My mind churns through things to say. Something I can’t say to her, but want to.
“I like you,” I shout.
Her eyes widen.
I realize she can read my lips. Why didn’t I think of that before?
21
Freezing November rain pummels me from all directions. It bounces off the obnoxious neon yellow rain poncho Mr. Juarez, the head of maintenance, insists I wear and puddles around my feet. The frigid water’s soaked through my shoes, and my toes are so numb amputation may be the only cure.
Seriously, did anyone stop to think I may get pneumonia or something from standing out in this crap?
I bend and scoop another handful of sopping leaves from the gutter. Mr. Juarez gave me a broom, but it’s useless against the wet leaves. At least he gave me gloves, but those, too, are drenched.
Further down, to my left, Alex squats next to the curb. The torrential rain obscures most other things, but his yellow poncho stands out. At least he’s miserable too. That’s a small consolation.
I tear off my water-laden gloves and toss them on the lawn. Not like they can get any wetter. After I tie a knot in the black garbage bag, I it carry down the walkway and drop it next to the others.
My back and thighs ache from all the bending and squatting. I’m so out of shape that Coach is going to ream me when baseball practice starts. But even endless hours of conditioning won’t be as fucking miserable as this.
I pick up an empty bag and am walking back to where I left off, when Mr. Juarez pulls up in his white golf cart. “It’s lunchtime, Fletcher. Help Aleksandr load those bags, and you can be done for the day.”
Alex jumps out of the golf cart and reaches for two bags. Not to be outdone, I wrap my fingers around two other bags with my left hand and three with my right. It’s a little hard to walk, and I’m losing circulation in my fingers, but I get a small sense of satisfaction about carrying more than Alex.
When Alex throws the last bag onto the golf cart’s trailer, Mr. Juarez says, “Okay, boys. I’ll see you next Saturday. Same time.”
He drives off.
“Fucker. He could have at least offered to take us back to our dorms,” Alex says as the rain swallows up the golf cart.
I start walking. I’m cold and wet and tired, and just want to get into some dry clothes and sleep. Yeah, sleep sounds awesome right now. What I don’t want to do is stand out here and talk to Alex, the reason I’m scooping up leaves in the rain.
“Fletch!”
The wind roars around us, sending the rains sideways. It would be so easy to keep walking and pretend I don’t hear him, but I don’t. I stop and wait for him to catch up to me.
“This sucks, huh?” he says.
“Yeah.”
We’re jogging, racing really, toward the upper campus stairs. When we reach them, Alex darts around me and blocks the path. Since my birthday, things have been okay between us. Not great, but less confrontational. I don’t like being alone with him, but I also don’t want to punch him in the face anymore.
Probably because I’m over Cal. One-hundred percent over her.
“I’ve been hanging out with this girl – Olivia McCarthy. She’s a sophomore. Know her?”
He’s keeping me out in this craptastic rain to ask me about a girl? What the hell? “What about Calista?”
“Yeah. I don’t know.” Alex shifts his weight. “I don’t think she’s into it.”
A small thrill of victory rushes through me. “Sorry.”
“Anyway, about Olivia. Her roommate, Lilah, has a thing for you.”
“So?” Lilah. I scour my brain, but can’t place her.
“I was wondering if you’d want to come over and hang out with her?” He shuffles his feet. “She’s decent looking. Nice, tight body. You’d like her.”
My eyes wander past him and land on a puddle of water overflowing the boundaries of a step and running down the lower risers like a mini-waterfall. If I say ‘no’ then I’m pretty much making the problem between us permanent, especially now that Cal’s out of the picture for both of us. “Yeah. Sounds good.” I pull the stupid yellow hood off my head and let the rain hit my hair. “When?”
Alex grins. “How about tonight? After dinner?”
“Where do you want to meet?”
Alex turns to walk up the stairs. “I’ll come by and get you. They’re in Downing House.”
***
“Dude, where have you been?” Brady acknowledges me without moving his head. He acts like me showing up in my own room is a miracle or something.
“Cleaning gutters so ass hats like you don’t end up with flooded rooms.”
Brady tosses his controller at the screen, and it bounces to the floor. “Damn it!”
“I won?” Ellie leaps up from the ground and shakes her hips. “I won! That’s like — what? My nineteenth win? What you got now? Huh?” She playfully shoves Brady, who hangs his head in defeat.
“What are you two doing?” I ask, pulling off the poncho. I drop it on the floor before hunting for a towel in my closet.
“Waiting for you. It’s either this or watching Reid and Paige work their way through the Kama Sutra.” He blanches. “Did you know they’re trying every position in that book?”
“Seriously?”
Brady sighs dramatically. “Lucky me, right? I’m a room orphan.”
There’s a dry pair of pants on the floor near my desk and wrinkled shirt in my clean laundry pile. Briefly, I consider changing in the bathroom, but what the hell. I drop my pants and strip off my soaked shirt. If Ellie’s embarrassed, she doesn’t show it.
“Why didn’t you just go to Ellie’s?” There’s a hint of bitterness in my voice. Brady’s been over there a few times, but I’ve never stepped foot in her quad.
Ellie laughs. “He’s not brave enough.” She sticks her tongue out at Brady. “Really, I shouldn’t even be here with you. Sarah pretty much despises you.”
I gather up my wet clothes and drop them in the corner. “What did you do?”
Brady holds up his hands. “Nothing. I did nothing. But apparently she thinks I should have done something.”
“Elle?”
She crosses her arms and lifts her chin in faux-anger. “He told her he liked her, but not in that way.” Didn’t sound too bad. “After he slept with her.”
“Dude! She’s my lab partner! If I have to listen to a litany of Brady hatred for the rest of the year, I’m going to murder you.”
“It’s not like you don’t do the same. Let’s see.” He lifts his first finger. “Hannah Chan, Calista, Tabs…”
“Okay, we get your point,” I snap.
“What can I say, it’s who we are.”
“Why are you still talking to him?” I ask Ellie.
She shrugs. “Sarah knew what he was when she agreed to it. It’s her own fault.”
Brady’s stands up and stretches. His t-shirt pulls over his stomach and Ellie’s eyes focus on his six-pack. I won’t lie, Brady’s ripped. And I’m not. Not even close.
“Where are you going?” I ask, a little panicked about being left alone with Ellie after my unintentional confession in the music room.
He strolls across the room, stepping over a mess of video games. “I’ve got places to be, things to do.” He yanks the door open and wiggles his eyebrows. “And by things to do, I mean this tasty little freshman named Alexa.” He grins. “Since it’s not visiting hours, I guess the two of you don’t have to keep four feet on the floor.”
I grab a notebook from my desk and launch it at him, but it hits the door. Ellie’s bent over picking up the video games, acting like she didn’t hear him.
“What do you want to do?” I ask once I’m sure I can speak without saying something embarrassing.
Ellie drops down on the bed. “Actually, I need to go. I have a ridiculous amount of homework, but maybe we can hang out tonight. If you’re around?”
Lately, I’ve always been around. Every night, waiting for her or
hanging out with her and Brady. But tonight … a hole opens in my stomach. “I have plans.”
“Oh?” I can’t tell if she’s surprised or disappointed. That’s the thing with Ellie, she’ll tell you what’s on her mind, but she’s hard to read.
“Alex invited me to hang out with him.”
Ellie plays with her ragged fingernail. “You guys made up?”
“Guys don’t make up. We just get over stuff.”
“Semantics.” She grips the door knob. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“I have that paper for Lit. Have you finished yet?”
“No.” A small frown forms on her lips. “So, you don’t want to hang out tonight, but maybe tomorrow?”
“How about in the afternoon?”
“Great. That sounds really great.” Her voice is too high, too perky. Something’s wrong.
“You can stay, Elle, if you want to do your homework here?”
For a moment, I think she’s going to, but she says, “I would, but we both know I can’t.”
“You can’t?” I repeat.
“Yeah.”
My mouth’s working faster than my mind and I blurt, “Because of what I said?”
Her voice is low, barely audible. “Because of what we both said.”
“Oh.”
“So I have to go.”
“You need to go,” I repeat, not really understanding why she needs to.
She walks slowly toward me, her hips swaying. Our eyes lock, and my heart thunders in my chest, forcing blood around my body so fast, I sway from dizziness.
“I don’t want to, but we can’t do this. You’re my friend.” Her hands touch my shoulders, and it’s like she stopped my heart. Suddenly, it flips and sputters. Hums louder and louder until I’m sure she can hear. “I like having you as my friend,” she whispers.
She’s so close. Touch her. Kiss her. Just do it. “What if—”
Brady bursts back into the room, dripping water all over the place. “She wasn’t there.” He heads straight to the closet. “Do you have any more pretzels?”
Ellie answers without taking her eyes off mine. “I put them on the top shelf.”
“Cool.”
Her shoulders sag a little when she turns away and walks back to the door. I sink into the desk chair.
Ellie peeks into the hallway, and seeing it’s all clear, says, “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Later, Ellie.” Brady’s still rummaging through my food. Apparently, the pretzels aren’t enough for him. The door slams shut, and he immediately stops digging and glares at me. “What was that? What’s going on?”
I shake my head slightly. “Nothing,” I lie. Because it isn’t nothing. It’s everything.
“Didn’t look like nothing. Did you guys hook-up or something?”
I press my lips together. “No.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Don’t lie, Fletch. Ellie will tell me.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “You discuss me with Ellie?”
“I’m keeping you honest. I want my car.” He opens the pretzels and offers the bag to me first. I wave it away.
“What do you know about a sophomore named Lilah?” I say, hoping to change the subject.
Brady scratches his head. “Lilah Nittle?”
“I guess, I have no idea. Alex and I are hanging out with her and her roommate tonight.”
Brady grins. “Make sure you’re packing protection. She’s a total dick monkey.”
22
I despise Olivia and Lilah. For the past twenty minutes, I’ve had to listen to their non-stop giggle feast about pop stars and who’s dating whom.
Like I care.
They’re boring girls. The kind who think raccoon eyes are sexy and wear push-up bras that only leave me disappointed and upset over being cheated.
However, Olivia’s got a nice ass, and her face isn’t too bad. Lilah, on the other hand, is short and not in a cute way. More like stumpy, but not exactly fat. Definitely not the tight body Alex promised. She’s solid like a female rugby player, and once the extra padding of her push-up bra is gone, I think she’ll have smallish tits. It doesn’t help that her dark blond hair is cropped so it falls just past her chin in a non-sexy way.
I don’t know, guess it could be worse.
Alex leans against the bottom bunk with a pipe in his hand. He takes a long draw and offers it to me.
I wave it away. I’m not staying any longer than I need to.
“Suit yourself.” Alex lights another bowl. The pungent smell fills the air and a deep ache grows in my gut. My mouth waters a little, like one of Pavlov’s dogs, and I hold out my hand.
Olivia takes the pipe from his hand, sets it on the desk, and grabs a scary, emerald green liquid. “This is much better,” she says as she pours it in to four red Solo cups. She mixes in some water before passing the cups around.
“Cheers,” she says.
I tip my cup and drain the contents. If vodka burns going down, this stuff feels like someone has poured a liquid version of hell down my throat.
“What is this?” I gasp. I need water, but don’t want to look like a wuss.
“The Green Fairy — absinthe,” Olivia responds. “You’re supposed to add a little sugar before drinking it, but we don’t have any.”
“It’s awful.”
Lilah pushes out her lip. “My dad produces it.”
“Your dad makes booze?”
“He’s the largest domestic producer,” she says brightly.
Oh, good God. And here I am bashing on the crap.
Once Olivia finishes her cup, she pulls Alex up off the ground and leads him to the bathroom.
I set the cup of foul-tasting liquid on a desk and wave Lilah off from pouring me another glass.
“So,” I say, looking for something to talk about in order to drown out the moans coming from the bathroom. “How are your classes?”
Lilah moves past me to the lower bunk.
God, it’s hot in here. “Can we open the window a little?” I ask.
“Sure.” She crawls across the bed and pushes the window open. The cool breeze hits my face, but sweat continues to bead along my hairline and neck.
Lilah’s legs dangle over the edge of the bed, and she leans back on her elbows. Brady told me she was a sex freak, but so far, all I’ve gotten are giggles and some nasty green drink.
“They’re okay. I really like my history section.” And blah, blah, blah. Great. She’s one of those girls who talk a ton when nervous. I’ve got to get out of here before I go crazy.
Some sugary pop crap that makes me want to scream plays in the background. Being here is worse than detention.
I wipe my hand across my clammy forehead and rest my head against the upper bunk so my crotch is pretty much at her eye level. Might as well make this worth my time. I say, “So, are you going to blow me or what?”
I don’t care what it sounds like. Either she’s going to get pissed and kick me out, which wouldn’t be awful, or I’m going to get some action.
There’s a loud groan from the bathroom, and Lilah giggles. “Sounds like they’re having fun.”
She’s so short, she can sit upright under the bunk and still has room left over. I can’t see her face when she reaches for my jeans and slowly unzips them. My dick throbs.
“This is nice,” she says, scraping her fingernails over the head. Shit, that feels good. So fucking good. I haven’t had any action since that kiss with Ellie, and even that wasn’t like I got laid or anything. That hasn’t happened since the summer.
My mind’s wandering. It shouldn’t be wandering.
Lilah drags her tongue over the surface, and instead of waiting for her, I grab her head with both my hands and do what I want. What I need to do to stay hard. To not think.
I watch her blond head bob up and down, and close my eyes. Focus on the feeling. From the way she works her tongue, it’s obvious she’s done this before.
When we’re done, she drags the back o
f her hand across her lips and gives me a hopeful smile. “Did you like that?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I’m empty. Absolutely empty inside. I zip my jeans, and before Lilah can beg me to stay, I get the hell out of there.
I run through the rain, not caring if I get wet. Not caring if I drop dead from pneumonia. Just run. As fast as I can, away from that room. Away from Lilah. Away from myself.
What’s wrong with me?
I should feel awesome, not miserable.
At the bottom of the upper campus stairs, I stop in the little glen and slump onto the solitary bench. The rain doesn’t fall as hard here under the canopy of trees.
Ellie was right. I only think with my dick.
Fuuuuck. I pound my fists against the bench.
When I close my eyes, Ellie’s wicked smile dances through my mind. I try to focus on the way she eats three French fries at a time, all perfectly lined up. The way, when we’re together, I can breathe. The way she’s the only girl whom I’ve ever had even a shred of respect for.
Screw the bet. Brady can have my car. He can claim my room. Whatever.
I jump to my feet. Instead of climbing the stairs, I dodge raindrops across The Quad toward Ellie’s dorm. I’m going to tell her. That kiss, it meant so much more to me. It was everything.
It’s past curfew, but I don’t care. Besides, no one is going to come looking for kids out of their houses in rain like this.
Ellie’s dorm is next to Brady and Reid’s. As I stumble through the downpour, I realize, I have no idea which room is hers – I’ve never been here before.
My gut churns, and tears sting my eyes.
What am I doing?
I just let some skank suck me off. How is Ellie supposed to believe I like her?
As the rain pours down, soaking through my sweatshirt, my heart sits like lead in my chest.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop being such an ass?
23
I’m not in any hurry to get to class. I slept through breakfast and skipped showering. Dark circles line my eyes. Blond stubble dots my chin and upper lip. I don’t bother to tuck in my shirt or straighten my tie.
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