by Elena Monroe
“A student came forward with a tip that you might be engaging in a relationship with a student. While they may be of age, we have a no-tolerance policy between professors and students, Oliver. I’m sorry, but we have to dismiss you from all classes until we investigate the claim.”
My arms didn’t drop from being crossed, and my eyebrows dug into the bone, dropping into my eyes in anger. This was bullshit. I wasn’t risking Layla again on some teenage girl who couldn’t even tell you three classic novels. Layla and I were puzzle pieces, never truly whole unless we had each other, and I finally had that after five years of torture.
“This is bullshit. Who am I supposedly fucking?”
His face jumped at my words—none of them professional, all of them angry.
“Oliver, that’s confidential. She’s not in your classes. Students have seen her get into your car and have seen you on campus together. It’s setting an uneasy tone.”
Addileigh? He was worried I was fucking Addileigh?
“That’s my ex’s sister. I wouldn’t do that to her.”
The dean waved two fingers, and the security took a step forward towards me and my desk, standing between us.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. We’ll investigate quickly, but for now you are suspended.”
Harder than it needs to be? How hard exactly should this be?
It felt like betrayal wrapped up in platinum blonde and cherry lipstick.
It felt like bullshit was once again coming between me and having Layla.
It felt like I needed to take a calming breath before I did something reckless just to snuff out all the feelings I was hosting. Feelings were still something I had to learn to live with—the bad ones at least. Those were the ones that screamed let’s do something bad at a volume I couldn’t ignore. The good ones were easy to wear; those I could sink into.
Security watched me toss my shit into my bag, like a pissed off employee that was just fired, because basically, I was. I let them walk me off campus like they had to, while every set of eyes were glued to the scene we were making with every step.
I saw Addi laughing with her friends, sitting on the fountain’s edge. I made sure I made my eyes cold and dead when she looked at me. I wanted her to feel like she killed me. It worked, and the fake tan seemed to drain her face of any real color. Her lips opened in shock at me being escorted off campus, away from all the young girls I had no desire to fuck.
I didn’t have her number; otherwise, I would have called and told her to go fuck herself. It wasn’t clear who complained, if Addi had the balls to go against me or not, but she was the one who was mixed up in this, and I blamed her for making herself look comfortable around me.
No one looked comfortable around me, and that was the red flag on campus.
I got into my car, with security still watching me, until I pulled away from the curb. Amherst was determined to make sure they created a buffer between me and the students, quickly and not carefully. I drove to Intuition, which was thankfully located off campus.
I walked in, and everyone stared longer than normal when the door opened and closed behind me. I was aware that girls were attracted to me and the bad boy image that fit me like a glove. However, this kind of staring was more than attraction; this was the news of me being walked out by security having travelled fast—as fast as the five-minute drive it took to get there.
At the counter, I order my coffee from Kevin—the same barista who never liked me and now probably less than ever. His eyes and voice were a special kind of tortured whenever I ordered. He remembered me from when I was a student and disregarded all his rules and practically living in his space. He looked at me even more offended when he started making my coffee, and I barked out a, “What?”
“I’m surprised you’re here. Word travels fast.”
No one was taking away the small joy of me getting my second coffee of the day.
It wasn’t true, so I wasn’t going to act uncomfortable. I wasn’t giving anyone the satisfaction of assuming my temperament was due to some fake news.
“If they only knew the fucked up shit I’ve really done.”
Kevin knew everything. He was practically the all-seeing eye of this campus; even shit he didn’t want to know he held close to the vest. I wasn’t wrong in assuming he knew all the Sinners’ secrets, especially since most of them were hashed out here. He slid my coffee cup against the counter, but his grip on the to-go cup didn’t let up when I pushed my hand forward. He leaned in, and with a low voice said, “You didn’t hear it from me. They have the wrong guy, but the rest is true.”
His death grip on my black coffee let up, and I still stood there as I took the first sip.
“Wrong guy?”
He stayed silent, giving me a strong stare, like I was playing dumb, and he knew I heard him. Kevin wasn’t going to give me any clues, just a nudge in the right direction.
I found my sacred spot, different from the worn-in couch as a student and full-time Sinner. Now I sat in the corner, where Layla sat the day I met her.
I pulled out my book that I was currently reading, trying to take my mind off the bullshit for more than five minutes, when someone kicked my shoe with enough force to make my fingers curl up into a fist before the rest of me had a chance to react. I sat up, quickly closing my book, as I focused on the girl in front of me. She was unmistakable, even with the big sunglasses and hood pulled up covering her platinum hair. I sat back defeated already; she wasn’t willing to come forward and be honest if this is how she was in front of me: incognito.
Nothing about Addileigh screamed innocent, even before.
Her body was typically on display; her lips were poisonously red; and the D cups she sported weren’t any more real than the rest of her. She was head-to-toe fake to anyone who had experience enough to notice. I waited for her to speak, when all she did was jerk her head to the right, beckoning me to follow. I wasn’t inclined to do anything near her, but without her number, I was at her mercy that she would come to her senses and confess it wasn’t me.
I followed her in between the rows of books, anxious to hear what she wanted to say, but calm on the outside. She ripped the sunglasses from the bridge of her nose haphazardly in one motion, leaving strands of her hair to escape the hood.
“Look, I didn’t say anything to anyone.”
I took a giant step back when her words sounded a lot like I was the prof she was fucking, when I wasn’t. She walked deeper in the rows of books, away from me and further from the public safety.
“I mean, I didn’t say anything to anyone or about you. I keep my business private.”
Her phone went off loudly, making sure to send some kind of signal to everyone that people were in the stacks. Great, now we were sneaking around, giving in to the lies even more, and I couldn’t trust her to do what was right.
“Well, it isn’t private now, is it?”
She stared at me, waiting for me to say more when she was lucky I had spoken the amount I did. I didn’t entertain much, and these types of conversations weren’t my cup of tea, without a steeped pour of cruelty. I was holding back enough to convince her she needed to come clean.
“I know that now. I can’t say anything; it’s not that simple. He has a family and kids.”
My anger was building with her excuses.
“I have a girlfriend and a kid too, Addi. This will affect them just as much. You know we didn’t sleep together. Your sister is my ex for fuck’s sake.”
She held her wrist with her hand above her head and her arms resting on top of the hood she still had up—hiding even from me.
“I know. Fuck! I know, okay? I need time to think.”
I didn’t let up. I wanted her to feel guilty. All I ever heard about this girl was how much she’d make rash decisions and end up in a mess Elizabeth would have to clean up. She wanted a spotlight, but none of the consequences.
“You think he loves you? Why are you protecting him? He has a wif
e and kids, Addi. Is it for grades?”
Her eyes got glassy and turned a darker grey, as my cruelty came out on its own. Her arms fell to her side, and she looked up, like the theater major she was, trying to rein in her emotions, like a rogue weapon.
“It’s not about grades or getting perks.” She swallowed hard before making eye contact. Her eyes were serious and intense, instead of weepy and weak, like I expected when I saw her eyes glass over. “He does love me, but that’s not why I’m protecting him. It’s my fault he’s in this mess. He was part of my master list. I chose him, and I can’t let him go down for it.”
I slammed my hand against the empty shelf, making the palm of my hadn’t sting at her immaturity.
“But I can go down for your fucking list of bad girl behaviors, right?”
I didn’t wait for a response, when she whisper-shouted my name as I turned my back. I was done hashing it out or pushing her to do the right thing. It was already done, and her tunnel vision was protecting the prof fucking her on the weekdays, while he pretended to be a family man on the weekends. I grabbed my stuff, storming out of Intuition.
The whole way home I tried to convince myself that maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was time to cut the last tie holding me here in Amherst, two hours away from everyone I knew. I never really put much thought into leaving after I found out Jade really had my kid after all. It was convenient, because I was still a full-time student with TA classes to teach, and she had nowhere else to go. Routine had set in. We found a babysitter, and my parents were a stone toss away from us, in case I killed her for her smart-ass remarks in the middle of the night. It had all kept me stable and accountable while I got sober. Now I was under control and five years sober. I didn’t need any support when I was standing on my own—no crutches or lumpy lines to help me through.
I guess somewhere between getting sober long enough for it to earn my one-year chip and creating a routine, I could have uprooted us to Boston, where the rest of my life settled.
Maybe if I had considered it, Hunter wouldn’t have slipped into my empty spot in Layla’s heart.
“Maybes” didn’t change shit. Neither did “could haves”. Those were in the category of bad habits—there to soften the blow enough to change my behavior. I was sober now. I felt everything for every weight it was—heavy, painful, unsettling…
H unter was always at the center of my destruction. His hands would be clean, not doing any of his own dirty work, but you could almost always find him on the sidelines, watching me self-destruct.
He was dedicated to a long game I didn’t have the patience for, after Layla packed up and left, with only a few more sentences than Jade had. He got the result he wanted, I thought, but he didn’t stop, not until I realized that I was the end game—my destruction at his hands, from a far enough distance to watch me burn.
Just seeing his eyes twinkle with the lust of winning made my veins choke up with anger. I wanted to let my fists rearrange his features in a way that left him smirk-less. Now, he was holding Addi close, shielded from me putting together that he clearly used her to get to me, just like he had with Layla in college. I purposely pulled Layla under my arm, making it clear I wasn’t going to stop fighting back—not even after she was mine. I wasn’t stopping until he understood she would never not be mine. Even under him for five years, she was still mine, thinking of me with every sloppy thrust.
She whispered into my chest, while we waited for our coffees, “Who’s the girl claiming this?”
My eyebrows waved up and down in place of my words, before I turned us around so that she was facing the culprits—both of who spelled trouble in all capital letters, like a warning sign. I saw whatever soft spots she had for Hunter turn to stone, as her worried features turned to resentment. She was finally seeing Hunter’s true colors. She took her coffee off the countertop and marched over to him. I wasn’t going to stop her. Layla was full grown and a beautiful mix between brave and innocent. There was no stopping her, not even me.
We all watched, on the edge of excitement, waiting for her to finally cut off the guy who we all hated enough for her, but tolerated. She was too forgiving and accepting of the damaged souls, accepting their sins for them, because she could bear the weight they couldn’t.
She did it with me, except I was too stubborn to give into her the way I should have. I had to forgive myself first, and she had to learn to love herself.
I was a prime example of how healing her forgiveness really was. She took the crumbs left of me and glued them back together. I bet she didn’t even realize what she was doing. The innocence was in the driver’s seat, not caring if she became a self-sacrifice, as long as it was for the right reasons. It wasn’t until I pulled the clutch and made her more aware of how much further self-loathing, self-hatred, and reckless decisions could get you. I was her warning sign.
Hunter was every fucking speed bump in our way. He was a bad driving instructor and a faulty gas line. He was everything in the way of letting my foot bury the pedal feet and of taking off into the sunset with Layla.
I watched Layla stand in front of him, and without a word, she pulled the lid off her hot coffee and tossed the liquid in his face. I didn’t react the same way the Sinners did. Shock stretched out their faces, and laughter even filled the room. Instead, I kept my face still, stoic, and held up my coffee cup in the air in the same way he did in the bar before Layla and I fell apart— full fucking circle, excepting I was winning this time.
I was satisfied in a way that I never was with drugs or alcohol.
Addi shrieked as the liquid splattered her with guilt by association. Hunter’s arms were wide and questioning Layla’s every intention without speaking, until he could move past the shock himself. I stayed back, letting Layla soak up the moment all to herself, but I was still on guard, ready to jump in if she needed me to. She was never going to be mine until she let him go. There wasn’t enough room for both of us in her heart, and she knew unrequited love was something neither of us could handle with grace.
“What the fuck, Layla? That’s fucking hot coffee!”
“You were in on it with her? Did you think getting him fired would stop me from loving him?”“
Hunter looked at me with a type of darkness I never even saw on him when my fist first collided with his face enough to break his nose. He borderline enjoyed that.
His gaze dropped back to Layla, and when he reached out for her hands, she stepped back—a strong “no” he heard that time.
“You can’t be serious, Layla. He’s fucking grinning behind you. Obviously, this is what he wants.”
She pulled back even more, unsatisfied with his response. “This was always a game, wasn’t it? I gave you a second chance to be the person I knew you could be—not the villain every loves to hate.”
He tried to grasp onto her, any way he could, but their quick movements turned still, as the slap of her palm against his skin vibrated in the air. I automatically walked towards her, slinging my arm across her shoulders and kissing her temple, as I turned her away from him. I looked back only to see Addi pawing at him with her eyes red and something else living just under her skin… remorse?
I had no sympathy for her, no Hail Mary was gonna cover this mistake.
Layla had just learned a valuable lesson that we all learned a long time ago: not every break is worth the pain. That’s what brought us together as the Sinners: we all knew that.
I whispered into her hair, “Not everyone deserves forgiveness.”
No one cared if Hunter was guilty or not. He fit the profile; his priors screamed criminal; and he wasn’t denying conspiracy to commit larceny… of Layla’s heart.
I ordered more coffees and watched Addi poorly attempt to cover the embarrassment on her face as she and Hunter left, thick as thieves. It made me wonder how I offended Addi, or was she simply blinded by his love and willing to do anything to keep it hers?
Everyone knew Hunter only had eyes for Layla. Addi was on
ly begging for more source material for her acting.
Layla immediately apologized to the quiet group of Sinners, balancing out the brave.
Caden handed her a new coffee and patted her shoulder, before we took our old seats—the ones we all chose when we went to school there. “Where was that Layla in college? Damn.”
Liz linked arms with her, and I looked for any displaced loyalty in her face, knowing she liked the attention Hunter gave her—another bad boy who fell at her charm. I couldn’t find anything on her face, but worry for her troublesome sister. The only times I ever heard her talk about her sister was in a protective way that made me wonder why her parents didn’t take that role.
Hayley was still buzzed. Her sleepy eyes fluttered as she opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. The motor skills of speaking and looking were too difficult to muster at the moment, thanks to the amount of alcohol she drank before arriving. Hayley never got buzzed. She was a social drinker, only having a beer if someone else was. No one spiked their coffee, so it begged questions I didn’t like asking.
“Liz, what’s up with your sister? She didn’t even talk to you.”
“I don’t know. She’s hot and cold. She texted me to come down here, but didn’t tell me why. I had to connect the dots myself.”
I leaned back, downing the rest of my coffee, listening like I always did. I took more in than I ever said; that never changed. Sober or not. Layla or not. Arson or not. I was me.
Layla pleaded out loud, “How could they believe her? I mean, it’s obviously not true.”
Hayley jumped in, letting the booze talk for her, “It’s just like Palmer; people always believe the pretty girls—the girls with everything. Why would they make shit up?”
I wasn’t ready to unpack-age the amount of sarcasm and hate between each word. We all were neck deep in problems, but not saying anything. This wasn’t normal for us. I had enough of it. I expected more from them—brutal honesty, not whatever the fuck this was. I slid forward in my seat, looking directly at Hayley. “I know you all raced here to be supportive, but when are we gonna stop tip-toeing around everyone’s shit? We don’t keep shit from each other, and we certainly don’t pretend life is peachy. It isn’t and probably won’t ever be, but we’re a fucking family of Sinners.”