by Jamie Knight
Jenny
I can’t believe I woke up in a cold shower with Jameson Kendrick, the football star. Of all the people who could have found me in this mess, it was Jameson friggin’ Kendrick. I hate him! And of all the embarrassing things to happen to me, I had to find myself getting soaked with that guy. Just all the ugh!
He must think I’m so pathetic. I feel pathetic. I AM pathetic. I can’t believe I let Carrie get the best of me. I’m supposed to have my guard up. And now I can’t even think. My head is still a little fuzzy. I should probably go to the hospital and get myself checked out, but I don’t want a whole bunch of people asking me questions. And, if they find out I was roofied, they might want me to call the police. I just can’t, not today.
And why would Carrie do this to me? I know she’s mad at me for not letting her cheat off of me and everything, but we’d been avoiding each other. It’s been tense, but tolerable. How am I going to get through this situation now that I know my roommate roofied me?
She ROOFIED me! Like, what the hell? What kind of fucked up thing is that?
“Why did she put you in the Leviathan’s locker room?”
“Huh?”
I was so in my head, fake yelling at Carrie that I totally missed Jameson’s question. Or I heard it, but I just need a second to get my head back on straight.
“I was just wondering if you know why your roommate would leave you in our locker room?”
I could think of a few reasons. One of them is the fact that Jameson and I went to high school together — something he has clearly forgotten. Carrie doesn’t know how deep my bitterness runs for him, but she does know there are some hurt feelings. Whenever we’ve spoken about the Leviathans, our ‘discussion’ always devolved into talking about Jameson. He’s her favorite player. He’s a lot of people’s favorite player. And he’s a good linebacker, but I can’t get over the block in my mind that I have regarding my feelings for him.
And I have tried.
Plus, he doesn’t even remember me. I could tell from the look on his face that he thought I was just some random girl he found in the locker room this morning, so what’s the point of doing a deep dive into the past.
So, I tell a lie, but it’s only by omission.
“Carrie is a huge Leviathan fan. She loves the team, so we argue a lot about the fact that I’m not really one.”
“You don’t like football?”
“Um,” I scrunch my nose. “Not really.”
“And you and your roommate fight about it?” When he explains it in such simple terms, it does sound a little weird. It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it seems like Jameson likes to pry.
“I wouldn’t call it fighting. More like spirited discussion.” I very much want to drop talking. It is not easy playing it cool with a guy I used to have a crush on. It’s not like I still have feelings for him or anything, but, I don’t know, I guess there’s some feelings of rejection still out there. Also, how can he not remember me? We went to school together not that long ago. Was I really such a blip on his radar?
Maybe I’m more hurt than I originally thought. But there’s nothing I can really do about it. Just work through these feelings on my own, I guess.
“Okay, then,” he chuckles a little and gives me an easy smile. “I’m not saying I totally understand that dynamic, but okay.”
He stops asking me questions at least. Maybe he thinks I’m still feeling fuzzy, which is true. And I don’t mind the quiet. It’s preferable anyway.
I watch Jameson drive, taking me home. Unfortunately, he still looks good. He’s bigger than he was in high school, more filled out and muscular. I can see the muscle definition in his arms and can’t help remembering the perfect abs he was showing earlier when he had his shirt off. With black hair and blue eyes, he really could be a model.
It’s not like I really have any ill will towards him. Like I said, I’m bitter. I don’t want to get caught staring, which I was very much doing at his abs when we were in the locker room. Even as out of it as I was, I could still appreciate how cut his body was. Six months out of commission didn’t do too much damage to his body.
“Which dorm do you live in?”
I shake myself out of my thoughts, dissolving the picture of his abs that I have in my mind. It goes to the back of my head where I know it’ll pop back up at the most inconvenient time.
“Um, I live in the Clark Street dorms,” I point in that direction.
“O-kay,” Jameson navigates his car to a parking spot right outside the entrance into Clark Street. I step out of the car, ready to get away from Jameson. Being all cooped up in a car with him has gotten me all jittery. And, with the upcoming headache that I know will hit me when the Rohypnol wears off, I just need to be alone in my room.
I’m ready to do a quick turn around and say goodbye, but I see Jameson stepping out of his car. He’s put on a ballcap, that I assume is meant to disguise him? I’d laugh if I wasn’t so confused.
“Are you coming up?” I ask.
“Yeah, I thought maybe we could talk a little about some of the stuff I said back in the locker room.”
So, it looks like Jameson isn’t going to let go of those fiancée remarks he made. I was really hoping to be totally kept out of the whole thing. But, given that he just got me out of a really tight spot, I don’t really want to just dismiss him. The very least I can do is listen to what he has to say.
“Yeah, that’s cool. We can talk up in my dorm.”
I scan my ID and let him in, leading him up to my room. I’m about to unlock the door and let Jameson into my home, but then remember that there is a very large, very signed poster of him plastered very prominently in the living room.
I stop turning the key, not sure what to do about this. Could I postpone this talk until another time, putting it off until we just never have it? That would be beyond ideal, the absolute perfect situation.
“Um, I’m not feeling so great, maybe we can talk later?” I don’t even turn around, not wanting him to see that I am fully lying.
“Let me at least walk you in and make sure you’re situated. I’d hate to leave you like this after all that stuff that happened.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“It’s fine, it really is. Zero inconvenience.”
I get the feeling I’m not going to talk this guy out of being a gentleman. I may as well suck it up and let him in. I finish unlocking the door and throw it wide open because it is better to rip a Band-Aid off quickly.
I know the second he sees that horrendous eyesore on the wall. He doesn’t make a sound of pure disgust or judgement. It’s more curious. I don’t want to address it. I don’t want him to address it. I’m hoping that this can all just go away faster than it started.
“Did I sign that for you personally?”
It’s like Jameson reads my mind and knows exactly what I don’t want him to, but he does it anyway. And it’s not malicious or anything. He’s just a guy who wants to help me out and has a lot of questions. Something I’d rather not have to deal with right now, but I’m too nonconfrontational to say a gosh darn thing.
I finally turn around and look at him. He has that glint in his eye that he used to get sometimes. That glint for when he’s curious. Whenever he would ask me a lot of questions and it felt like he was interested in me. He had the same look he has on now. But it didn’t really work out then, so maybe I’m misreading now what I misread then.
“Uh, no. That’s my roommates. I would never hang up a poster like that.” It comes out before I realize how mean it sounded.
“Never?”
“That sounded a lot harsher than I meant it to. It’s more I’m not a fan of the Leviathans, so why would I buy a football poster and bother to get it signed, right?”
“I see.” He sounds unconvinced, but, thankfully, Jameson doesn’t ask any follow up questions regarding my intense dislike for the team. I don’t know if I can come up with any more lies. I’m already exhaus
ted having to temper all my feelings towards this man. If I could yell at him and not make it overly weird, I’d do just that.
He keeps looking around my apartment, his eyes skimming over every single surface. What is he looking for?
“You know you look familiar?”
My eyes go wide. Maybe he does remember me?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but you’re saying you don’t like football, so you probably don’t go to the games, right?”
“No, I don’t go,” I shake my head.
“And even if you went to the games, it would have been hard to see you in the crowd.” It seems like he’s talking to himself. His eyes zero in on me. “So, where would I have seen you?”
I don’t want to come out and say it. If Jameson can’t remember on his own, there’s no point of brining it up to him. But maybe I could guide him to the answer? There’s nothing wrong with that. It’ll still be like he got the idea on his own.
“I don’t know,” I shrug my shoulders. I have to be as nonchalant as possible. “Maybe we met somewhere else?”
“Like where?”
“Oh, like a restaurant or the library?”
“The local library?” That was a dumb suggestion.
“Well, maybe not the library. I don’t know. We could have met a while back. Like before either of us came to the city?” I am dropping some major hints. It has to be obvious to him. I may as well be leading him to the answer with a bunch of MVP trophies.
“I can’t think of where we would have run into one another.”
Is he dense? How is he not picking up on these clues? They are laid before him as neatly as I can without telling him we are former classmates.
I’m wrapped up in my feelings, but then I notice that Jameson has been moving closer and closer to me. My heart is pounding. I can smell his cologne. What am I supposed to do when he’s next to me? How is this awkward day getting even more awkward? I can’t let anything slip.
“Well, what about,” I start, but I hear the lock turning.
Chapter Three
Jenny
I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence when the door opens. There’s only one other person with the key which means that Carrie is about to walk in. Fuck! What am I supposed to do with Jameson? Carrie won’t seriously fall for the ballcap disguise. A child could see through it.
Dammit!
The door fully opens but before it does, I take a few steps away from the man taking up space in my dorm room. I’m not about to let Carrie get any ideas into her mean girl head. She deserves to know absolutely nothing about me.
And, you know what, I’m going to tell her how messed up it was the she roofied me. She’s not going to be allowed to think that she can do whatever she wants, whenever she wants to me.
I puff out my chest, but then I see her walk in with all her friends and immediately lose all that confidence I built up. Here in seconds, gone in seconds. Lacey, Aisha, and Melanie are all behind my roommate; all little mean girl copies of her. There’s no way I’m about to stick up for myself to anyone. Even if it was just me and Carrie, I’d run into my room as fast as I could, trying to never see her face again. Something about her makes me feel like total nothingness.
The four of them get inside the dorm and, unfortunately, take notice of me.
“What is she doing here?” Melanie asks. It’s a dumb question because I live here. Unless, maybe they all thought I’d still be drugged up in the locker room. It makes them seem guilty because why else wouldn’t I be here.
“Yeah, how was your night Jenny? Have any fun?” They all giggle.
No one has made note of the strange man standing off in the corner. Do they seriously not recognize him? It’s only a ballcap. They must be so self-absorbed that they can’t take the three seconds to glance at the guy and see it’s their favorite football player. A man they all go absolutely gaga for, chasing him around like a bunch of sad puppies.
But, whatever. I’m not about to spill the beans.
“Well, Car-rie, if you must know, my night could have been a lot better.”
“You don’t say?”
“Really?”
“What happened?” All three of her backup insulters chime in, adding their signature cattiness to their responses.
“Yeah, it could have been better. What you did was real shitty. What if someone had tried to hurt me? What would you have done then?”
Did she even think about what it meant putting an incapacitated girl in the middle of the men’s locker room? Anything could have happened. Literally, anything!
“Yeah, right. Like anyone would want to touch a red haired, uggo like you,” Carrie dismisses me.
Jesus, that cut deep. I don’t want it to affect me because Carrie’s opinion should mean absolutely nothing to me, but I can’t help but feel miserable about her calling me ugly. Even after she’s roofied me.
I’m about to back down, not sure what else I can say. This is the extent that I know how to fight back and stand up against Carrie. If she doesn’t want to respect me, I can’t force her. Maybe I’m just going to have to live with my roommate thinking of me as the shit on the bottom of her shoe. It’s only six more weeks.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say.”
The room goes silent, and everyone turns to Jameson.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said that is not a very nice thing to say. You shouldn’t talk to Jenny like that.”
Carrie looks beyond shocked. Neither her nor her friends are saying anything. I wonder if they are going to say something. Maybe they’ve finally realized that their ultimate crush is standing there, listening to them say the most horrible things.
“Are you –”
“And furthermore, do you know how serious it is to secretly drug someone. All four of you have committed assault, and the fact that you moved her is another offense. Given how unapologetic you are, I have zero qualms making it my personal mission that every single one of you is charged and promptly sent to jail.”
Wow. Did he just stand up for me? I’m not used to people, besides my parents, being so nice. This is beyond nice. I mean, I don’t know if he’s really going to go all the way and fight these guys in court for me, but just saying it makes me feel better.
“You’re not going to do jack shit.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Carrie looks legitimately scared. Her friends chatter amongst themselves. I can’t hear what they are saying, but it looks like their conversation has taken a turn for the concerned.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Carrie bites back. “You don’t have any evidence, and why do you care anyway? And I don’t know if you know who my dad is, but, if you mess with me, then he’ll make sure your lives are ruined.”
I don’t doubt she can do that to me, but not Jameson. He’s a star player on the state’s football team. There’s no way she can go up against him.
Jameson crosses his arms. “We’ll see.”
Carrie narrows her eyes slightly before turning to her friends. “Let’s get out of here. And go somewhere less trashy.”
They all nod and head back out the way they came. I let out a breath I had no idea I was holding. I can’t believe that just happened. Carrie has never been so shaken before. She was actually nervous.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
“No problem. Someone needs to put those guys in their place.”
“And that’s going to be you?”
Jameson shrugs. “Maybe it’ll be you.”
I think about it. I already tried to stand up to Carrie. In fact, I’ve tried multiple times. Whenever I have the tiniest bit of confidence and tell her she should be nicer to me, it only ends with her turning around and being straight up mean to me. Maybe it’ll all change for once.
But I doubt it.
“Let’s go talk in my room,” I suggest.
Mainly, I want to lie on my bed and not think about everything that’s happening. I don’t look be
hind me to see if Jameson is actually following me. It’s not until I reach my bed and plop down on it that I check to see. He’s standing in the door frame, kind of avoiding setting foot inside.
I realize it may have been a bit weird of me to have him come to my room to talk. Maybe he thought I meant something else? He’s not asking about it or trying to come inside, so maybe it’s all in my head. Like a lot of things are.
“I’m sorry you had to witness the nightmare that is my roommate.”
“What’s her problem?”
“There was this whole cheating thing, and, when it was my word against hers, she got in trouble. I guess she blames me for all the trouble she got into.”
“That’s stupid.”
“I guess. All I know is I can’t live with her another six weeks.” That’s how long it is until graduation. We were so close to this whole thing being over, and then Carrie had to go and roofie me. I don’t feel very safe in this dorm anymore. “I don’t know what to do.”
It’s not like I want Jameson’s help or anything, but this is how I work through my problems. I talk through them. I used to do this with my parents because they were always good at giving me advice, but I don’t want them to think anything is wrong. I don’t want them worrying about me. Moving so far away from home already had them kind of freaked out, and I’m not even that far away. It’s far enough away for it to be a little inconvenient.
“Have you tried the Housing Office?”
“That was the first thing I did, like almost immediately after moving in with Carrie. But all the rooms had been filled up, and there was no one willing to trade with me. I think Carrie has a bit of a reputation around campus.” I remember one girl just laughing at me when I suggested it. I even offered to tutor her in any subject she wanted. Nothing was enough.
Now I see why. No amount of money could make me want to live with Carrie. I’m only here because there is no other option. Maybe I could live in my car during the week. It would hard, but anything is better than this. And, on the weekends, I could go home. It’s a shit situation, but what other option do I have. I don’t really have any friends on campus, no one willing to let me crash in their dorm. It wouldn’t be so bad. It’s warmer now, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Yeah, living in my car could be a viable option.