahead of me someone tossing a throwaway cup toward the trash can at the door and missing. The jerk just keeps walking.
A tall, broad-shouldered guy with buzzed sandy-blond hair a few people in front of me bends over and picks it up. It draws my attention, and I notice he’s wearing a green plaid shirt, worn-out jeans, and boots. His clothes don’t stand out too much, considering this is Texas, but the jeans look like they are actually worn, not bought brand-new with holes pre-scratched into them. It reminds me of the modern-day Little House on the Prairie family I saw on the campus tour yesterday.
I head to my next class.
I survive until lunch on just the coffee, but by the time twelve thirty rolls around, I’m starving. It’s a feeling I’m accustomed to but don’t enjoy.
Once I’m inside the cafeteria, spotting the head of my roommate is easy. She stands out like a buoy.
I get in line for a salad and see that Plaid Shirt is a few people behind me. He’s nailed down that sexy Southern-boy vibe, broad shoulders and head held high. The short buzz cut works for him, revealing his immaculate bone structure.
I realize he’s looking at me, but when I meet his gaze, he rips his stare away and tinges a deep pink. I smirk and turn back around to make my salad.
Why is he so embarrassed? I know I stand out. Not many college freshmen have as many tattoos as I do, especially in Texas. I used to be bothered by it, but the continual stares are just par for the course at this point.
“Harley! Over here!” My roommate is about as outspoken and attention-seeking as they come.
I march toward her, drop my tray, then head for the drink station.
“Hey, grab me a sweet tea, please!”
I roll my eyes. Could she be any more predictable?
I get her sweet tea and my Fanta, returning to the table. I sit and toss my salad, taking a bite of the brownie I picked up for my appetizer.
“Thanks, babe. This is Raelynn, Maya, and Riley.” My roommate makes the introductions.
I glance up and nod a hello at the group of girls.
Giant eyes and agape mouths greet me.
The redhead recovers quickly and speaks first. “Wow, I am obsessed with your look. You’re like the hot, scary Barbie. I bet guys go nuts over your vibe.”
She isn’t wrong.
“Thanks,” is all I say. I shove a forkful of lettuce into my mouth to avoid having to talk to them.
The dark blonde pipes up next, “Why do you have so many tattoos? I mean, do your parents not care?”
I think this one’s name is Raelynn. She’s nervous to be asking me this, but apparently, she doesn’t care if she offends me.
I shrug and finish chewing before answering, “They don’t give a shit.”
Her eyes widen, and she looks over at my roommate, who just laughs.
“Isn’t she the best? I wish I had her attitude.” She stops abruptly and gasps. “Oh my gosh. It’s that guy. Look toward the drink station,” she excitedly instructs us.
“The one from your Chem class?” asks the bitchy redhead.
“Yes! Ugh, hot nerds just do it for me every single time. I don’t know what it is…maybe the Clark Kent-ness of it. He’s so built but so shy, and I just love it.”
We all turn our heads.
“Oh my gosh, not all at once!” she nearly shouts.
Half the cafeteria looks over at us, and the four of them dip their heads into a fit of giggles. I attempt not to roll my eyes but fail.
“I get it—a hot nerd is leagues above a man-slut,” I say.
“Yes! I don’t get why people think it’s so attractive for a guy to have slept with half the state, but of course, if a girl did it, they would all vomit. Double standards suck,” Blondie takes a sip of sweet tea and nibbles on a baby carrot.
“Think about how awkward it would be if he kissed you though. He wouldn’t know what to do,” Redhead interjects. “Bleh.”
I look up at the “hot nerd” in question. He is a Clark Kent doppelgänger. He has dark hair with a slight curl, thick-framed glasses, and a build as brawny as the plaid-shirt guy from my Horticulture class. His blue T-shirt has a faded 4H stamped on it. He’s walking toward his table, and I see that he’s actually sitting with the guy I noticed from my class.
What are the odds of that?
There’s four of them together, not talking, but observing the students moving around them. Plaid-shirt guy looks like he might have a twin. The twin is wearing the exact same shirt in red but has slightly darker blond hair.
“Oh my gosh, there’s an entire group of them. Is that your wet dream come true, Kenna? You could be the center of a sexy-nerd sandwich!” Maya, the redhead, jokes.
I’ve finally picked up her name. My roommate, Kenna, nods her head vigorously as the others laugh, and I attempt to not roll my eyes again. I peer up at their table, and once again, I see Green Plaid Shirt looking at me. He jerks his gaze away with a blush.
4
Adam
Never in my life have I seen so much female skin. It’s a little overwhelming, making my skin heat. My reaction is embarrassing, but keeping my eyes averted is a constant battle within myself. I had no idea worldly girls dressed like this, but I understand now why my dad enforces such strict modesty rules on my sisters. This is more distracting than a bleating goat giving birth to twin kids.
The four of us have split up, and Levi and I are walking to the library to spend our two-hour break. He glances up from his staring contest with the sidewalk. There are three girls walking in front of us. They look like the beginning of one of the jokes an old man from our church back home always tells—because it’s a blonde, a redhead, and a brunette. The dark-haired girl is the one my mother gasped at on our first day during the tour. She even has tattoos on the back of her thighs, near the bottom of her shorts.
As we reach the library, Levi leans toward me and whispers, “It’s the girls from Gerald’s jokes.”
I burst out laughing at his observation since it’s exactly what I was thinking. The curly blonde one turns around to look at us, and I immediately break off my laughter. She smiles and turns fully around.
“Are you boys here to study too?” Her accent sounds Texan.
She’s stunning with big emerald eyes offsetting her bright, bouncy hair. In the sun, it actually looks a little red.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Levi cannot speak to this gorgeous female stranger, so I answer, “Yeah, we have a two-hour break.”
She perks up. “Perfect! I’ll get us into a study group room. We need at least four people to qualify, so this is great.” She steps up to the desk. “Hi, we need a study room to work on our group project.”
Did she just lie?
The clerk looks up at us, then hands her a key, and shoves a clipboard across the desk. The girl signs her name and leads the way.
The room has a rectangular table with six cushioned chairs, three on each side. I sit in one corner, and the redhead sits beside me. The brunette takes the chair beside her. Levi sits across from me, and I can see the anxiety etched onto his face as the pretty blonde one sits down next to him instead of leaving an open chair between them. I know my introverted friend is going to need me to introduce him, and my momma raised me to be polite to strangers.
I turn to the redhead. “Hi, I’m Adam.”
I extend my hand. She looks down and grabs it.
“Maya.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The girl with all the tattoos is digging through her bag on the floor, so I look at the blonde next, reaching my hand out as I stand.
“Adam. What’s your name?”
She smiles wide an
d shakes my hand. “I’m Kenna! So nice to meet you, Adam.”
She sits down and looks at Levi. He avoids her gaze and starts unpacking his notebook with shaky hands.
She hesitates for a minute but then extends her hand in view of his downturned face. He swallows and looks up, finally grasping her outstretched hand a second too late.
“I’m Kenna. What’s your name?” she asks him sweetly.
Levi is the most socially awkward out of the four of us. He’s an only child and uncommonly intelligent. His parents isolated him to study for up to ten hours a day.
“Levi,” he responds quietly. He looks at her face for a split second before returning to his book, cheeks stained.
I have no doubt that he’s never spoken to a girl he wasn’t raised with. His only friends besides me and the guys are his books.
I turn back to the other girl. She’s looking down at her notes.
I clear my throat. “Hey, I’m Adam.”
She lifts her head up. Pale blue eyes that remind me of the color of the gas flame pouring from a burner meet my gaze. Her deep ruby-red lips are overly plump. I remember my mother telling me that red lipstick is for “women of the night.” I hope she’s not one of those because she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ve been unable to stop staring at her since she sat in front of me in my first class of the day.
She’s the first woman I’ve seen with tattoos. I know it’s sinful to mark your body up, but I still wish I could touch her skin and see what it feels like with all that ink.
“Harley.” Her voice is unexpectedly raspy.
I have to take a breath when I realize I like the sound of it—a lot. To avoid looking like a total starstruck moron, I get out my notebook for horticulture. I notice she’s using the one she had in class.
“I’ve never heard that name before. Do you know where it comes from?” I ask her, the words barely making it past the lump of nerves.
She keeps her eyes on the notebook as she replies, “Yeah, my birth mom said I was conceived on a Harley-Davidson behind a 7-Eleven.”
I try to control my outward reaction at her admission, remaining completely still, even as my neck heats. This is the first time I’ve ever heard someone reference fornication so casually. Is she being serious? Parents don’t name their kids after motorcycles, do they?
Laughter breaks out between us as I see Maya, the redhead, with her head thrown back in hysterics. After about thirty seconds, she regains composure.
“Wow, you’re a trip, Scary Barbie,” she says.
I feel like she’s being mean, but I’m not sure since I thought they were friends.
Kenna speaks up from across the table, “I think it’s beautiful, and it really suits you.” Her voice is kind and reassuring. “I bet your mom just made that up as a joke. What did your dad say?”
Harley looks up at her and smiles. “Nah, she was serious. My birth dad was just a random trucker.”
The entire room is buried in silence. I’m speechless. I’ve never met someone with a past like this. There’s a sick feeling in my gut when I look at her face and realize she isn’t making this up. What kind of a life did that create for her?
Levi is staring a hole into his chemistry book. I doubt he even needs to look at it. He’s been flipping through and memorizing the pages since he got it on the first day. He has a photographic memory with a brain function in line with the smartest minds in the world.
I look back over at her. “I’m sorry you never got to meet your dad,” I say softly.
Her eyes snap to mine, darker than before. “Why? He was a piece of shit. I’m glad I never met him. He’s just one less miserable creep I’ve had to deal with.” She snaps the notebook closed. “Kenna, didn’t you say there was a freshman party going on, on Friday?”
Kenna perks up, and I get the feeling Harley is changing the subject due to her own discomfort.
“Yes, girl! We are going too. It’s a beach party. I have the cutest bikini for it.” She looks at me and Levi, grinning. “You guys have to come with us! It’s at the Kappa Betas’ house. I’m rushing, but my cousin Lexi is a member, so she said I’m a sure thing,” she animatedly tells us.
“Ugh, you are so lucky. You have to swear to put a good word in for me. I will not rush for any, except for the Kappa Betas or the Alpha Phis. I refuse to be a part of any others,” Maya whines with a pouting face.
I have no earthly idea what they are discussing. It sounds like some kind of club. I’ve never heard of a bikini, but since she said “beach party,” I’m assuming it’s a bathing suit. My sisters always wear T-shirts and long shorts when we swim in the tank on our farm. I’m betting a filthy, cow-manure-filled water hole in the ground isn’t the location of this college party.
I look at Levi, whose head is still downturned, but his cheeks have reddened.
Kenna looks back up at dark-haired Harley and says, “Please tell me you are going! I need you there. They will totally dig your look. I need to be the girl with the badass, tattooed friend. The guys are going to swarm you, for sure. You should wear a red bikini—that’s your best color.” Her eyes are on Harley, begging.
I look over at Harley, who shrugs and says, “I guess. I don’t have work.”
Kenna claps her hands and excitedly looks at me and Levi.
“You guys have to come. I swear they’ll go crazy over y’all too,” Kenna insists.
“I, uh, if it’s a beach party, I didn’t pack a swimsuit.” I don’t want to admit that I don’t own one. We always just swam in shorts.
“You came to a university in Texas without swim trunks?” Maya looks doubtfully at me.
“I just didn’t think there would be a tank anywhere around…on campus.”
I know I sound like a stupid hick. I feel like not owning swim trunks would be worse for some reason.
Kenna giggles, “Well, the good news is, you’re a guy. Just wear your jeans without a shirt.”
I can’t imagine wearing that to a party, but I nod in agreement. I glance at Harley and notice she’s got pink cheeks.
5
Harley
On Friday evening, my phone dings as a text comes in.
Unknown: baby come back, let me fix it. it’ll be different this time
I immediately block the number with shaky hands. How did he get my new one? I take several calming breaths as Kenna walks into the room. I will not panic. He still doesn’t know where I am. Does he?
“Here it is, Har. Wear this body necklace too.”
She tosses a tiny crimson bikini at me. I see her lay the shimmery gold chain on my small desk. Since when did we become friends who lend clothes? I would protest verbally, but since her side of the closet is stuffed to the brim and mine is nearly empty, this can only benefit me.
She’s wearing a sexy leopard-print one-piece with triangle-shaped cups and high thigh-cut bottoms. Most of the sides are cut out.
“What happened to the bikini?” I question as I strip off my clothes. Usually, I’d rather lie in bed, watching Dexter, but for some reason, I feel like going tonight.
She’s braiding her hair up into two matching French braids down the back of her head.
“I, uh, well, since Levi is so shy, I thought, you know…maybe a little less skin would make him feel more comfortable, talking to me. It’s probably stupid,” she confesses.
I try not to let my face show my amusement. I tie up the side of my bottoms over my hip.
“I mean, yeah, maybe. I think he’s just really shy. You still look hot in that suit. Who cares what guys think, right?” I’m trying to console myself too.
Adam doesn’t seem like the type to want the girl in the tiny red bikini. Which I find strangely appealing, but I’m still wearing it. I don’t want him.
She’s studying herself in our full-length mirror on the back of our door. Our dorm is basic and small with all our stuff divided down the middle. She has her desk under her bunk. It’s all a total wreck of clothes and b
ooks. Mine is tidy and bare in comparison. I shop in clearance bins. All her stuff is designer.
“I don’t know…I guess you’re right. He either likes me or he doesn’t, right? I’m going to have fun regardless!” she says.
“That’s the spirit,” I say halfheartedly.
I’m applying more scarlet-red lipstick and touching up my face. I throw my long hair up into a full, messy bun on my head. The shimmery body chain goes over my head, and I turn to survey myself in the mirror.
“Damn. If you weren’t already my friend, I would despise you on sight. You look incredible! All those tattoos just work for you,” Kenna observes from behind me before she dips her head toward her mirror and applies some shimmer to her eyelid. “By the way, how do you have so many if you’re only eighteen? Did your parents sign off for you to get them younger?”
I freeze as I’m slipping into my high-tops. I dread this question.
“Yeah, my, uh, foster mom’s cousin had a tattoo shop.” I’m hoping that satisfies her curiosity. I was just starting to like her—before the twenty questions.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong; I really love how they look on you. It just seems like a lot to get in, like, a year, ya know? When’s your birthday?” Kenna sprays her head with hair spray.
Why is everyone so nosy?
“Yep. It was just my thing for a while. You ready?”
The sooner we leave this room and conversation, the better I will feel.
She looks over at me and grins. “We are so hot. I love being the yin-and-yang girls! You’re Bad Barbie, and I’m Classic.”
She grabs her matching wallet wristlet, and we move out the door. Several people do a double take at us on campus in our swimsuits. I realize we should have probably worn cover-ups, but it’s too late now. People gaping at me is my existence.
We arrive at the Kappa Betas’ party just as it’s getting dark. Scantily clad students are pouring into the large yellow house.