My god he’s adorable. I want to squeeze him.
I was about to answer yes when I glanced over his shoulder and saw Leah hovering in the doorway of the cafeteria. Our eyes locked and my answer changed.
Shifting my gaze back on Risher, I said, “Can I have a rain check? I’m really beat. I think I’m going to go throw on my pj’s, study for a while, and go to bed early.”
“Oh yeah, I understand. I should probably go check on Chuck anyway. Make sure he hasn’t eaten his entire weight in meat.”
Disappointment took over his expression. I hated to be the cause of it, but was excited that he really wanted to spend more time with me.
Neither of us made a move to leave.
“We seem to be stuck.” I teased.
Risher shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I want to make sure you get inside the dorm safely.”
I turned and walked to the entrance of the dorm. Before heading inside, I waved at Risher who still hadn’t moved. This real boy was so much dreamier than the ones in my head.
I found Abigail back in the room, stretched out on her bed with her open laptop.
“Hey,” I said.
Her body jerked in surprise as she quickly closed the laptop.
I flopped back on my bed.
“Rough first day?” Abigail’s voice had a slight tremor to it.
“Classes were fine. It’s just… nothing.” I propped myself up on my elbows. “By the way, where have you been?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were gone before I got up this morning, you were a no-show in class, and I didn’t see you once during the day on campus.”
“I dropped that class.”
“Why?”
“Because I hate math and I’m horrible at it.”
“You have to take some type of math if you want to graduate. It’s a core class.”
“We just got here. I’m not even thinking about graduation yet. I’ll take a regular old run-of-the-mill math class to fulfill the requirement. Besides, I only signed up for that specific class because my dad wouldn’t let it go.”
I hadn’t been around my roommate for very long, but the more I was, the more confused I became. She was a college freshman who dressed in clothes her mom picked out for her and signed up for classes her dad wanted her to take. The confusing part was that Abigail didn’t strike me as a conformist. Maybe the reason she did these things was due to the guilt she felt for having cancer. I still felt guilty for putting my parents through so much pain. The fact that it hadn’t been my fault was beside the point. One reason it was so hard to make the decision about coming to Chambers was because I didn’t want my parents to worry about me. They had already had a lifetime of worry forced on them and I didn’t want to be the cause for anymore.
I lay back down on my bed. “Did you like the classes you did go to?”
“They were okay.”
“Meet anyone?”
“Like who?”
This girl was a master at deflecting. She answered most of my questions with ones of her own.
I blew out an irritated breath. “Just anyone, Abigail. Professors… classmates… staff.”
“No one that made a lasting impression.”
She walked over to her closet. The closets were next to each other, on my side of the room, and small, but it was nice not having to share.
“I’m going to take a shower.” She got her pink suitcase and rolled it into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
#weird
DURING THE WEEK that followed a routine developed.
Class.
Risher watching.
Studying.
Abigail puzzling.
Eating.
Leah dodging.
Sleeping.
Repeat.
I hadn’t made any progress in the get to know your roomie department. I basically saw Abigail at night after I’d come back from eating dinner. We’d chat a little bit about superficial things, but otherwise she kept to herself. She wasn’t a bad roommate. She wasn’t a good roommate. She was just neutral.
Getting used to college life, not to mention the early morning wakeup calls I’d set for myself, had taken its toll. Being home schooled my senior year had had its perks. One of them being, going to class dressed in sweats or my pj’s with no makeup on whenever the mood struck me. Deep down I knew I shouldn’t complain. There were people in the world who had to deal with worse things than slathering on thick makeup. It wasn’t so much the extra time it took to get ready, but the constant reminder of that moment in my past that altered my future.
Since I was caught up on homework, my big plans for the first weekend at college consisted of hiding away in my room, dressed in sweats, no makeup, eating, sleeping, and binge watching Ansel Elgort. I still hadn’t discussed or shown my scars to Abigail. She rarely graced me with her presence, so I was safe going au naturel for the next two days.
I lay in bed enjoying not having to get up and be somewhere. Rolling over on my back, I stretched my arms over my head, as the sunlight seeped in underneath my closed eyes. I was about to drift back to sleep when the light faded to gray and I felt a stare. My eyes shot open to find Abigail looking down at me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled, grabbing the edge of my comforter and yanking it over my face.
“I’m… um…,” she stammered.
Every other morning for the past week, she’d been out of here before I woke up. I waited for her to explain why she had picked today to become a creeper.
“I didn’t mean to… I was walking to my closet and… I’m sorry.”
Peeking over the edge of the comforter, I said, “Why are you still standing there? You want another eyeful of the freak?”
She winced at the last word. Our eyes locked for a brief moment before her gaze fell.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like a fr… freak. I’d never do that, Hollis.” Her voice was a mixture of sorrow and apology.
“Would you step back, please?”
“Sure.” She walked to her closet and grabbed the damn pink suitcase.
I had lost so much control over my life this past year and was just now feeling as if I were gaining some of it back. It was important to me to show my scars to Abigail or anyone else on my terms. When I was ready. I hated that she stole that from me.
I threw back the comforter, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and glared as she awkwardly rolled the suitcase out of the closet.
“Since apparently this is sharing Saturday, how about you take a whack at it.”
She froze. “Um… I don’t have anything to share.”
“Oh, but I think you do.”
“Like what?” she mumbled.
Tapping my index finger to my chin, I sarcastically said, “Let’s see… Hmm… Where do you go every morning? What’s with the wig? How did you get your scars? And what is in that fucking suitcase?”
The words were flying out of me like projectile vomiting. I couldn’t stop them. By the devastated expression on Abigail’s face, it was worse than if I had actually emptied the contents of my stomach all over her. It was my hurt, embarrassment, and humiliation that were screaming at her. I wanted her to feel those words. I wanted them to soak into her skin and consume her like they had done to me. But the second after they flew out of my mouth, I regretted them. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t raised to be hateful. Unable to face her any longer, I slapped my hand over my mouth and ran to the bathroom.
I lost track of how long I hid from Abigail. Each minute that ticked by only made the situation worse, if that were even possible. I was ashamed of what I said, but horrified at my intention. I wanted her to feel like shit. With her downcast gaze, the way her shoulders slumped forward, and the quiver in her chin, I’d say mission accomplished. I treated Abigail exactly the way the kids treated me in high school.
Standing at the sink, I stared in the mirror. This was the ugliest I’d ever looked and it ha
d nothing to do with my scar. I splashed cold water on my face and drew in a couple of deep breaths. I needed to woman up and head back in.
When I walked into the room, Abigail was sitting at the desk with her head buried in a book. I sat at the foot of my bed, directly across from her. She didn’t look up.
The silence was suffocating. If I let it linger much longer I was going to choke.
“Abigail…”
“You don’t have to apologize, Hollis.” Her gaze stayed glued to the book.
“Yes, I do. I just don’t know how.”
My brain searched for the right combination of words that would undo the damage. Saying I’m sorry felt trite the more it rolled around in my head. I wanted her to know I wasn’t just paying her lip service. She needed to see the depth of my regret. The only way I knew to do that was to open myself up, be vulnerable, and not expect anything in return.
I forced my gaze to stay on her. I wasn’t going to take the coward’s way out and turn away. She needed to know I saw the pain I’d caused.
I cleared my throat and asked for forgiveness. “There’s a lake back home where me and my friends hang out… used to hang out. We practically lived at the place after Maggie got her driver’s license and car. We’d go after football games or dances. A lot of us had birthday parties there.”
Abigail glanced up, no doubt wondering what any of this had to do with the situation at hand.
I ran my tongue over my dry lips and continued. “It happened the summer before my senior year.”
Her gaze dropped back to the book. She remained nonreactive except for the slight rise and fall of her chest along with the small movement of her thumb as it fiddled with the corner of the page. She was either nervous or getting impatient.
Get to the point, Hollis.
“So… a bunch of us were out at the lake celebrating the end of our junior year. We all pitched in, bringing food and drinks. The guys brought beer. We made a day of it. When it got dark, some of the boys wanted to shoot fireworks. Just the typical firecracker and bottle rockets, nothing elaborate. John and I… we had been crushing on each other for a few months, but never did anything about it until that night. You know how it is, summertime, we’d been having a blast that entire day, and we were slightly buzzed.” I gave a weak smile to the top of her head.
I thought sharing some of the great parts of that day would ease my nerves, so I’d be able to tell her what happened without falling apart. But as the memory of the incident got closer, my emotions bubbled to the surface as if it had taken place yesterday. Knots formed in my stomach and my throat burned as I forced down the pain.
“John and I had walked down to the edge of the lake. We were kissing as the fireworks were shooting off over our heads. It was like a scene from a movie. After we kissed a few more times, he grabbed my hand, and we walked back toward our friends. John was a step ahead of me when it happened. All I remember was a loud pop and then a huge burst of light exploding in front of us.”
A steady stream of tears rolled down my cheeks.
“I don’t remember much after that. I know I fell to the ground or someone pushed me down. More than likely it was John shielding me from the fire. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital with my arms and the left side of my face burned.”
Abigail gasped. “God, Hollis.”
When our gaze locked, I saw forgiveness in her eyes. She knew why I was letting her in.
“How’s John doing?”
I hesitated, hoping that what I had revealed would be enough. I hadn’t been prepared to open the entire wound, but I wanted Abigail to know I was sincere in my apology.
“John’s entire face was destroyed and one of his hands was blown off.”
“Christ,” she mumbled under her breath.
“The doctors told him and his parents that with time and a lot of surgeries, they could rebuild his face, but they had to be realistic. John would never look…,” I swallowed a sob.
“Human.”
I nodded. “They used medical jargon, but yeah… That was what they meant.”
I stopped for a moment. Pictures of John flashed through my mind. As the months passed, I made myself think of him less and less. I had to in order to keep my sanity. This was the first time I had talked about him in a year.
“I wanted to see him, but he wouldn’t let me. Two weeks after the explosion a nurse found John in his hospital room. Apparently, a pair of scissors that were used when they changed his bandages, were left. He’d cut a sheet, tied one end around his neck and the other end around the rod in the ceiling. You know the one that the privacy curtain hangs from? I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him to cut that sheet. I mean, one hand was gone and the other wasn’t working all that great. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, he planned it out and wanted it to be a success. When my parents told me, I remember thinking how happy I was for him. No one else could understand why he’d done it since the doctors could help him. They didn’t get that survival is just existing, it doesn’t necessarily translate into a life worth living.”
“Don’t you think every life has value?”
“It’s not a question of value. I think an individual has to decide for themselves if their circumstance is livable. Things are not always black and white, Abigail. There’s a lot of gray in the world.”
“Have you ever considered…” She trailed off, having second thoughts about finishing the question.
I knew exactly what she was asking. Over the past week, the two of us hadn’t said more than twenty words to the other, but in the past few minutes I felt a connection forming. Cancer wasn’t in Abigail’s plans, no more than an exploding firecracker in the face was in mine. Our circumstances may have been different, but the aftermath was similar. We were both guarded and afraid to reveal ourselves.
“Never seriously,” I said.
There was recognition in her eyes at my answer. Abigail and I had more in common than either of us ever imagined.
“Thank you, Hollis.”
And with that our conversation was over and my apology accepted. The rest of the day was spent hanging out in the room… together. We went back to talking about regular things—classes, professors, interesting and strange student encounters, but the energy between us was different, less charged, more relaxed. Abigail didn’t share her story with me and that was okay. Hopefully, one day she would. For now, it was enough that the first few steps toward a friendship had been taken.
LOOKING DOWN AT my cellphone, I blew out a sigh when I saw there was still no message from Maggie. I had tucked myself away, at a corner table in the back of the library, along with my laptop. This was the weekend she was coming up for a visit. Since there were only two twin beds in my room and Abigail wasn’t going anywhere, Maggie and I were staying at a hotel the entire weekend. I was beyond excited to see her and to get a mini vacation from dorm life. She texted me after her last class, saying she was on her way and would let me know when she got closer to town. I’d been checking my phone obsessively for the past forty-five minutes while I attempted to get all my homework done.
A set of fingers came into view, curling over the top of my phone and sliding it out of my hand.
What the hell?!
My head popped up and tingles replaced anger.
“Young lady, did you not read the rules of the Chambers University Library in regards to cell phone usage?” Risher’s gaze darted between me and my phone.
“I’m quite the rebel.” I glanced around before holding up my Starbucks Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino that I had hidden between my laptop and the wall.
He bent down, bringing us face-to-face. “Bad girls are hot.”
My entire body combusted. For the first time in a year, I was glad I wore thick makeup because it hid the bright red blush that I could feel covering my face. I raised the drink to my lips and took a sip. It put a little space between us and gave me something else to focus on besides a sexy smirk and emeral
d eyes.
He pressed a few buttons on my phone before setting it down.
Leaning back against the table, he crossed his arms and said, “What are you doing in the library on a Friday afternoon, anyway?”
“I wanted to get all my studying done. Maggie’s coming up for a girl’s weekend.”
“Nice. So girl’s weekend? Does that mean no boys allowed at any time?”
“Well, they are pretty hard and fast rules.”
Risher’s eyebrows traveled into his forehead as a mischievous look appeared across his face. “I could follow those rules.”
My face went slack as laughter flew out of him. I walked right into that one. I loved the fun banter we shared. Normally, I was pretty quick with my comebacks, but when it teetered on flirting it boggled my mind. I still wasn’t sure if I was reading too much into his comments and his attention. It was getting harder for me to tell if he was actually flirting with me or just teasing me like you do with friends. I knew before the incident, I would have been able to tell without a doubt, but my boy reading skills were not what they once were.
“Chuck’s dragging me to some frat party tonight. You should come.”
“I don’t know… we’ll probably just go to dinner and then spend the rest of the night catching up.”
“Girl time?” He smiled.
“Girl time.”
He pushed off from the table. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll come get you.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“Oh, Hollis Murphy, you have my number.” He winked and walked away.
A deep slow sigh left me as Risher disappeared. A second later my phone buzzed with a text.
Risher: Told ya. ;-)
I BOUNCED BACK to my room excited to start my weekend. Maggie had texted me while I was in the middle of my Risher haze. I needed to find a remedy for that and fast.
I found Abigail stretched out on her bed, laptop open, in deep concentration when I breezed into the room.
She glanced up. “Wow, you’re in an extra good mood. Is this all because your friend is coming?”
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