Chapter Thirteen
Rory
I hurry across campus from one class to the next, a hot tea clasped in my hands because I’m trying to cut back on my amount of coffee. Only, this chai tea stuff tastes like shit and I’ll end up buying coffee anyway. Honestly, you must be related to Satan to like the stuff.
I toss the offending cup into a trashcan I pass by before entering the brick structure my psychology class is housed in. It’s my favorite of all my classes. I’ve always loved exploring the human psyche. What makes people tick, make certain choices, how our personalities can be determined by our upbringing. All of it is fascinating to me.
Opening the door, I walk down the stairs, sliding into my usual seat by a girl named Julie. She’s already seated, laptop up and ready on a new blank document to take notes. I’m not envious at all of the coffee by her side.
Actually I totally am, so much so I’m tempted to steal it, but I refuse to be that much of a coffee fiend.
Lowering my backpack to the ground, I pull my own laptop out so I’ll be prepared for the extensive note taking Professor Simmons expects of us. It’s not that I mind note taking, but he speaks so quickly that I have to type inhumanly fast to keep up. By the end of the lecture my fingers are always left sore and slightly swollen around the knuckles. I wish I was exaggerating.
I flash a smile at Connor when he sits down beside me. It’s funny to me despite the lack of assigned seating we always end up in the same seats.
“No coffee today?” he asks in a sleep-ridden voice. His hair is a mess like he did, in fact, roll out of bed before rushing here.
“Thought I’d try tea.” I stick out my tongue and roll my eyes for good measure.
He chuckles. “Big mistake, I take it?”
“You have no idea.”
Professor Simmons enters the room, shuffles some papers, and gets straight to his lecture.
My fingers fly across the keyboard as he speaks, not slowing until he utters the one word I’m not prepared to hear.
Suicide.
My fingers stop all together, my breath held in my throat when my lungs refuse to cooperate.
Over the years, I’ve learned I can’t avoid the topic of suicide. Whether it’s referenced on TV, in a book, or any other number of ways. Despite that, sometimes, like now, it hits me harder than other times. Taking me back to eight-years-old when my whole life was forever changed because of that word.
Professor Simmons keeps talking, but I don’t hear him, not over the rush of blood roaring like an ocean in my ears.
“Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made!”
“…Daddy?”
“DADDY! NO!”
I grab my stuff, my laptop under my arm, and run from the classroom. Heads turn my way and I hear the professor tell everyone to get back to work.
Bursting through the doors, I inhale the first lungful of air I’ve taken since he uttered that word.
Running down the hall, I stop when I reach the end, leaning against the wall since my body is suddenly too heavy to hold up.
Coming home from school, armed with my A+ project in hand, I’d been so excited to show my father. Ramsey Abbott was known as a Senator by most people, but to me he was just Daddy.
Until that day.
When he hung himself from a beam in our family room.
At first I didn’t understand what I saw, but by the time it registered in my child brain it was too late to unsee. My mom came in behind me, her scream shrill at the sight of his limp dangling body.
Sometimes I can still smell the awful scent of human bile permeating the room.
“Hazel! Stay outside,” she’d screamed, grabbing me by the shoulders and ushering me back out. “Take your sister!”
Everything happened in a flurry then, people coming in and out of the house, other politicians showing up, and no one seemed to understand why a man as beloved as my father would take his own life.
That is until a week later, during his funeral no less, the news leaked the story of the century all about how my father was taking bribes and covering up dirty crimes.
Senator Ramsey Abbott ceased being a good person in the eyes of anyone that day.
We lost everything.
The house, the cars, every cent.
We were the ones that paid for his crimes.
That day, too, was the last day my mother ever cried. After that, she just stopped caring.
It’s funny too, considering the corruption that runs deep in politics that my father was singled out. I guess the difference is he got caught.
A tear drips off my chin, shocking me back into reality. I hate crying. My mom fed on my tears, said it made me weak. I guess since she never cried anymore that made her the strong one.
I hate that her words get to me even now. She’s states away, still in Florida, doing God knows what to keep a roof over her head. As much as I want to say I don’t care, I wish that were true. All these years a small granule inside of me, as minuscule as a grain of sand, has loved her despite her flaws and hoped she’d get her life back on track for Hazel and me.
She never has and I know deep down she never will.
After my father’s betrayal, she couldn’t cope, spiraling out of control.
I know she truly loved him, and his suicide hurt her like a gaping wound, but it was the loss of the money that drove her mad.
I’ve always vowed to myself to never let money become such a priority in my life. I want enough to own a house, put food on the table, and cover other necessities. As long as I have that I’ll be happy.
“What are you doing sniveling in the hallway? Princesses do seem to cry in all those Disney movies. Very woe-is-me-esque if you ask me.”
I look up to see Mascen strolling down the hall, jeans hugging his narrow waist and thick thighs, a heather gray t-shirt molded to his muscular torso, and that fucking baseball cap on backwards.
A baseball cap should not be so sexy.
“What do you want, Wade?” I growl out, bending down to put my laptop in my bag. I try to inconspicuously dry my tears, but I know he sees. Mascen Wade seems to see everything. His boots come to a stop inches from my backpack, the heat of his body managing to warm the space around us.
“I was just passing by and saw you crying. It’s not my fault you’re drawing attention to yourself.”
I wrinkle my nose, standing up straight. “If you’re only here to insult me, go away. I’m not in the mood to trade barbs with you.”
He lowers his voice to a husky whisper. “Oh, but it’s so much fun.” His lip curls in distaste as he continues to stand there.
I huff out a breath and toss my backpack over my shoulder. He won’t move, so I’m forced to bump into him as I pass.
He falls into step beside me, causing me to stifle a groan. I want to fall apart in quiet solitude. The last person I want to witness me crumble is Mascen.
Why does he have to be here? Campus is huge, couldn’t he be anywhere else?
“Can you go away?” I hiss out, not bothering to look over at him.
“I’m headed this way, Princess. You were the one crying. Excuse me for being a gentleman and stopping to console you.”
My steps freeze. When he realizes I’m no longer beside him, he turns around, walking back to stand in front of me.
“You call that being a gentleman?” I shake my head rapidly back and forth. “Any time we’ve spoken pretty much every word out of your mouth is an insult.” Lifting my chin, I glare haughtily up at him. “What happened to the kind, sweet boy I knew growing up? That boy is nothing like the person standing in front of me.” Moving in closer to him, our chests only a centimeter apart, I say, “How would your mom feel if she knew how you talk to me?”
His jaw clenches, the muscle twitching. His lips pinch together while his dark brows draw in. Even glaring at me like he wants to set me on fire, Mascen Wade is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
He ducks his head and my breath catches when his lips press righ
t against my ear. The cloying scent of cigarettes lingers on his skin, masking his normal aroma. “Life happened. You should know that better than anyone.” Straightening, he takes a step back. “Dry your tears, Princess. Whatever it is, it’s not worth crying over.”
With those parting words, he turns, leaving me alone in the hall as he descends the stairs.
His final words echo behind him, and for a moment, in those sparkling gray eyes, I saw the boy I used to know. Not the one I know could break my heart so easily if I don’t stay away.
Chapter Fourteen
Mascen
How is it possible that Rory is every-fucking-where?
It was chance that I was in that building at this time, having a meeting with one of my professors. As I was leaving I noticed someone crying in the hall. Normally I would’ve kept on walking, but something clicked in my brain and I realized it was her. I had no idea what had her sniveling. Didn’t care either. Princess could cry all she wanted, but those tears meant nothing to me. Everyone has problems. Hers aren’t worse than anyone else’s.
Then why are you still thinking about her?
“Good question,” I mutter under my breath, causing some guy on the sidewalk to side-eye me.
I curl my lip at him, heading across campus in the direction of my next class. Farther and farther away from Aurora. I hate that a part of me is curious as to what she was upset about.
I have about thirty minutes before class starts, so I opt to get lunch on campus. I could go to the dining hall, even though I don’t live on campus I’m still required to pay for the food services, but I’m not interested in dealing with people.
Despite the fact I fall at the top of the social hierarchy at Aldridge it isn’t of my own doing as far as being a nice, sociable person. No, the only reason people want to know me is because of my heritage and the fact I happen to be really good at baseball. They hope if they get close enough to me, if I think we’re friends, somehow, someway, I’ll get them somewhere. Most of these people are rich pricks anyway, or at least their family is rich, but the difference between them and me is fame. There are numerous, mega wealthy families that the average joe has never heard of because they stay on the outskirts, their names aren’t in the media or gracing tabloids. Not like the Wade name. Even with my dad in his fifties, interest in him and the band hasn’t waned. Their old fans remain loyal, and because their music is timeless a lot of people my age are obsessed with them too.
If my dad and his bandmates are kings in the music industry that makes their children the princes and princesses.
Opening the door to one of the cafés on campus, I get in line, not surprised when more than one student lets me cut in front. I don’t protest either, and if you think I offer thanks you’d be wrong.
At the counter, I place an order for some fancy apple and turkey sandwich with brie and a tea. The girl looks at me weird when I order the tea, which makes me glare right back.
Off to the side, I wait for my to-go order. Sitting inside the crowded café to eat my lunch would be like sitting in the fiery pits of hell which gets a big fat no thank you from me.
Digging my phone from my pocket, I scroll through it haphazardly using it as a block that says don’t fucking approach me, I’m very fucking busy.
As soon as my order number is called I grab the paper bag, my drink, and get the hell out, ignoring the stares as I go.
Underneath one of the large maple trees I sit down in the grass beneath the shady branches to eat my sandwich. It puts me far enough away from people that they’re not likely to see me, but it does leave me close enough to watch the goings-on of campus life.
Stretching my legs out, I unwrap the plastic from the sandwich.
It’s a sunny day, warm, but there’s something in the air, maybe a difference in pressure that you know the days are very soon to get colder.
My phone buzzes and I look at the text from Cole.
Cole: Where r u? Want to get lunch?
Me: Already eating.
Cole: Motherfucker.
I laugh to myself, shaking my head as I bite into my sandwich.
Me: My next class starts soon anyway.
Cole: U making dinner?
Me: It’s my turn.
Cole: Sweet.
Finishing the last bite of food, I scrunch up the trash and stand with my tea in hand. I toss the trash when I finally pass a garbage bin—I can’t have the karma of littering following me everywhere—and head straight across to the science building.
I should probably be offended by how shocked people are when they learn I’ve decided to go down the path to sports medicine. I guess they expect me to kick back and live off a trust fund or something, but that’s not me. I want to work for what I have. I love baseball and other sports, plus science and math have always come easy to me, so sports medicine just made sense.
I’ve had people ask why I wouldn’t want to go pro with baseball, but I’ve hated life in the limelight as is, why would I set myself up for even more personal scrutiny? At least with sports medicine it’s something I’ll enjoy and if things work out maybe I’ll still be around baseball but in the background.
Entering the building I head up a floor to my classroom. I’m the first person and I take my usual seat nearest the exit. Pulling out my shit, I set everything up as more students trickle into the room and finally the professor joins us from a side room.
He talks, I listen and take notes, the monotony of it somehow comforting. Or maybe it’s only because for a little while I can’t think about anything else.
Chapter Fifteen
Rory
The campus is abuzz with energy, students decked out in the school’s colors as they head toward the football field. Despite my lack of sports knowledge even I have to admit I’m excited. There’s an infectious energy in the air for the first home game.
“This is going to be so much fun!” Kenna practically squeals. Her face is painted in the school’s colors, blue and orange, and she even has the matching ribbons woven through her two braids.
Li tugs on the hem of the tiny short-shorts she borrowed from Kenna. I lucked out with the denim mini-skirt Kenna told me to wear. It’s short, but not like the shorts she gave Li. If I was wearing those they’d be so far up my crack they’d never see the light of day again. She did force me into a crop top, which is so not my thing. It makes me feel uncomfortable exposing my midriff. When Kenna saw my belly button piercing she asked me why I’d have my belly button pierced if I didn’t intend to show it off. I didn’t give her an answer, but the truth was it’d been a stupid impulse decision to have some sort of control.
Pushing my glasses up my nose when they slip down, I follow the girls through the crowd of students. Smiling around me, I feel like a true student for the first time. Not that all the homework hasn’t been enough of a reminder, but this was one of the things I was most looking forward to when I went away to college. The camaraderie that comes with living on campus.
Kenna flashes our tickets to one of the workers and he takes them, scanning them on his fancy device before ushering us inside.
Kenna lets out a little squeal and shimmies. “Go team!”
A couple people turn to look at her exclamation, but it doesn’t faze her a bit.
We walk down the concrete stairs, our seats near the front since Kenna splurged on getting good ones. She also gave Li and I strict orders not to worry about paying her back. It didn’t make me feel any less guilty. I wasn’t used to being spoiled, and while trying to build genuine friendships with my roommates it felt wrong to let her treat me to something like this. That being said, I clearly took her up on the offer. I need to save every penny I can. So far I’ve lucked out that the tips from Marcelo’s have been decent, far better than the diner I worked at before.
We’re almost to our seats when something catches my eye. I look to my right, squinting from the bright sunlight to find Cole waving at me. I give him a small wave back.
Kenna notices
too and pauses, smiling at me. “I cannot believe Cole Anderson likes you.”
“He doesn’t like me,” I snort, my eyes sliding to his surly friend beside him.
I wish Mascen didn’t capture my attention so much. Logic doesn’t seem to matter when I’m inexplicably drawn to him.
Kenna laughs, drawing my attention back to her. “Are you blind? Of course he’s into you. I mean, you went home with him that first night at Harvey’s and he wanted to dance with you again the second time, now this.” She ticks off on her fingers. “He likes you.”
“He definitely does,” Li agrees as we shuffle the rest of the way down to our seats. “If a guy doesn’t like you he’s going to ignore you.”
Like Mascen, my mind taunts.
I tuck a piece of long dark brown hair behind my ear, once again pushing my stubborn glasses up my nose. Our seats are two rows beneath the guys and on the next aisle over. Trying not to look at Mascen is killing me, but I know he doesn’t deserve a second thought. I’m being weak.
Cole is a nice enough guy, especially for being popular on campus, but he doesn’t make my heart beat faster. My palms don’t sweat when he’s near. And he definitely doesn’t make me crazy like Mascen does.
Beside me, Kenna turns to look at the guys, letting out a soft moan. “God, Mascen Wade is so hot.”
“Mascen?” I blurt, my tone higher pitched than normal from the surprise of her bring him up.
Kenna looks back at me, arching a brow. “Surely you’ve heard of him. He’s like the guy on campus. You know, the stereotypical hot jock who pretty much every girl wants to take a ride on his pogo stick.” Biting her lip she adds, “I’ve heard he only fucks from behind, but that could just be a rumor. Apparently he’s this amazing baseball pitcher too. I can’t wait to witness his fastball in person. Or curve ball. Or any kind of ball.” Li snorts at her antics from my other side. “I can’t help myself. He’s sexy as fuck. That stare … I’d let him do me any way he wanted. He can break my heart, my bed, even my back.” She licks her lips suggestively, winking at us. “And as if all that isn’t enough, he’s basically music royalty. His dad is the drummer in Willow Creek. Like yeah there are a lot of students here from prominent families, present company included,” she playfully sticks her tongue out, “but he’s basically American royalty. I read in a tabloid once that he dated the First Daughter.”
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