So, no, I was nowhere near forgiving anybody. I needed more time. Forgiveness wasn't something I could fake or force. Not if it was going to be genuine.
When I got back to the dorm, I got a text from my mom. How was your first day of class?
Were those two colluding to ruin my day? Of course, a decent mother would have asked me that yesterday, on my actual first day of class. At least she was smart enough not to call me. I texted back a single word—Fine. I wanted her off my back.
I knew she was hurting. Going through her third divorce, hurting was expected. I was her support system for the first two, but this time, she'd crossed the line. This divorce was her fault. She'd screwed everything up with me and my stepdad Doug.
Was I hacked off at her for blowing things again? Oh, hell yes. My third stepfather wasn't the greatest guy, maybe, but he tried at times. Like me, he was the victim of Mom's bad behavior. We'd both been cheated on. I would have to be dead not to sympathize with him.
I dumped my stuff off in my room and headed to the dining hall in the basement where I met Taylor. She was just coming off shift.
Smiling, she handed me a plate with a crumbled, brownie-looking pastry on it. It was covered in chocolate and marshmallows. "You have to try this! It's heaven on earth. It flies out of here the minute we put it out. Serious. I am not exaggerating.
"I managed to save you this only because it was the crumbled remains in the pan and I hid it in the fridge behind the broccoli. We're the only dining hall on campus that makes it. It's legendary. But the cook only makes it when she's in the mood because it's a real pain."
Taylor watched me take a bite with an eager expression.
"Wow! This is heavenly." I closed my eyes and savored the richness. It had a crumbly crust, but the topping literally melted in my mouth. "Is that cream cheese in the frosting?" I licked my lips. "What's it called?"
She beamed. "Cobblestone bars."
I had new secret weapon—exactly what I needed to bribe Byron and placate Dex. Cobblestone bars were like the platinum of pastry. But I planned to hold it in reserve for when it became absolutely necessary to take extreme measures. I didn't see any reason to lead with my heavy guns. No need to move beyond sliced sugar cookies and basic chocolate chip for now. "Any chance we can get this recipe?"
Later that night I looked Byron up on Facebook. He listed brownies and cookies as two of his favorite foods. Good for me. Then, thinking like Dex, I prepared for battle, and the Wednesday night study group, by doing some online snooping, trying to get the dirt on Dr. Rogers. My experience tracking down Jason had taught me a lot. But evidently, not quite enough. I came up empty.
Wednesday was another boring chem lecture. I had so much homework in my other classes, I wished I'd been able to skip it. Dr. Rogers was in fine form, spewing insults, calling her students stupid, lazy asses, lecturing from packed slides, and working equations on a smart board so quickly it was impossible to keep up with her, even on steroids. Dex recorded it all on a small portable recorder.
"Document everything," he said when I asked him if he was recording it to listen to again later.
That afternoon I went to work full of anticipation at seeing Logan and Jason. But Jason worked in his office with the door closed the entire three hours I was there.
Logan was out in the field on an important assignment for Jason. I had orders not to dispatch him to any other job, no matter how urgent. Logan didn't text me, at work or otherwise. He didn't ask to hang out after our shift for a burger. After all the trouble he'd gone to to get my number, I was totally confused and bewildered. I had to resist the urge to text him. But I didn't want to look desperate and pathetic. My imagination was particularly vivid and kept bringing up images of him and that girl from the SUB.
After work, I ran back to the dorm, bought a refrigerated tube of cookie dough from the Market—the convenience store located in a room adjacent to the dining hall—sliced and baked them, and ran off to study group. There were four of us—Dex, two other guys and me. No wonder I was the one who had to bring the cookies. Dex played things close to his chest. The first session was basically a meet-and-greet. Then we worked through our homework problems. I was pleased I could keep up with the rest of the group.
Dex pulled out his secret treasure—the first-week quiz from last semester, ten questions complete with the key. I don't know how he got it. I didn't ask. Dex wouldn't part with it or let any of us snap a picture of it for fear word would get out. But we went over it and discussed it.
"Are you sure this is from the same class?" I asked. "Did they even use the same book or curriculum? There's nothing on here that we've remotely been over."
"And neither had they," Dex said. "Pay particular attention to question six. See how she rearranged a molecule structure so that at first glance it appears like the right answer? Guess again. The correct answer is none of the above. She likes to pull crap like that."
I did my best to memorize the quiz.
When we left, Dex walked out with me. "What happened to our strategic planning?" I asked.
"That was strategic. I was assessing who we could trust and what tasks each is best suited for," Dex said.
"And?"
"If anyone leaks that quiz, they're out."
"Yeah, but how would you know? If you got hold of it, someone else theoretically could."
"Good point. I have my methods. I'm not too worried. I think you're all keepers."
At least I was still in. "I did some digging on Dr. Rogers on my own. I couldn't find a thing on her. The unhappy alum donors are keeping things quiet."
Dex smiled at me. "Now you're beginning to think like someone who's destined to graduate magna cum laude."
"Only with great honor? I think not. You mean summa cum laude." With highest honors.
He laughed. "Don't get cocky, baby. You still have a way to go." We reached a crossroad. Our dorms were in opposite directions.
"I'm this way," I said.
"See you Friday. And bring more cookies next time."
Thursday was another sweltering day. Summer rocked on. It hadn't gotten the memo that school was back in session and it should back off. By the time I got out of class at eleven, it was already nearly ninety. I worked up a sweat walking back from class. When I got back to the dorm, Bre, Taylor, and Nicole were waiting for me in my room, dressed in bikinis and short shorts. Three packed beach bags sat on my bed and a cooler lay on the floor. The room smelled like sunscreen, suntan lotion, and a cocktail of Bre, Nic, and Tay's perfumes.
"Good! You're back. Hurry and change. We're going cliff diving!" Nic was French braiding Taylor's hair as she sat on Bre's bed. Her own hair was already intricately braided.
"What are you talking about?" I dumped my backpack next to my desk, lifted my hair off my neck, and stood in front of the fan.
"We're going to the cliffs." Bre was applying pink-tinted lip balm in front of the mirror over our sink. "Dan and Jake and a few of their buddies invited us along. Get into your suit and pack a bag. They'll be here soon."
I hesitated. The few times I'd seen Jake and Dan hadn't exactly been roaring successes. "I don't get a say?"
"Come on, Ellie," Nicole said. "Don't be a stick-in-the-mud. It'll be fun. Better than roasting here, anyway. The cliffs are legendary. Everyone's going. It'll be a big party. We packed a picnic lunch. The guys are bringing beer. Change into your suit and I'll braid your hair after I'm done with Tay's."
The cliffs were on the river. I'd heard plenty of wild stories about them since moving in. "Can't we go to the dunes?"
The dunes were also on the river. Going to the dunes meant playing beer pong and wading in the river, not risking a major water wedgie from failing to execute a proper pencil dive from forty feet up.
"I snagged the last of the day-old cookies from the dining hall," Taylor said. "We'll have a feast."
"Any cobblestone bars?" I pulled my white bikini out of a drawer.
"No. Sorry. But I'm buttering up th
e cook in preparation for asking for the recipe."
Fifteen minutes later we were packed into two cars with Dan and his buddies, sandwiched in so tightly that even with the air conditioning going full blast we stuck to each other. Dan drove, speeding out along the roads that wound out of town through rolling golden wheat fields toward the river. Combines combed the fields, kicking up dust and making patterns in the wheat. Dan turned off the main road and headed south, driving along the crooked roads and taking curves so fast I decided he was trying to make us sick.
The wheat fields gave way to barren sage land and rimrock hills dotted sparsely with patches of green scrub brush. Forty minutes after we left, we pulled into a packed parking lot. The girls had been right—music blared, the air smelled of beer and coconut oil, and the rocks were covered with guys in swim trunks and girls in bikinis. We piled out of the car and grabbed our towels, coolers, and bags.
Dan muscled his way ahead of us through the crowd, looking for a bare patch of rock to spread our towels. I liked to people watch and found the crowd fascinating. College drama played out before my eyes. Guys hitting on girls. Girls making plays for guys. Some people totally ignored. Rough housing. Jealous fits. Drunken antics. And flesh everywhere.
Nic leaned over and whispered to Taylor and me, "Have you ever seen so many gorgeous guys in one spot?"
No I hadn't. Just then I was feeling insecure, particularly next to Taylor with her strawberry blond hair, tiny waist, and toned abs. And Nic with her light cocoa-colored skin, dark hair and eyes, and absolutely gorgeously round booty. She had a shapely ass to rival any ass on the planet. I had a flat little butt and felt plain next to them. But what did I care? I wasn't looking for a guy. And my bellybutton ring sparkled in the sun, signaling I was finally cool.
Dan found a spot next to the rimrock cliffs and waved to us before spreading out our beach blanket. As we made our way toward him, my heart plummeted. I caught a glimpse of someone it was impossible for me to miss in a crowd. He drew my gaze like a magnet. Logan lounged on his side, propped on one elbow on a blanket at the edge of the cliffs next to the girl from the SUB, casually drinking a beer and laughing as he talked to her.
Shirtless, he was hotter even than my imagination had dared conjure. His abs were washboard, his biceps sculpted, and his shoulders broad and taut, oiled with suntan lotion that emphasized his every stroke of definition. My hands itched to slide over him and be the one slathering him in lotion. A tattoo coiled over his left shoulder, subtle, yet sexy, against his tanned skin.
Next to him, the girl was so perfectly tanned it had to come from a tanning booth. Her hot pink bikini showed it off brilliantly. When she smiled, her teeth were perfect and white. They were joking and laughing intimately while Logan's two friends from Up All Night tossed a football next to them.
I swallowed hard and tried to force my gaze away from him. So that was why he hadn't texted. I felt foolish for hoping a guy like him would really be interested in me. Especially when he made such a gorgeous couple with her.
I wasn't fast enough. Logan looked up. Our eyes met. He looked surprised. I looked away guiltily and pretended not to see him. My party mood slipped away.
Nic picked up on my mood. "What's the matter?"
For the second time, I wasn't quick enough. Her gaze followed mine. "Whoa! Who is that? He's hot."
"No one. Just a guy I work with."
"Who? Where?" Taylor looked around. It wasn't hard for her to spot Logan. "You mean the hot, built guy with the dark hair at the edge of the cliff?"
"The one with the pink bikini goddess. Yeah, him. He's an RTA, a resident tech assistant." I refused to look at him again.
"Wow! As soon as we get back to the dorm, I'm going to develop technical difficulties if I have to pull my Ethernet cable out of the wall with my teeth." Tay shook her head. "He is fine."
"He smiled at you," Nic said as we dropped our beach blanket and sat. "You just dissed him."
"Did not. I was giving him his privacy. Leaving him alone on his date." I adjusted my sunglasses.
"Did too. That was just rude." Nic pulled a bottle of suntan lotion from her bag and began slathering it on her legs.
I pulled a bottle of spray-on sunscreen from my bag and handed it to Tay as I lifted up my braid so she could spray my back. I flinched and sucked in my breath. "Cold, cold, cold!"
"I'd say you are." Nic smelled like an afternoon in Hawaii as she lotioned her arms. "Are you going to leave him to the clutches of the pink bikini bitch?"
"I'd say she already has him. She was hanging onto him at the SUB the other day."
The guys broke open the cooler of beer. They handed a couple of cans down to us and went off with Bre to watch the jumpers. I popped mine open.
"What's the story between you two and why are you holding out on us?" Tay popped her can open, too, and took a swig. "When did you see him in the SUB? Are you stalking him?"
"Hah! Right. He begged me to have a burger with him after work on Monday, practically pried my phone number out of me, and then ignored me all week." I took a big drink of my beer. It was cold and tasted good in the heat.
"That's the guy you had the burger with?" Nic's mouth fell open. "You are crazy. If that guy looked twice at me, I'd be all over him until he pried me loose."
I held the cold beer can against my cheek, soaking up the cool condensation from it. "His name is Logan. And I told you two. I just came off a bad—no, horribly hideous relationship with a lying, cheating bastard. I'm not ready for another relationship right now. I'm still licking my wounds. I'm certainly not ready to take a further beating by throwing myself at a guy of Logan's caliber."
Austin was pretty hot. I'd always felt like he'd been the settler in our relationship and I was the reacher, grasping for someone out of my class. When he cheated on me, he pretty much destroyed me and cemented my belief that I wasn't worthy. I wasn't going to go there again and shoot for a guy out of my league again.
"So hook up with Logan," Nic said. "And let him lick your wounds."
I shook my head. "I'm not the hooking-up type. Besides, he's way out of my league."
"He is not!" Tay rushed immediately to my defense.
It was sweet of her, but she was my friend and therefore biased. While we finished our beers, I made a point of not looking in Logan's direction.
Bre came running back with Dan. "Come on, you three! It's awesome over there. We're going to jump before lunch and we need everyone."
I frowned, perplexed at why we all needed to be there and jump at the same time as we followed her to the edge of the cliffs. There were two jumping spots into the gentle river current below. One spot was off a ten-foot-high cliff. The other jump was a good forty feet.
As I watched people below climbing out of the water below after their dives and struggling up the slippery rock to the top of the forty-foot jump, I realized jumping was the easy part, assuming you knew how to pencil dive. Climbing back was vicious and required teamwork.
No wonder Bre needed all hands on deck. Groups of friends jumped off one by one into the river and treaded water waiting for the last person in their party. When everyone had jumped, they formed a chain up the cliff and helped each other up, like mountain climbers scaling toward a summit.
As we got in line, I spotted Logan and the girl in the pink bikini waiting in line for their turns in the group in front of us. Why was my eye always drawn to him?
Making the dive required running and jumping off the cliff far enough out so you cleared the cliff walls. One at a time, his two buddies took off at a run and jumped feet first. Then the girl hugged Logan, laughed, and strutted her perfect body to the takeoff point. With the eyes of half the guys around on her, she ran, breasts bouncing, swung her arms, and jumped off, pointing her dainty, manicured feet to show off her long legs. She hit the water with barely a splash to the applause of the guys on the cliffs, who hooted and whistled.
That was when Logan turned and saw me. His face lit up with recognitio
n. He winked at me and mouthed "watch this."
But instead of going to the edge of the running strip, he kneeled and hoisted himself over the edge of the rimrock. I leaned cautiously over the ledge to get a look at him, shaking my head and holding my breath.
He was clinging to the face of the wall in a squat with his back toward the water. The crowd gasped. Oh, God, he's showing off for me.
"Logan, no!" I screamed at him.
He didn't hear me. He took a deep breath, pushed off, flexing every muscle in his powerful legs, and did a back flip.
I gasped, watching horrified until his head cleared the rock wall. He righted himself, pointed his feet and hit the water in perfect pencil-dive form, disappearing below the water's surface.
When he popped back up, the crowd erupted in applause and I released the breath I'd been holding. He waved to me, or maybe he was just waving to the crowd. The crowd was evenly split along gender lines over whose dive was better, Logan's or the girl's. Trying to be objective, I gave him difficulty points.
He was the last of his group. The others swam for the shore, but Logan ignored them and treaded water as they called for him to join them. He shook his head and pointed upward while my heart pumped out of control, hoping he was waiting for me and realizing that was seriously insane.
"I'm first. I can tread water forever!" Bre stepped in front of us, ran and dove off.
We clapped and squealed.
Logan kept treading water below while the rest of his group waited for him on a rock just below the surface in the shallow water.
Dan crowded in next.
"What do you think Logan's waiting for?" I asked Nic.
"You, you idiot." She shoved me to the front of the line, but one of the other guys in our party cut me off and took his turn before me.
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