I'm Over It (Kihanna in College #2)

by Mercy Amare

“Do you remember what we ate on our very first date?” I ask him.

  “Sushi,” he answers. “That was a pretty epic first date.”

  “Agree,” I say. “Let’s do Indian food tonight.”

  “Sounds good,” Ty says.

  We only drive about half a mile from campus before arriving at an Indian restaurant. It’s a ‘hole in the wall’ kind of place, but in my experience those usually end up being the best. Besides, tonight isn’t about good food. It’s about hanging out with Ty. Like, actually hanging out, and not having sex.

  When Ty parks his car, I reach for the door handle, but Ty grabs my hand to stop me.

  “No. I’m going to open your door,” he says.

  “I’m quite capable of opening my own door.”

  “I know,” he says. “It’s just... everything I own right now is because of your dad. Basically, I’m taking you on a date with your dad’s money, which I will pay back when I turn twenty one. But chivalry is free, and it’s the one thing I can do for you to show you how much I care about you. That is why I’m opening your door.”

  Ty gets out of the car and I’m sitting there completely speechless.

  I always knew Ty was romantic. He was the first time I dated him. I guess dating Gabe for so long, I’m not used to a chivalrous guy. Not that Gabriel is rude, but he’s definitely not the romantic type. He’s never bought me flowers, taken me out on a proper date or opened my door. Ty is pretty much spoiling me and any guy I date will have a lot to measure up to. Though, maybe that’s the point. If a guy truly wants to be with me, he should have to work for it. I’m worth it. Every female is.

  Ty opens my door, and holds out his hand. I grab it and he helps me out of the car.

  And I feel like a princess.

  This is how a guy is supposed to treat a girl.

  He doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk towards the door.

  “Next time we go out, I am going to plan ahead,” Ty says. “I want to sweep you off your feet.”

  “You already are,” I say.

  “I’m serious,” he says. “I want to plan an epic date, and that takes longer than a few minutes.”

  “Well, I guess you will just have to ask me out in advance next time.”

  “Do you want to go out next Friday?” he asks.

  I grin at him. “Hey, let’s get through this date before you ask me out again. This date might completely suck, then you won’t want to go out with me again.”

  “That is highly unlikely, considering I’ve known you over a year. I’ve dated you before. I know everything about you—the good and the bad.”

  I laugh. “The bad?”

  “You’re a commitment phobe with a crazy family,” Ty says.

  “Hey, my family isn’t crazy,” I say.

  “No, I guess compared to my family, yours is pretty normal.”

  “My family is your family,” I tell him.

  “I like that,” he says. “I definitely needed a family do-over.”

  Yeah, he does. Poor Ty. I feel bad about all the things that’ve happened to him—watching his mom murdered right in front of him, having a shitty excuse for a dad, and then having his dad nearly kill him. It’s a lot to take in.

  We walk inside and the waitress leads us to a table in the corner. We order our food, and talk while we sit and wait.

  Surprisingly, I don’t feel panicked.

  Maybe Ty is right. Maybe I can focus on the right now instead of always worrying about the future. And right now, I definitely like having Ty in my life as more than just a friend. Not my boyfriend, but more than a friend.

  Sunday, November 7

  8 a.m.

  Somebody was being naughty.

  I went out with Ty and the night didn’t end with me in his bed.

  I also had a really, really good time. We ate dinner, went to see a movie, and then stayed up way too late talking in the living room. Then, at the end of the night, we both went to our separate bedrooms.

  It should feel weird going home to the same place after a date, but it doesn’t. Ty has lived with my family for a while, and it just feels right to live here with him.

  When I wake up the next morning, Gabe is sitting in the living room watching the sports channel. I decide right then that I need some alone time. I go out to grab some coffee. There is a nice coffee shop about two blocks away from the apartment, so I skip my car and just walk there.

  It’s such a beautiful day. The high is 67 degrees and the wind is blowing. I zip up my hoodie, and think that if I was back in St. Louis, it would probably be in the 30’s or 40’s right now.

  As I am walking, a piece of paper blows up at my feet. I am about to step over it when I see that the paper has a picture of me on it. I bend down and pick it up.

  It’s a picture of Andrea and me at the party on Friday night. I am licking the salt off her when I was doing the body shot. The memory is pretty hazy, but it obviously happened.

  I flip the picture around and see that there is writing on the back.

  Somebody was being naughty. I wonder what daddy would think if he saw this.

  I look around to see if I can spot Brian, but there is nobody in sight. There are a few cars driving by, but other than that I am alone. I shove the piece of paper into the pocket of my hoodie and walk at a faster pace, but I refuse to let the note get to me. Not here. If Brian is watching, I want him to see that I’m stronger than I was a year ago. And I am stronger, but I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I’m ready to break.

  A few seconds later, I walk into the coffee shop and order a latte. Once it’s ready, I grab my cup and sit in a chair in the corner. I pull out my phone and call Toby. Brian isn’t in here, so there is no way that he can hear my conversation. I need a moment to freak out and then pull myself back together before I walk home.

  Toby answers on the second ring.

  “Why you call so early on a weekend morning?” he asks when he answers the phone.

  “Boohoo, it’s almost 9,” I say, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Besides, I need my big brother right now.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Stupid Brian,” I say. “First, I guess I should tell you, I went to a party on Friday night. It was a frat house, and I may have gotten a little bit drunk.”

  I swear I can hear him grinning through the phone. “Wow. You, drunk. I can already tell this is going to be an interesting story.”

  I roll my eyes. “So Andrea and I were partying together and somehow I ended up doing a body shot off her. I don’t remember much except there was a huge group of guys standing around us. And we almost kissed, but thankfully Ty stopped me.”

  “Why did he stop you?” Toby asks.

  “Because it would’ve been a stupid decision to kiss her,” I answer. “I definitely would have regretted it.”

  “Wish I had been there to see it,” he says.

  “Ugh,” I groan. “Can I please finish my story?”

  “Yes, sorry. Continue.”

  “A few minutes ago, when I was walking to grab some coffee, a piece of paper blew up at my feet. It was a picture of me, licking Andrea—.”

  Toby cuts me off. “I want this picture.”

  I ignore his snide comment. “On the back it says, ‘Somebody was being naughty. I wonder what daddy would think if he saw this.’ And I’m kind of freaking out.”

  “Where are you at?”

  “The coffee shop,” I answer.

  “Who is with you?” he asks.

  “Nobody.”

  “You can’t just go somewhere by yourself. It’s not safe,” Toby says, scolding me.

  “Toby, I am eighteen years old and I am in college,” I say. “I can’t just depend on other people to go places with me. I need independence. I can’t let Brian take my freedom away from me.”

  “At least call Ty or Gabe and have them come get you. Please,” he says.

  I want to say no, but I know Toby is just looking out for
me.

  “Fine, I will,” I say.

  “Good,” he says. “Anything else going on?”

  “Not really,” I answer. “I went on a date with Ty last night. And he asked me out again next weekend.”

  “Ty Newman?” Toby asks.

  “Do you know anybody else named Ty?”

  “No, I just thought you were done with him,” he says. “I can’t really keep up anymore.”

  “If I was there, I would throw something at you right now. It’s not like I go through a lot of guys. I’ve had three boyfriends in my life. I’d say that’s pretty good considering I’m eighteen years old.”

  “So, Ty is your boyfriend?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “He’s definitely not. I’m so not ready to be in a relationship. But we are dating.”

  “That’s really sweet,” Toby says. “I know that he’s in love with you and he will make you happy. You should always follow your heart.”

  “When did you get so sentimental?”

  “When I realized how short life is,” he says. “I just texted Ty. He’s on his way to get you now.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “You’re welcome,” he says, then pauses. “Kihanna, be safe.”

  “I will.”

  “Love you, little sis.”

  “You too,” I say, then end the call.

  Toby is the best brother ever.

  Monday, November 8

  12 p.m.

  F.

  I got an F.

  F.

  I’ve never gotten an F in my life, and yet, here it is on my test in red.

  Okay, so I haven’t been doing great in college algebra all semester. I’ve kept a B average in the class, but mostly because I always do my homework. I’ve made a few C’s on my test, but managed to get an A on my midterm after pulling a couple of all-nighters.

  Finals are coming up, and now I’m worried. I obviously haven’t learned what I was supposed to. While everybody else is moving forward, I will be stuck on this one lesson and be left behind. My head hurts just thinking about it. So, after class, I go up to my teacher, Mrs. Rice.

  Mrs. Rice is young, only in her mid-thirties, and she’s petite. She has a nice smile, and she genuinely didn’t seem scary at first. But then, on the second day of class, somebody showed up two minutes late.

  Two.

  Minutes.

  And Mrs. Rice refused to let them come into the classroom.

  I, being a college freshman, was shocked. I didn’t think teachers could do that. But apparently, they can. And Mrs. Rice has thrown many people out of her classroom—a few people for texting, one girl who fell asleep, one guy who talked to the person beside him. I’m pretty sure that guy was just asking to borrow a pencil.

  Needless to say, she’s strict. And as I walk towards the front of the classroom, I can’t help but feel nervous about talking to her.

  “Mrs. Rice,” I says, approaching her desk.

  She looks up. “Yes?”

  “I’m Kihanna,” I say, just in case she doesn’t know.

  “I know who you are. You’re the only one who hasn’t missed my class this year. You also do your homework,” she says.

  I grin, because I think what she said was a compliment. “The reason I wanted to talk to you is because of my latest test. I got an F...”

  “You’re definitely not strong in math,” she says. “But you’re a bright girl.”

  “I just really want to do well in this class. Midterms are coming up—”

  She cuts me off. “Even if you fail your midterms, you will pass this class.”

  “Well, I want to pass with a good grade.”

  “I’ll let you re-take the test,” she says, then writes down something on a piece of paper. “Here is the number of a tutor. Set up a session for today. I’ll let you retake the test on Wednesday. I don’t often give second chances, so please don’t take it lightly. I will know if you didn’t study.”

  She holds out the paper and I take it from her. “Thank you.”

  With that, Mrs. Rice turns back to whatever she was doing before I walked up.

  I leave, feeling one hundred times better.

  Being a good student does pay off.

  Once I am outside of the building, I decide to go ahead and give the tutor a call. Somebody answers on the second ring.

  “Hello,” a male voice answers.

  “Hey, umm... Mrs. Rice gave me this number. I need a tutor,” I say. “I need one today, because I get to re-take a test on Wednesday.”

  “Which math class are you in?” he asks.

  “College algebra.”

  “Okay,” he says. “My only opening today is at five o’clock.”

  “That works for me.”

  “Cool,” he says, then tells me which library on campus to meet him at.

  As soon as we hang up the phone, I get a text from Micah.

  Micah: Hey. You free? Chelsea and Simon miss you. So do I ;). I thought maybe you could come watch us practice.

  Me: What time? I have tutoring at 5.

  Micah: Tutoring? What subject?

  Me: College algebra. Apparently, I suck at math.

  Micah: You should’ve come to me. My major is business. I rock at math. College algebra is easy for me.

  Me: Lucky you.

  Micah: Practice is at 5 tonight, so I guess I’ll take another raincheck.

  Me: Definitely. Sorry.

  Another text comes through, and I think it’s Micah.

  It’s not.

  Blocked ID: Poor Micah. You shouldn’t lead him on like that.

  What the—?

  How does this person know what I was just texting to Micah? Is my phone bugged? How? I just got a new one, and I haven’t set it down anywhere. My phone is literally always with me.

  Maybe Gabe would know. He’s a phone genius. He was able to check his ex-girlfriend’s text messages. Maybe he can explain it. I look at the time on my phone. It’s almost one. Gabe’s class should be letting out soon, then he’ll be heading home. I guess I will just talk to him then.

  After that, I’m getting a new phone.

  Because, seriously.

  This sucks.

  1 p.m.

  Complicated.

  When I get back to the apartment, Gabe is there.

  With a girl.

  Gabriel is sitting on the couch with his arm draped around a pretty blonde girl.

  “Kihanna, hey,” he says casually. “This is Amber. Amber, this is my roommate, Kihanna.”

  His roommate? Really? That is how he’s going to introduce me?

  Amber smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  I’m sure it is.

  I don’t acknowledge her, and instead turn to Gabe. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

  Gabe looks at me, then at Amber, then at me again. “Yeah, okay.”

  He gets up from the couch and follows me back into my bedroom. I shut the door because I don’t want Amber to hear what I’m saying. The last thing I want is for this blonde bimbo to find out about what’s going on and sell the story to some magazine.

  “First of all, what the hell is she doing here?” I ask him.

  “Amber?”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course, Amber.”

  He shrugs. “We have a class together. I invited her over to hangout.”

  “Are you forgetting about Brian?” I ask.

  “What does Brian have to do with me asking a girl to come over?” he asks.

  “First of all, I don’t want her here. Stuff that goes on in this apartment is private and I don’t want any media outlets finding out. I haven’t even told my dad, because if I do then I will have to go back home,” I say. “And second, you don’t know that Brian won’t kill her.”

  “What reason does Brian Asher have to kill Amber?” Gabe asks.

  “I don’t know,” I answer. “But he could. You don’t know that he won’t.”

  “You sou
nd jealous.”

  “Of her?” I ask.

  Gabe nods.

  “I’m not,” I say quickly.

  “Well, if you’re done being jealous, I do have a guest,” he says.

  “Actually, I needed to talk to you for a reason,” I say. “And stop calling me jealous, because I’m not.”

  “Whatever you say,” he says.

  “My phone is being hacked,” I say. “Brian sent me a text earlier and he knew everything that I had just said to Micah via text message.”

  “Brian’s not that smart,” Gabe says.

  “Well, he obviously is smart enough. Brian is smarter than we give him credit for. I mean, he stalked me for nine months, and was dating me for three of those months,” I say. “Who are we to say he’s not smart enough to hack my phone.”

  “I am saying he’s not smart enough,” he says. “Not alone.”

  I groan. “No, not this again. Don’t say he’s working with somebody else.”

  “Give me your phone,” Gabe says.

  I pull it out of my pocket it and hand it to him. As soon as it’s in his hand, he reaches for the door handle.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “To tell Amber to leave and then I’m going to figure out how he did this,” Gabe answers.

  “Do you need help?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Do you really think you can help me?”

  “No, probably not.”

  “Exactly,” he says. “Stay here. Ty will be here soon. I’m going to my dad’s office.”

  “But that’s an hour away from here.”

  “I’ve got a car,” he says.

  I sigh. “Why are you helping me? I mean, I dumped you. And I wasn’t exactly nice about it.”

  Not that Gabe was nice either, but I shouldn’t keep score. He has done more for me than I can ever repay. I should have definitely been nicer. Though, no matter what the situation, breakups suck.