“They’re in a fraternity,” Shea explains, rolling her eyes. She takes a step back and motions for me to do the same.
“So, whatcha say?”
“Uhh, maybe,” I answer.
I reach for the drink tray on the table, but he grabs my arm. Scowling, I jerk away from his hold, but it doesn’t faze him. He kicks his grin up a notch and steps closer.
“Maybe? You can do better than that.”
Something about the grin of a drunken man turns me off. The way they regard women as if they are already a done deal. I’ve never understood the attraction. My blood boils and I almost tell him off, but Shea comes to my rescue.
“Corey, she said maybe—” Shea starts.
“Fuck with her again and you’re out of here,” Hayze says, cutting her off.
His arms are folded against his chest; he looks slightly amused. As if he knows the guy won’t push him. With wide eyes, I turn and storm to the back. Shea catches up with me.
“Sorry, he’s really drunk. He shouldn’t even be in here. He won’t say anything again. Hayze doesn’t let drunk douchebags mess with us.”
“You’re right, sorry. Let’s get back out there.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She bumps her shoulder into me until I grin.
“This is probably the last place I should’ve applied. I have absolutely no experience with this kind of thing,” I say, motioning around the bar.
“Hey, don’t talk like that! It’s your first night, and you’re doing great! It’ll get better and don’t worry about experience. This is college, you’ll leave here having experienced everything,” she laughs.
“Gee, is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She slings her thin arm around my neck and tows me into the bar. The loudest table stands and shove their chairs under the tables. The contact sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
A couple of girls walk in; the shorter one tugs her shirt down and leans over the bar. Hayze walks over, leans against the bar with his elbows propped on the counter. His face is smooth as he speaks to her, he winks and walks off.
“I’m gagging,” Shea tells me.
“Does he really fall for that?” I nod in their direction.
“Correction, do they really fall for that?”
With my nose scrunched, I ask, “What do you mean?’
“He’s just bored, and well, I think they hope they’re the one. That they will be the one to change him, or at least, that’s what I think. Or maybe it’s the bad boy thing he has going for him. I can understand it I guess…We made out once, it was nothing. I have a boyfriend now, but I do understand the attraction.”
I look back at the pair. The girl is smiling as she rubs his arm. “So, what does he do? Just like date them ‘til he’s tired of them?”
She laughs while dragging me to a table. “No, he doesn’t date them. I’m pretty sure he’s tired of them before the night’s over.”
“And you are friends with this guy?”
“He’s a good guy. Ya know…If you don’t do that…” She points to the bar. I turn to see him lean over, with an amused grin, as the girl slips a folded napkin into his pocket.
“He’s not going to call her,” Shea says.
“So, why do they even bother?”
“My point exactly! C’mon, let’s greet that table.”
I shoot her a quizzical look and she shrugs. “Hey, I was intoxicated and it was one time!”
With the worst behind me, the night runs smoothly. The regulars are helpful and promise I’ll catch on quickly. When my shift ends, I walk with Shea to my car past one in the morning. She’s still perky as she invites me out. I politely decline and slump to my car in exhaustion.
The bar door opens again, Hayze steps out and walks to a car parked in the back. The girl from before is leaning against the car, arms crossed at her chest. I slam my car in gear to escape the scene I don’t want to witness. With brows raised, Hayze waves once as I peel out of the lot.
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
Today’s the day. The day I’ve been dreaming of since I realized my home life wasn’t normal. My first day of college, no one is standing over me, telling me in disgust to change my immodest clothing, or expressing distaste in my new friends. After spending my weekend working at the bar, I woke up this morning, threw on clothes and walked out to explore my new life as a normal student.
“Where’s L. Mueller Science building?” I ask Lea.
She grabs my schedule and map and sits on the steps and pats the pavement beside her. She pulls out a book, slides my map over it and begins marking. I check the time, hoping I get to class on time and she hands me the map.
I tried to talk Lea into taking me for a tour of the campus yesterday but she insisted that it was lame. I even found a tour for freshman and she managed to talk me out of it. Apparently no one is organized in college. I’m mentally kicking myself for winging it, as she suggested, when the panic attack builds up in my body.
“Okay, I labeled the buildings you’re going to.”
I read over the purple pen marks. The four buildings I have classes in are circled. She also made extra notes about food and coffee. I glance at my schedule again, frowning.
“This campus is huge! I have to walk from the science building to the math building in fifteen minutes?” I groan. I look at her in disbelief and she smirks. That’s the difference between Lea and me. I graduated high school with thirty other students; every classroom was in the same building down one long hall. Lea grew up in Nacogdoches and that high school is practically as big as the university. She smirks every time I complain about the track or crowds, reminding me how different I’m from most students on campus.
She laughs, “It’s not as far as it looks.”
I arch an eyebrow as she stands and pulls her backpack straps in place.
“You could get a bike,” she says, pointing. I follow the end of her finger where a student pedaled by, dodging a crowd. “I bet he went to the student tour yesterday.”
“I think I’ll pass. This place is packed.”
I stare at the campus, noting the sea of students walking to class. Coeds grip their backpacks, laughing and joking as the fresh semester begins. Most of them are sporting purple with the college logo on it.
“That’s how it is first day of each semester. Give it a couple of weeks, some will drop out, maybe get kicked out, and some will have to move back in with mommy and daddy after their second arrest.”
“There’s a fun fact I didn’t see on their website,” I laugh.
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when sheltered kids come to college.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Class is about to start. I should probably get going,” I say.
She sees the look on my face and frowns. “Ah shit, I didn’t mean that. Well, I did but that won’t be you.”
I nod reassuringly. But I can’t pass the uneasy feeling that settles in the pit of my stomach. Scott, my brother, teases me about this all the time. He tells me he sees a lot of himself in me. Out of my two brothers Scott is the college dropout, he has a good paying job and a home now, but he had hell getting there after his rebellious days in college.
I wave and start walking, my eyes glued to the map. When a pen thumps me in the back, I scoop it up and look behind me. Shielding the sunlight from my eyes, I spot Lea on the stairs.
“You’re going the wrong way! Meet me in the dining hall after algebra!”
I turn, her finger is pointing to my left. I nod my head and follow in that direction. Throughout my walk I follow signs, and groups of students. My mom tried unsuccessfully to make me try a community college first, but I wasn’t having it. Today, I fully understand the phrase ‘culture shock.’
My shoulders sag in relief as I see the building in front of me. Following the signs, I find the room number within minutes. Students fill the desks, only the first row is empty. I duck my head as I slide into the first seat
I find.
Thankfully, no one knows who I am. No one announced the Virgin Mary entered the room as I walked in. No one knows my father, or my family. Sighing, I open my used Biology book. I fish out my pencil from my bag.
“We don’t do anything on the first day. Hey, we met at Mystic this weekend!”
I turn in my seat, finding a familiar girl sitting next to me, smiling. I cock my brow, impressed she remembers. She was drunk when she stumbled in the bar.
“Oh, right. I’m Taylor.”
“Shelby. This is your first semester?”
She leans in, curiously. Her hair is pulled back, its platinum top shines as the light hits it, the bottom layer is black.
“It is. You?”
I humor her with a conversation. I can already tell this girl will drive me insane. My biggest pet peeve was always hearing someone judge people before they knew them. Look at me, a walking contradiction already.
“No, I’m a sophomore. I failed this class the first time,” she says, giggling.
I nod, deciding to leave my book and pencil on my desk. For all I know, she didn’t attend the first day, or any day. She taps her finger nails on the desk. The professor burst through the door, carrying a bag. He pulls out a stack of paper, counting the students on each row, he hands the first row the papers to pass back.
“So, you work at Mystic?” She studies me. Her finger nails snake to the corner of her lips, she begins chewing intently.
“Yeah, this was my first weekend,” I say, focusing my attention on the paper in front of me.
“I would work for free to be near Hayze. He used to be in the fraternity I’m a sweetheart for. Just hearing his name, it’s like he was destined to be hot.”
I cut my eyes over to her; her face is flushed as she talks about him. Sure he’s hot, but what is it about him that leaves this girl in a frenzy? She doesn’t get the hint; instead her high pitched voice trails on about her weekend and I nod and pretend to listen. I shift around, meeting the professor’s eyes; he points his finger to us and goes back to the class.
“I’m professor Dunphy. You should each have the syllabus in front of you. This is your bible for the semester.” He picks up his textbook. “This is the book you should have, by next week. Bring pencils and paper to each class…”
He flips through the syllabus. “Okay, I don’t care what you did over the summer, so that’s it for the day. I will see you all next class,” he says and claps once to dismiss class. Students holler and rise from their seats. I remain in mine until the group thins out.
“Told ya so,” Shelby grins.
I shove my book in my bag, toss my pencil in and sling the strap over my shoulder. I walk from the building, stopping beside a tree. The shade blocks the angry Texas sun from scorching my pale skin. Pulling out the map again, I find the math building and set off in that direction.
I’m not so lucky in algebra. The professor didn’t believe in first day bliss. We finished chapter one and left with homework due next week. The students all seemed to know one another, and I sat at the front, avoiding them. I pull my map out, shielding my eyes and squinting.
“What ya lookin’ for, freshman?”
A deep voice startles me. I jump, sending the map soaring from my grip. Hayze laughs as he picks up the paper and hands it to me.
“The dining hall. I’m meeting my roommate there.”
I attempt to compose myself. I stow my paper in my backpack and he laughs and murmurs something about the map.
“The dining hall? You sure?” He grimaces.
“Yeah, that’s what she said.”
“Follow me,” he says.
“Uh, you don’t have to take me.”
My feet remain grounded to the sidewalk. He turns with a smug grin that I’m certain girls give into.
“I know I don’t,” he says.
He shoves aviators on his face and walks beside me. His white t-shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I can see the outline of his tattoos; they peek out of each sleeve and stop at his shoulder. Although he’s slim, his arms are defined, his chest sculpted, but in a natural way. Like he doesn’t give any effort to look the way he does.
“How’s the first day going?” He asks.
“Overwhelming. How’s yours?”
“Same as always,” he says.
I nod my head even though I don’t know what he means. I’m sure it’s easy for him to make friends, with girls anyway. At the same time there’s something about him that’s terrifying. He’s friendly, but there’s something that I can’t place, something that isn’t being said that keeps me two feet away from him right now.
I’ve always studied people and caught onto things that no one else would’ve known. My dad scolded me as if it was a flaw when I was growing up. People have secrets and they have a right to keep them that way; I know this. But isn’t that why there are people like me, to help them? Everyone needs to be rescued, even if they aren’t aware of it themselves.
My hand comes to my brow, shielding the sun as I glance around. The circular, one story building nestles between tall, rectangular buildings. Students crowd in the door, while some pack the lawn outside. I pick up my speed when I see a Frisbee whisk by. Hayze chuckles and holds the door open for me.
“Your fine dining experience awaits you. You see your friend anywhere?”
I scan the crowd. When a group of guys crouch at a table, I spot Lea’s blonde hair and point.
“There she is.”
Hayze runs his hand over his face and shakes his head. He mutters something that I didn’t catch. With one hand shoved in his pocket, he motions for me to lead the way.
The dining hall reminds me of my high school cafeteria, with students shoving into one another as they shout above the person beside them. A smile is present on each student’s face. The fresh buzz is sure to wear off within a week.
“Lea,” he says as we approach the table.
“Oh my God! Hayze Clarke!”
He slumps in the seat in front of her and motions for me to the take the seat next to him.
“We’re friends,” she reminds me.
“I found this one roaming around campus lost…with a map,” he says, grinning. Lea looks to him then me and laughs.
“There’s no hope for her after all.”
“Very funny,” I say.
He tosses his glasses on the table. I can’t help but notice the dark circles outlining his eyes. He rubs them once, yawning. I catch Lea watching him, her mouth twists to the side as she thinks. I want to ask what’s wrong but I don’t.
“What’s going on this week? We need to take this one out. She’s sheltered” she says, pointing in my direction.
“You sure you wanna be her friend? She drinks a lot,” he laughs as he steals a fry from her plate.
“I don’t drink a lot! You really think I drink too much?”
“I don’t think you drink too little.” He clenches his teeth, pretending to be serious.
I laugh and then look at him in disbelief. “You don’t drink?”
He shakes his head. “Not that much. Drinking isn’t really my thing.”
Lea looks at him and he catches her eyes for a second before dropping his gaze.
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
I follow the group of students in front of me and stand in the short line behind them. Windows line the back wall, sunlight bathes in the dining hall. Beyond the glass, the campus trees dance in the wind, with picnic tables strategically placed beneath them.
As the line moves up, I scan the food before grabbing a burger and going back at the table.
I slow down as I approach the table. Lea is leaned over, whispering. Her face is lined with concern; Hayze’s jaw is clenched. The way they treat each other makes me believe they are downplaying their relationship. I would guess they’re dating, but apparently Hayze hooks up with every girl on campus, so I know that can’t be it. As much as I want to ask them about it, I won’t. I’ll wait un
til I have a better relationship with them.
“I said I’m fine, Lea,” he warns.
I slide my tray on the table and fix my eyes on my food, ignoring their conversation. Lea is the first to look in my direction.
“Bad timing?” I ask.
“Perfect actually,” he says, glaring at Lea.
Lea slaps her hands down on her lap, filling the space with a loud clasp. “I forgot to ask! How’d your first night go?”
“It was fine.”
“That tool you dated tried to hit on her,” Hayze says.
I bite the ketchup packet with my front teeth and rip the side open as I listen to them bicker. Lea’s mouth twists to the side, she taps her chin, thinking.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” she says.
“Corey.’
She shrugs her shoulders as she finishes chewing. “He wasn’t that bad…When he wasn’t drinking”
“Unfortunately for everyone around him, he drinks all the time,” he says.
“Guess you have a point,” Lea says.
Hayze opens his mouth to say something, but rolls his eyes instead. The conversation is light throughout lunch, but I catch Lea watching him with concern.
As the students thin out of the room, we stand and walk toward the trash bins. I toss my food and stay ahead of them. Lea grabs onto my bag, tugging me backwards.
“Let’s go out Wednesday!”
I smile, knowing this is the opportunity I need. Lea’s face lights when I nod my head in agreement.
Hayze groans, “Fine.”
Twisting my watch around my arm, I see I’m running late for my last class. “I have to get to class.”
“See you at the room, Tay,” Lea says.
I set out to find the fine arts building. After ducking a flying football and bumping into a group of girls, I finally find the building. The front is covered with windows. I walk inside praying that I’ll be released early from my last class of the day. My phone vibrates from my pocket. I glance around the class, but the professor isn’t in sight. Seeing that it’s from Lea, I open the text.
Her text says: Pool party at Hayze’s. Wanna come?
I respond: Do I have a choice?
No, you don’t. Her response comes through immediately and I laugh.
The Hazed Series (New Edition) Page 2