Paper Stars Rewritten: Fallen Brook Series: Book 2

by Jennilynn Wyer

  “The T-shirt.”

  I burst out laughing. “How could I forget the T-shirt!”

  I can’t wait to get it made. I know exactly what I want the front of the shirt to say and I’m going to make sure it’s the gaudiest color of pink. And he’ll have to wear it all day on campus.

  Julien groans again. “Don’t remind me.” He buries his face on my damp shoulder so I pat the top of his head with a “poor baby.”

  “I never did ask but why didn’t Elijah come with us? Didn’t you say that you usually torture him every morning?”

  “He understands that I want to spend time with you.”

  I look at my fitness watch and notice the time. “We need to get back. Ryder and Jayson are meeting us for breakfast at seven.”

  Yes, that is another thing I reluctantly agreed to – having breakfast with them a few times a week. They told me it was one of the things we did our senior year. When Julien arrived to get me this morning for our run, he dropped off a bag at my place so he could shower there and not have to rush back home. It made sense since they were all coming over to my place for breakfast anyway.

  I reach over and tug his hand. “I think I’m going to need you to help me up. My legs don’t want to work.”

  Julien doesn’t even use his arms to lift himself up off the ground. In one lithe move, he stands up using only his legs. I gawk at his strength. He may be lean, but his leg muscles are impressive. He bends down and lifts me like I weigh no more than a feather. My laughter dies suddenly when I’m standing and we are face to face, his silver eyes smoldering with an emotion I don’t recognize. Julien touches my face, taking his time to gently pick away individual strands of hair that are stuck to my cheek with sweat. He loops them behind my ears.

  “Julien?” One slow second passes. Two. Three. Then the spell is broken.

  “Come on,” he tells me as he takes my hand and laces our fingers. We walk hand-in-hand together back to my apartment. It’s about half-past six and a halo of sunlight spears the horizon as dawn breaks.

  “Think I can convince you to come running with me again?”

  “Do I get more rewards?”

  “That can be negotiated. I’ll have to take bad karaoke off the table for our next run.”

  I feign shock at his words. “What? But you have such a lovely singing voice.” He really doesn’t, but I had such a great time doing our duet together at Belly’s. “Did I use to do that a lot?”

  Our linked hands are swinging between us like we’re two four-year-old best friends skipping down the sidewalk. “Yeah. You used to sing and play for us all the time. You were phenomenal. Truly talented. Your dad —” He stops abruptly. “Shit, Liz. I’m sorry.”

  We’ve avoided all conversation of my parents and sister so far. It’s like a silent agreement between all four of us that we steer clear of that topic of conversation. I know it bothers them more than it does me because I don’t remember my family at all. They do, however.

  “Julien, it’s fine. I’m fine. You can say whatever you want to say.” He side-eyes me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m telling him the truth.

  Hesitantly, he begins again. “Your dad taught you how to play. The guitar, the piano, the drums. He was really good himself. Always traveling with his band to do shows. You took after him – his talent, I mean, not the traveling part.”

  “That was one thing I was bewildered about with the amnesia. I couldn’t figure out how I knew how to play so many different musical instruments but not remember how I learned to do so, or who taught me. Perhaps I should reconsider my plans to go into oncology and switch to neurology instead. The brain is a complex, mysterious thing.”

  Now it’s his turn to look shocked. “That’s what you want to do? Go into medicine? Like medical school and residency?”

  “What? Why the weird look? Was I a slacker or something in school?”

  According to the high school transcript Daniel and Drew were sent, I had all A’s and took mostly AP courses and did community college over the summer.

  “No, it’s not…just, well, wow, Liz. I had no idea you were interested in that. Honestly, that’s really awesome. You would make a fantastic doctor. I’m actually planning on doing sports medicine. I can’t believe I haven’t asked you what courses you’ll be taking this year. We may be in one or two together since both require about the same general electives.”

  “I don’t have any AP credits unfortunately, since, you know, the coma and all prevented me from taking the exams. I have to take basic history and English lit, but my advisor placed me in Calc III and organic chemistry.”

  “I’m in organic chem this year. Which professor?”

  “Um, Dr. Palloti I think? Palta? It begins with a ‘pa’.”

  “Dr. Parmalta. That’s the class I’m in. Cool. Instant study buddy.”

  We smile at each other as we ascend the stairs to the floor my apartment is located on. It’s a three-level apartment complex and I’m on the top floor. As we climb the final set of stairs to floor three, Jayson and Ryder are sitting on the top step waiting, coffees and paper bags in their hands. Jayson levels a look at my hand in Julien’s and Julien drops it like it’s electrified.

  “You guys are early,” I remark and step between them to unlock my door.

  Ryder stands up and follows me inside. I hear Jayson say to Julien, “What the hell?” before they both walk in and close the door.

  “Liz, you want the shower first?” Julien asks me. He bends down to pick up the bag he left near the front door.

  Ryder hands me a coffee and jiggles one of the paper bags he’s holding, the smell of food is too enticing. “Nah, you can go first.”

  “We brought a variety of gluten-free scones and donuts,” Ryder informs me. Ten miles surely works up an appetite, and I want to shove as many donuts in my face right now as possible. I am that hungry.

  Ryder takes a plate out of my cupboard and starts piling pastries on it. Cinnamon scones, raspberry-filled, glazed, and powdered donuts, a few varieties of muffin tops. I snatch the dark-chocolate covered donut from his hand before he’s able to put it down on the plate and take a big bite. God, that’s so good. Whoever discovered chocolate is a genius.

  “Where’d you get these?” I ask, my mouth full.

  “Julien told us about that bakery you found.” I give Ryder a thumbs up.

  Jayson comes to stand beside me and leans in to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “Morning, princess.”

  “Stop it,” I mumble, my mouth full as I chew.

  He pulls me toward him, and I push him back to reach for another donut. He then tries to throw his arm across my shoulder, and I duck. He steps behind me and I glide to the side.

  “Jayson.”

  “Liz.”

  He’s full-on smirking at me now, a twinkle in his silver eyes. Ryder is leaning back against the counter watching us do our little dance of Jayson chasing and me evading. Julien walks in the kitchen, hair still damp from his shower, and sees me and Jayson circling the counter, like a predator after its prey. In one quick movement, Jayson reaches out and throws me over his shoulder.

  “Hey!” I yelp.

  “Shower time. You smell,” Jayson says and carries me down the hallway caveman style.

  Like being hit with a jarring bolt of electricity, my body jolts and my vision tunnels as flashes of memories hurdle to the forefront of my mind. I’m barraged by images of Jayson and Ryder. Memories of different times when they both picked me up and carried me over their shoulder. Memories of my laughter and squeals of delight. I blink and the image changes to a room, like a garage. A black Challenger sits up on a lift. My eyes are glued to the hunger on Ryder’s face as he lifts me, our bodies slamming against a wall, lips locked in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss.

  “Jayson, put me down.”

  He must hear something in my voice because for once, he actually listens and does what I ask.

  “What’s wrong, princess?”

  Exhauste
d from my run with Julien and unnerved from these new flashes of memories, I snap.

  “I’m not your fucking princess!” I shout at him. “I’m not your baby!” I shove him with outstretched hands. “Stop trying to make me be the girlfriend you used to know. I. Am. Not. Her!”

  “What the hell is going on?” I hear Ryder say before he pushes between us, tucking me behind him in a protective move.

  “Liz?” Jayson’s voice is filled with hurt and confusion.

  “Jesus Christ!” I shout at no one, hands in my hair. Now I feel guilty as hell because Jayson has this hurt look on his face. It’s like I kicked a defenseless puppy. It’s too much. He’s too much. I bang my fist against the wall and stalk off to my bedroom to get away from everyone.

  As soon as I get to my room, I slam the door, the loud crack of sound satisfying. Of course, my fucking neighbor starts banging on the wall again telling me to shut up. I sit down on my bed and give myself a minute to calm down. Screw that. I yank my pillow up to my face and scream into it. I curse the world. I curse Him. I curse myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt Jayson. But he keeps pushing and pushing. He wants me to be the girlfriend I used to be. I can’t. I don’t remember him in that way. I don’t want him like that. You want Ryder. You want Ryder to want you like that. Fuck!

  Someone knocks gently against the bedroom door. I scowl at it.

  “Elizabeth,” Ryder speaks quietly to me through the door. “Elizabeth, open up sweetheart.” Sweetheart. “Hey, talk to me. Please. Let me help.”

  After a few petulant minutes, I open the door. Ryder is patiently waiting on the other side. He opens his arms and I immediately go to him. I need this. I need him. I want him. I hold him tight and bury myself deep against his wide chest.

  “I told Jay to take off to give you some time.”

  “I appreciate that,” I murmur against his shirt marveling at how soft the fabric is against his hard chest. He smells good too. What is wrong with me?

  “Julien’s in the kitchen. Want to tell me what happened?”

  I heave a huge sigh. “No.”

  “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here for you. So is Julien.” He tilts his face down and presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “And so is Jayson. He loves you, Elizabeth. He’s loved you most of his life. This is really hard for him.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Didn’t you love me too?”

  He tenses. “Yes.”

  “So why is it harder for him than it is for you, or for Julien?”

  Ryder doesn’t answer me, and in not answering, he tells me everything.

  I release my hold on him. “I need to take a shower and get ready for my first class. Jayson was right. I do smell.” I scrunch my nose up.

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Well, I do. Can you guys lock up on your way out?”

  “We can do that. Text me your schedule and I’ll meet up with you for coffee or lunch or something.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He presses one last kiss to my forehead and turns to walk away. Looking back at me he affirms, “It’s going to be okay, Elizabeth,” and closes my bedroom door.

  My phone I left charging on my bedside table dings and I pick it up.

  ScaryGuy: I’m sorry.

  So am I. For so many reasons.

  Of course I’m going to be late for my first class, I chastise myself as I rush across the campus grounds to get to the building where I’m supposed to be for Contemporary American Literature. I’m walking at a fast pace, because let’s face it, I couldn’t run now if my life depended on it. Julien’s ten-mile death run did me in this morning. My legs are two limp noodles. I climb up the stairs to Mason Hall and sigh in relief when I get to the main auditorium doors with five minutes to spare, thankful I’m not late after all. The auditorium can fit at least three hundred students, and already half of it is full. I notice a row of seats near the middle that are empty and head toward them. I choose the seat nearest the aisle and plonk down.

  “Is this seat taken?” a dark-haired girl asks me.

  “Not at all. Be my guest,” I reply, taking out my laptop.

  The girl settles in right beside me, even though the entire row is empty. I hate it when people do that.

  “Hi, my name’s Meredith,” she proclaims happily to me in greeting.

  “Elizabeth,” I answer.

  I decide to check my phone before placing it on silent. There are texts from Elijah and Ryder, and another from Daniel. I click on Ryder’s and read it. He’s going to meet me after this class and suggests we grab a coffee. I send him back a yes and that I’m at Mason Hall so he knows where to come.

  “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. Maybe we can do a study group or something together. I heard this class is pretty hard.”

  “Mmmhmm,” I mumble, not really paying attention.

  My morning started out great but then turned to shit, so I’m not in the mood to be sociable, even if it does make me seem like a bitch. I open a text file ready for the professor to arrive and for class to begin.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Meredith says.

  She has the same lost, sad face Jayson had this morning when I yelled at him, and my guilty conscience has been eating me up since. I can’t be the reason for that look on two people’s faces today. “I’m sorry, Meredith. It’s been a crazy morning. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  She beams at me and I notice how pretty she is. Dark brown hair cut in a pixie bob, chocolate brown eyes, and a heart-shaped face with a creamy complexion. And she’s tiny, around five feet tall.

  “Small world. I told you we would run into each other again, Wildcat.”

  I look up and the guy I met at the beach weeks ago is grinning down at me with a cheeky grin. Am I on everybody’s radar today?

  “Trevor, remember?”

  “Yes. The hermit crab guy. Nice to see you again.”

  He’s dressed about the same as when I met him on the beach, except this time I can see his eyes which are a very unnatural shade of blue. The guy really is good-looking, twin dimples and all.

  “Do you guys know each other?” Meredith asks from beside me.

  Trevor aims his dimpled smile at her, and I can feel her sigh. “We ran into each other at the beach. I’m Trevor.”

  “Meredith. Nice to meet you. I was just asking Elizabeth about doing a study group. Do you want to join us?”

  Trevor shuffles past me and sits down in the seat next to Meredith’s.

  I stutter, “Wait, I never said I would—”

  “That sounds great. Count me in,” Trevor replies. He takes out his phone. “Here’s my number and email.”

  He and Meredith look at me expectantly. Well then. I guess I’m going to be part of a study group. We exchange contact info and chat a little bit more before we have to stop when the professor and three older students walk in. Meredith takes a group selfie of the three of us and forwards it to me and Trevor with the message: “Study buddies.”

  “Welcome everyone,” the professor vocalizes as he walks across the raised stage, a lapel wireless microphone clipped to his jacket. “This is one of the larger classes on campus so please bear with me. My name is Professor Hallenger and this is Contemporary American Literature, course 105. If you did not sign up for course 105, you are in the wrong room.”

  About seven people stand up and walk out. Professor Hallenger continues, “Because of the class size, I have three graduate teaching assistants to help me and they are also here for you to ask questions if I am not available. Terry, Francine, and Sarah, please hand out the semester syllabus to each row.”

  The three TAs stand up and start passing out stacks of papers down each row. For the rest of the class, Dr. Hallenger goes over his office hours and what books we will be reading this semester. We also have a major paper to write that will be worth sixty percent of our final grade. Since this is a Monday-Wednesday-Friday clas
s, it’s only fifty minutes long and Dr. Hallenger dismisses us early. I decide to wait outside on the steps for Ryder to arrive.

  Trevor and Meredith both amble beside me as we exit the auditorium. “What day do we want to do the study group?” Meredith asks us.

  “I’m available Wednesday or Thursday evening,” Trevor replies.

  “Me, too,” Meredith remarks in kind. “Elizabeth?”

  “I can work in a Wednesday or Thursday. Nothing too late, though.”

  “How about Wednesday at seven? I can reserve one of those study rooms in the library.”

  Both Trevor and I agree, and Meredith tells us she’ll go over to the library today and text us the study room number later. We have to push through groups of students gathered around the main doors to exit the building and I stop at the bottom step to wait for Ryder. The summer sun is hot today and the humidity is high. Beads of sweat are already forming along my temple and down my back.

  “I’ve actually got a ten-thirty class, so I need to bolt if I’m going to have enough time to grab something to eat. Talk to you guys later.” Meredith gives me a giant hug and I have to bend down to accommodate her small stature. “So great to meet you today, Elizabeth. I have a good feeling that this is going to be a great year!” Her enthusiasm is contagious and I wind up smiling with her. She hugs Trevor and leaves.

  “There’s a party this weekend at one of the frat houses.”

  Is Trevor asking me out?

  “Elizabeth!” Ryder’s voice rings out as he approaches. He jogs over and without thinking I plaster myself to him, arms going around his middle. Like this morning, he kisses the top of my head. “How was class?”

  “It was good.”

  I forgot Trevor was still with me until he clears his throat. “Hey, man. I’m Trevor.”

  “Ryder.”

  There’s a curious silence as the two of them size each other up. I roll my eyes. “See you on Wednesday, Trevor.”

  “See ya around, Wildcat.”

  Ryder takes my bag and drapes it over his shoulder. “Wildcat?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in later.”

  My hand reaches down and I link my pinky finger with his as we walk, and Ryder stumbles.