by Nicole Casey
“It was inevitable that they got at one another sooner or later,” Mal continued, taking a sip of his beer. “But at least they waited until the wedding was official.”
He was still talking about our parents still but I was struggling to maintain the heat rising in my face. I didn’t want him to see my face turning crimson but it was becoming difficult to hide.
I still didn’t say anything and followed his lead, pressing the straw to my lips and sucking back the drink easily.
I couldn’t even taste the vodka.
“Are you still standing here?” Beth demanded from the top landing. “What’s wrong?”
I had completely zoned out, staring after nothing and Beth had apparently already gone to and returned from the bathroom.
“Yeah…I just thought I saw someone I knew,” I muttered, striding up the steps to meet her.
It was just a stupid, drunken kiss six months ago. What do you want to bet that Mal doesn’t even remember it?
Ugh. I needed to stop. I couldn’t believe it had happened at all but as I overanalyzed it like I did everything, I knew that it had only occurred as a way for both of us to outlet our frustration. Mal certainly had no interest in me romantically and it didn’t matter how attractive I found him, there was no way I would ever entertain dating someone like Malcolm Laurier.
Or maybe I had just told myself that knowing that there was no way he would entertain dating someone like me.
He’d be no different than Chance Edwards, trying to pop my cherry. I can only imagine what that locker room conversation would sound like.
I cringed at the memory. I had been uninhibited enough in that coatroom at the wedding to have let it gone further than it did, a combination of the alcohol and the hate bond we shared overwhelming my common sense. Had I just gone there with Mal to stick it to my family in some childish way, half-hoping to get caught and cause another scene? That would be a play right out of my mom’s playbook, after all.
If the coat check guy hadn’t come back when he did, I would have been regretting a lot more those days than I already did.
But it did explain why I kept thinking I saw Mal everywhere after the wedding, even in California.
Ironically, I didn’t see him once in Sterling when I went home over the holidays, not even in my mind. I’d thought the hallucinations were done. I guess I was wrong.
We made our way into the auditorium which was already filled with students, ready to sleep though Peterson’s lecture and found seats near the center of the room.
“Okay people,” Prof Peterson intoned from the podium. “Settle down.”
“He’s wasting his talents teaching oceanography. He should be a hypnotist,” Beth muttered and several of the students around us tittered at her comment. It was a good observation. I could already feel my lids getting heavy and the man hadn’t even started speaking.
“Probably more money in it,” someone nearby added and we chuckled again. The students were all getting into mocking the unsuspecting prof.
“He’s a walking cadaver. I swear he’s a vampire.”
“More like the Grim Reaper. I can feel my soul being sucked right out of me as we sit here.”
My blood ran cold. I recognized that last voice and my head whipped around to stare into the smoky grey eyes of Malcolm Laurier who sat two rows back, encircled in a flock of admirers as always.
Quickly, I jerked my head back. He hadn’t seen me, I didn’t think. Or if he did, he made no outward comment.
I hadn’t been imagining it—I had seen him and now he was in the same breathing space as me.
“Are you quite finished with your giggling up there on the left?” Peterson snapped in our direction and everyone stopped snickering in unison. I sank into my seat, wanting to disappear entirely but of course I couldn’t be that lucky.
What was he doing here? Visiting? He sure as hell hadn’t been in that lecture hall before—I would have noticed for sure.
I thought of all the times I had thought I’d seen him on campus and suddenly I was mortified.
I had no idea whether he’d decided to go to college or if he had gone anywhere although I was sure he had. The man was our high school’s golden boy after all. But had he come to Berkeley?
More humiliation filled my face. It wasn’t like we’d done much talking at the wedding or before.
But we stuck our tongues down each other’s throats just fine.
The campus was huge—it wouldn’t be strange to have overlooked him for three months…would it?
I was so confused and I eyed Beth whose eyes were already growing hazy as Peterson began his lecture.
“Beth,” I hissed. She glanced at me.
“What?”
“Do you know that guy, two rows back? The dark haired one with the intense grey eyes?”
She looked behind her and I stifled a groan. I hadn’t wanted her to look but it was too late now.
“Uh…he looks familiar. I think I’ve seen him around the dorm. Damn! He’s sexy!”
Her voice was much louder than it should have been and there was another round of light laughter. I silently prayed to any god who might be available that the floor swallow me whole.
“You know him?” Beth asked hopefully. I shook my head curtly but kept my eyes firmly planted on the podium. I didn’t want to risk even the slightest chance that I might catch Mal’s gaze in my view. If he hadn’t seen me before, thanks to Beth, he’d certainly seen me now.
All I could do was figure out a plan to escape the hall without having to speak one word to him.
Because I had been thrust into another dimension, some parallel world where Malcolm Laurier attended Berkeley, Peterson’s sermon flew by for the first time ever and he was done before I even knew what had happened.
“That was extra brutal,” Beth chirped, rising from her chair. “You coming?”
I didn’t move. I wanted to make sure Mal left first.
God, what if he’s waiting for me? What will I say to him?
“In a minute,” I muttered, slowly turning my head. I was sure that he’d be waiting in the aisle, staring at me with that lazy smirk which made me want to punch his face but to my shock, he was gone, along with his flock.
He hadn’t even noticed me.
Disappointment flooded me and I swallowed the weird lump in my throat.
But why should he notice me? He’s still the same jerk he was in high school, kiss or no kiss, in-law or not. He’s still the same guy I’ve always hated.
Screw Mal. Whatever he was doing at Berkeley had nothing to do with me. Nothing had changed, even if he was a student there. I’d just have to learn how to avoid him.
4
Mal
Ten and a Half Years Ago
College was an even busier version of high school and it felt like the minute I blinked, my first year was over. I was that much closer to getting my bachelor’s degree, despite all the temptations around me.
There had been the invitation to join the prestigious Kappa Alpha Order and Phi Psi but after considering it, I knew I had enough on my plate with my course load and soccer practices. It bothered me that there was no men’s rugby team but I’d settled with my second passion. I needed an outlet for my energy after all.
My days were full of classes, from eight until four at which point I would go home and study until practice at six. Thankfully, my nights were still free to pursue my extra-curricular activities for the most part. And the girls were amazing in California.
I hadn’t gone home for Christmas, something that had bothered my parents deeply but I didn’t want Ella and Grayson to dampen the excitement of my new life. I knew inherently that I would get sucked into their drama and it would ruin my streak of contentment.
And maybe there was another reason too…
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I thought about the make out session that Blake Mavis and I had shared in the coatroom at Ella’s wedding. I hadn’t expected it and I know she had probably fe
lt dirty afterward, not in a violated way but the same way I did—like we’d each betrayed our families for going there. I don’t know why we’d done it except that we were both a little tipsy and both irritated with the situation. Not that I remembered much of what we talked about but it was clear that Blake wasn’t any happier about the marriage than I was.
In any case, I didn’t want to risk running into her in Sterling. It was weird enough that it had happened in the first place. There was no need to revisit the issue with awkwardness where we either pretend it never happened or hung our heads with embarrassment when we saw one another.
Then why was it I secretly hoped to see Blake again? Sometimes, when I was jogging across campus from one building to another, I would do a double take, thinking I saw her but of course she wasn’t there.
Actually, I had no idea where she might have gone to school. It wasn’t like we were friends or even had mutual friends. If not for what had happened at the wedding, I probably would never have given Blake another thought.
If only she didn’t look so much like Britney Spears…
Yeah, so what if I still had a thing for Britney Spears? So sue me.
“You’re coming tonight, right?” Melissa demanded, tugging on my arm. “You promised.”
I nodded even though I really had no interest in going to the sorority party that night. But Melissa was right, I had promised. I’d avoided enough of her house gigs and she was getting annoyed with me.
“Yeah. I’m just packing up some stuff to bring home but I’ll meet you there,” I told her.
She smiled and winked, her slightly crooked front teeth flashing.
“Or…” she purred. “I can help you pack.”
She eyed me suggestively and I grunted. I couldn’t help it. She was just so pushy and I found it such a turnoff.
It was easy to see why she was so popular—she was a cute redhead whose makeup was always perfectly in place. But that was the thing. She was always perfect—never a hair out of place. Even during sex. It was unnerving like she was a mannequin or something.
“No,” I replied quickly. “I need to call my parents and make arrangements for my flight.”
“I can be really quiet,” she purred, stepping closer to me. Her hand cupped my balls a little too roughly and I jumped.
“Jesus, Mel! Take a breather. I just want some downtime, okay?”
Her smile faded and she stepped back to glare at me.
“Wow,” she snapped. “I’m just trying to help, Malcolm. You don’t need to be an ass.”
She folded her arms over her chest and waited for me to apologize but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. We’d been seeing each other for three months and I was fairly certain she had a small harem of fuck boys on the side. We’d never claimed to be exclusive and in that moment, I was grateful for it because the thought of coming back to deal with her after the summer was making me slightly nauseous.
“I can’t help but be an ass,” I replied turning to continue walking. “It’s in my blood.”
She scoffed but to my chagrin, she hurried to catch up with me.
So damned pushy. Most women would have taken the hint and disappeared already. Not Melissa.
“I’ll just stay for a bit before the party and—”
“Melissa, if you don’t let me go,” I warned. “I’m not coming to the party tonight.”
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded, her voice rising with anger. “Are you gay or something?”
I laughed, not remotely offended by the jibe. She knew better than anyone I wasn’t into men. She was just trying to start a fight but I wasn’t taking the bait. If anything, she was giving me a great cause to get rid of her before I returned to Sterling for the summer.
I turned to her and stared at her seriously.
“Yes, Mel. You discovered my secret. I am hopelessly attracted to men,” I told her solemnly. “I’m so glad I could come clean with you.”
Her face turned red with anger and, to my added amusement, she stomped her foot like a toddler on the ground.
“Shut up, Malcolm!” she howled. “I don’t understand you at all. You’re hot and cold like a faucet.”
She wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand me. I wasn’t sure I understood myself. I mean, Melissa had seemed exciting enough at first and she had a mouth that wouldn’t quit but unsurprisingly, she bored me like all the rest of the girls I’d known in high school. In high school, I hadn’t cared as much, even though I knew I was just killing time with my string of girlfriends. There had never been a future with any of them but I was in college now. It was time to stop screwing around.
Sometimes I thought that the conversation I’d had with Ella when I’d heard about her engagement had stuck in my mind more than I realized. Maybe I wanted what she had…without all the drama that she and Grayson shared.
Or maybe I just needed to be on my own without the endless barrage of flesh which seemed to have paraded through my life since I’d first realized that the opposite sex found me irresistible.
Whatever the reason, the thought of wasting another second with Melissa was becoming insurmountable.
“You’re right,” I told her. “I’m not acting very consistently. I should be clearer with how I’m feeling.”
Her unsuspecting face softened and she nodded. Pretty she was, bright, not so much.
“That would be nice,” she replied haughtily. “I’m sick of guessing what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking that you should go back to Jason Burgess or Vic O’Connor and ask them to join you at the sorority mixer tonight.”
Melissa’s mouth parted in shock.
“What?”
“I think we’ve had our fun, Melissa but let’s face it—this isn’t going anywhere.”
“B-but Mal! We n-never said we weren’t seeing other people!” she cried indignantly. “It’s not like I was cheating on you with them!”
“I never said you were,” I replied and I wasn’t mad about the other guys, not really. I mean no man wants to hear that the girl he’s banging has others on the side but that was more about my ego than it was jealousy or any kind of affection for Melissa.
“Then why are you being like this?” she squealed and to my dismay, I saw tears in her eyes.
“Oh man,” I muttered. “Don’t cry, Melissa. It’s not personal.”
I really didn’t want to see her cry, even if she did drive me crazy.
“NOT PERSONAL?” she screamed. I wished she’d keep the histrionics to a minimum. I could feel people stopping to look at us as they walked past.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say you want to be exclusive and instead, you’re dumping me?”
I shrugged.
“It’s not really dumping if we were never together,” I argued technically, using her own semantics. She scoffed but to her credit, she didn’t cry. I exhaled.
“You really are an asshole, Malcolm Laurier. I hope your dick falls off.”
With that, she spun and stormed away, leaving me to exhale in relief. It had gone better than I had hoped. I would have relished my small victory if when I looked up, I wasn’t staring into a pair of all-too familiar brown eyes. The look of bemusement was unmistakable and I groaned aloud. It looked like she’d overheard the entire conversation.
Instantly, Blake looked away and started to walk across the quad. Before I could stop myself, I yelled out after her, running to catch up.
“Blake? What the hell are you doing here?”
She slowed her gait but didn’t stop, her fingers curling tightly around the straps of her bookbag.
“I’m on my way home,” she muttered but that didn’t really answer my question.
“What? No, I mean what are you doing in Berkeley?”
She finally stopped walking and looked at me, a grimace forming on her face.
“I go to school here,” Blake replied. It occurred to me then that she didn’t seem remotely surprised to have seen me there.
>
“Did you know I go here too?” I asked dubiously. It was bizarre that she wouldn’t have at least said hi in passing or made her presence known before that.
She really doesn’t like me.
That stung a little.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I saw you back in January at a lecture once but you never went back.”
It took me a minute to know what she was talking about.
“Oceanography with old man Peterson,” I recalled slowly. “I was…uh, auditing the course.”
That wasn’t true. I was auditing Simone Jennings by showing her how “interested” I was in her field of study. Marine biology was not on my roster until Year 3.
“Yeah right,” Blake snorted. “Auditing a science class. That sounds like something you’d be doing.”
I blinked at her uncomprehendingly.
“What does that mean?”
She arched an eyebrow in amusement.
“Never mind. I don’t have time to explain things to you. I’ll leave that to your private tutors. I have to get packed.”
“Explain things to me?” I laughed but I was bubbling with anger. She thought I was a dumb jock. I’d graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA. My major was chemistry.
“I’d say nice seeing you,” she mumbled as she turned away. “But then I’d be lying.”
I reached out to grab her arm, something I was beginning to feel like I did every time I saw her.
“Blake, what happened at the wedding—”
“Please!” she cried, her face paling. “Don’t bring that up. It was stupid and I was drunk. I know it’s in your nature to whip it out at every opportunity.”
I bristled.
“You didn’t seem to be fighting me off,” I reminded her and she flushed crimson.
“Like I said, Malcolm, I have a flight to get ready for. Have a good college career. There’s no need to talk to me if you see me around.”
“Wait!” I cried, wishing I hadn’t but it was too late to eat the words now.
God, let her go! What’s wrong with you?