As much as I enjoy the quiet, it doesn’t take long for the flurry of thoughts in my head to dissipate, leaving only one left. The one I can never escape, not even in my sleep.
Cassie.
It was a long summer without her, with only the last conversation between us to keep me company while I wondered what she was doing. I didn’t know what to expect this semester, and after she basically sprinted out of here the first time we saw each other, I figured there was no way in hell we’d have a chance at friendship again.
But she’d showed up when I asked her to, helping me spread the word about the concert by handing out fliers in front of the Student Union. It’s been fun hanging out with her, and every day we spend together I feel more and more of the awkwardness disappear.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still Grayson’s, and I have no idea how to handle that.
I inhale another deep breath, wondering if I have enough time to catch a nap, but of course, the silence doesn’t last long enough for me to find out.
Two loud knocks hit my door before it swings open and Jeremy flies in. “We have a problem.”
“Shhh,” I tell him as he kicks the door closed behind him and flops down in my desk chair, ripping his laptop from his backpack in the process.
“Wha—”
“Sixty seconds,” I say, cutting him off. “Just… let me have sixty seconds of silence and then you can tell me about the problem.”
Jeremy huffs, sitting back in my chair and crossing his arms over his chest. I give him a slight nod and close my eyes again, but he’s too fidgety for me to enjoy the rest. He can’t stop huffing, and his knee is bouncing, foot tapping against the hardwood floor. I get it, he’s under a lot of stress, too, being my right-hand man and second-in-command. It’s pretty awesome running the fraternity with one of my best friends, but at the same time, I’m learning a lot about our leadership styles.
For instance, Jeremy has about as much grip on handling stress as bald tires have on a rainy road.
I laugh, sitting up and moving to the edge of my bed to face him well before the full minute has passed. “Okay, Jeremy. What’s the problem?”
He blows out a breath and grabs his laptop, flipping the top open. “Futile Destiny pulled out of the show.”
“What?! They’re our headliner!”
“Were,” Jeremy says, shaking his head and typing away on his laptop. “They were our headliner. And now we don’t have one.”
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. “The concert is in three days. What the hell are we going to do.”
Jeremy watches me for a minute, and he doesn’t even have to open his mouth for me to know what’s coming next.
“Ugh, don’t even say it.”
“I don’t think we have a choice now, Adam.” Jeremy sets his laptop aside and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Look, I know he’s not your favorite person, but… if we don’t book another headliner, we’re going to have to cancel the concert. Tickets won’t sell without one, and those who already bought them will want a refund if we don’t find a replacement.”
I want to argue with him, convince him we have other options, but I know I can’t — not without putting the concert in jeopardy and failing at my first big challenge as president.
“I know,” I admit dejectedly.
“Do you want me to ask him?”
“No,” I answer, standing and swiping my wallet off my desk. So much for a break. “I’ll go. Cassie said he’s playing at the coffee shop today. Maybe if she’s there, she can help me convince him.”
“Probably not a bad idea to have her giving him a nudge, all things considered.”
I grunt in answer, clapping him on the shoulder as I pass. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
Cup O’ Joe’s is packed when I walk in, and I squeeze between groups of people — mostly girls — standing around with their eyes on the stage. Grayson is belting out Butterfly by Jason Mraz and I can practically see the panties dropping to the floor with every note he sings.
I roll my eyes, the taste of disdain for having to be here at all growing more sour than a rotten lemon in my mouth. One thing I’ve learned about being president is that you have to make sacrifices, and you have to do shit you don’t want to. Still, even though I know I’m out of choices and this is my only chance to save the concert, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to ask Grayson for anything, least of all to headline my show, but here I am.
Swallowing down the last bit of pride I have, I keep pushing through the crowd until I spot Cassie.
Her unruly red hair is braided to the side, the ends of it frayed out in all directions. She aimlessly plays with the ends of it with one hand while the other holds her coffee cup on the table, thumb tapping along to the beat of Grayson’s guitar. She’s seated at a table in the back right corner, eyes on the stage, though they seem distant, as if she’s somewhere else entirely.
My stomach drops at the sight of her, just like it always has. Every step takes me closer to her and further from any semblance of calm I had managed to have when I walked in the door.
“You’re pretty good at that,” I say when I reach her, shaking her from her thoughts as I nod toward her tapping thumb. “Ever ask Grayson if he needs a drummer?”
Cassie’s eyes brighten, as if seeing me is a relief, and my pulse kicks up a notch as I take the empty seat next to her.
“Yeah, right. A girl on stage with him would ruin all of this,” she says, sweeping a hand over the crowd.
I nod, brows pinching together as I look around. Girls are huddled together in packs of three or more in every space of the shop, eyes locked on Grayson, camera phones at the ready as they giggle and will him to look at them with their longing gazes.
“Yeah, this is a little intense. Is it hard for you at all?”
She shrugs. “Nah, it’s all just for show. I know he’s still mine at the end of the night.”
The words leave her lips easily enough, slicing my skin with the precision of them, but something in her eyes tells me she doesn’t believe them as much as I do.
I clear my throat. “Hey, thanks for all your help with the concert. I really appreciate it. I know you have plenty of other things you’d rather be doing than hanging out with me and sweating your ass off handing out fliers.”
Cassie smiles, wrinkling her nose at me. “Ah, it wasn’t that bad. Mild torture, at most.”
Our eyes connect and I hold her stare, silently thanking her again, wondering if she sees the other words laying just beneath the surface. Words I’ve never said, words she’s never heard. Silence always seems to be the way Cassie and I say what we need to say most.
The song ends to a roar from the coffee shop crowd, and Cassie’s attention snaps back to the stage as she claps along with them. When I turn, Grayson is staring directly at us, eyes narrowed as he hangs his guitar on the stand. He forces a smile and waves at the crowd, which makes them go even crazier, and then he jumps down into the masses, making a beeline for our table.
Hands reach for him as he passes, and he politely dismisses each one, focus undeterred until he’s swooping Cassie up from her chair and into his arms.
He kisses her hard, which earns him a few groans from the girls standing nearby and a hard eye roll from me. I stand to join them and wait for his power play of possession to end.
Cassie is flushed bright red when he finally pulls back, tucking her under his arm before finally turning to me with a wry grin. “Oh, hey, Adam. Surprised to see you here. Let me guess, more fliers to hand out?”
It’s clear he’s not happy about the fact that I asked Cassie for help with the show, which kills my optimism that he’ll be willing to help me out himself. Still, I’m not leaving the shop until I do everything I can to save the concert.
“Came to see you, actually.”
His brows shoot up right along with Cassie’s.
“You came to see me play,” he deadpans. “Really.”
Cassie’s eyes light up. “Oh, my God, that’s amazing!” She turns to look up at Grayson, but his eyes are still narrowed, jaw set. “Did you hear that?”
“I thought Futile Destiny was your headliner,” he says, ignoring Cassie’s enthusiasm.
“They were,” I confirm. “Past tense.”
“They’re okay with stepping down to opener so I can headline?”
I clear my throat again, shoving my hands into my pockets. “They had some other opportunities, so they were cool with it.”
At that, Grayson barks out a laugh, his arm still dangling over Cassie’s shoulder. “So, what you mean to say is they pulled out and now you’re fucked.”
I grit my teeth, ready to say fuck it and find someone else when Cassie steps out from under his arm and turns to face him.
“Grayson, this is a great opportunity. They’ve already sold three thousand tickets. That’s twice what they sold last year, and that’s more people you can potentially turn into fans.”
Grayson is still smirking, eyes narrowed at me like he has me all figured out. And right now, as much as I hate it, he holds the power.
Cassie tugs his sleeve and he looks down at her with a sigh. “You want me to do it?”
She nods. “I do. I always feel like my Greek life stuff is so separate from you, but this is a great way for you to be a part of it. And you’d be the headliner!”
He eyes me again before smiling down at her and pulling her in for a kiss. “Okay, I’ll do it for you, then.”
She lights up, this time pulling him down for a kiss, and I nearly double over from the pain of watching it. I’ve seen them dance together, seen them kiss, but this is the first time I’ve seen what I’ve been trying to ignore all along.
She’s falling for him, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Cool,” I finally say, clearing my throat. “I’ll have Jeremy call you tonight with details.”
“Wait,” Grayson says as I turn to leave. “I want five bucks a head minimum. And I want a booth set up for merchandise sales.”
“It’s for charity,” Cassie says to him softly, her hand squeezing where it holds his hip.
“Oh, well… fine. No charge per head. But I need a merch table. My agent won’t agree to it without one.”
I scoff, trying my best to hide it. One viral video and the guy’s douche level skyrockets to ten. “Whatever you need. Just let Jeremy know and he’ll make it happen. Thanks for agreeing, Grayson. Glad to have you.”
I offer him a hand, determined not to let him see how much it pains me to work with him. And the truth is, I really am thankful he agreed to help. The show would have tanked without him, so if I have to bite down my pride and play nice for the next week, I’ll do it.
Besides, he clearly makes Cassie happy, and as much as that kills me, it’s all I want. Her happiness. Even if I can’t be the one responsible for it.
Grayson shakes my hand firmly. “Happy to help.”
He wraps Cassie up for one last, ridiculously long kiss before making his way back to the stage. And then I’m alone with her again, alone as we can be in a crowded coffee shop, and suddenly it’s too hard to breathe.
“Thanks for the help with that,” I say. “See you around.”
“Hey, wait!”
I pause, forcing a swallow and facing her again. One deep red strand has fallen loose from her braid, hanging diagonally across her forehead, begging for me to sweep it aside. I shove my hands back in my pockets to avoid it.
“Do you… can I help at all? Want me to print up more fliers or take tickets at the door?”
And though we could use the help with taking tickets, I know without a doubt I can’t take it from her. Not after seeing her with Grayson, not after knowing how deep she’s in it with him. I thought I could handle it, wait on the sidelines, but it turns out I have absolutely zero chill when it comes to Cassie.
“We’re good, but thanks. Enjoy your coffee.”
I bolt for the door before she can respond, weaving through the crowd until I’m finally able to breathe in the hot summer air outside. The first breath I take is sticky and painful, and I wipe the sweat from my brow, storming back to the house with a new determination.
Cassie isn’t mine.
That fact hasn’t been more clear than it is right now, and though it’s like filleting my heart slice by painful slice, I know I have to let her go. I have to let the idea of us go.
So, with every step, I do just that — dropping every memory, every fantasy, every shred of hope I have. I take the long way back to the house. I replay her kissing him until I’m almost too nauseous to keep walking. And even after all of it, when I reach the house and jet straight back to my bedroom, flopping down into the cool sheets, I know I’ve failed.
I still can’t shake the very last piece.
And I know I never will.
YOU KNOW THAT SHINY, pink skin that makes up a scar? The kind that is a little bit thinner, yet somehow a little more resilient? The kind that marks you forever with a warning sign, with a memory, with a reminder? Well, I am covered in that skin, from head to toe, and I’ve never felt more beautiful.
The summer made me stronger.
I left Palm South University last semester broken. Shattered. Completely and utterly destroyed. I didn’t know if I’d come back — hell, I didn’t know if I’d survive. But here I am, stronger than ever, and it’s all thanks to my mom.
She helped me take the pain and the fear and transform them into drive and determination. It took months of tough love and reality checks that hurt almost worse than what had happened with Landon, but I was finally standing on my own.
And this semester, I was standing even taller.
I realize this is the best part about my new scarred skin as I apply the last bit of my foundation, working it into my skin with a makeup sponge and a soft smile on my face. The best part about my scars is that no one else can see them but me.
And that is power.
“I just don’t understand why she won’t take a Little,” I say to Skyler again as I dig through my makeup bag for my eyebrow pencil. “I mean, I get that she’s got a tough schedule this semester, but so does everyone else. This is prime time to add to the family. And if she ends up taking a Little next year, that’s one less year they’ll have together and she’ll be so young when she takes president like the rest of our family. It’ll make everything more difficult for her. It just doesn’t make sense. You always take a Little after your first year. You just do.”
“Ex,” Skyler sighs my nickname, sitting up on the edge of my bed. “Please, can we just let it go? Cassie wants to wait and we need to support her. It’s fine, our line will be fine, the presidency legacy will be fine, it’ll all be fine. Just chill.”
I would roll my eyes if I wasn’t currently lining them. “Fine. I’ll let it go. But I think it’s a mistake, especially since this is the best pledge class we’ve ever had.”
“All thanks to you,” Skyler reminds me with a wink.
It’s a transparent attempt to change the subject and drive me back to Happy Town, but I let it happen. Mostly because the first goal I wanted to accomplish with my newfound determination was to land us the most amazing girls KKB had ever seen, and I’d succeeded.
“I still can’t believe it,” I say, grabbing my mascara next. Skyler is still in her pajamas, but I have the first Panhellenic all-chapter meeting in thirty minutes, and I plan to make a statement when I walk in. “Highest average GPA, highest percentage of athletes, highest percentage of on-campus involvement. We’re going to be unstoppable this semester.”
“You killed it. I’ve
never seen a recruitment run so smoothly, Big.” Skyler beams as I brush the last of my lashes. “You definitely don’t have to worry about getting president now. It’s a definite.”
I smile. “You think?”
“I know.”
Suddenly my bedroom door flies open and Jess tumbles into the room, jumping onto Ashlei’s bed across from where Skyler is sitting.
“HE’S COMING!”
She bounces on the bed, the floppy mess of hair piled in a bun on her head jumping right along with her as she claps her hands.
“Jesus?” Skyler asks.
“Close. Jarrett!”
This time we all squeal with her, and she falls back on the bed, legs kicking in the air.
“He’s coming to visit and he’ll be here a whole week! Andddd, I’m going to introduce him to everyone! No more secrets. I want every single person to know I’m his and he’s mine.”
“You could always get t-shirts made,” I offer.
Jess tosses a pillow in my direction, but it thumps against my closet door and slides down pathetically. “Whatever, Ex. Not even the best of sarcasm can get me down today. My boyfriend is coming to town!”
Skyler and I both laugh and then I turn to rummage through my closet while Jess goes on and on about what they’ll do while he’s here. I know it’s a big step for them, since most of their relationship has been kept a secret due to his job on campus. Now that he’s working up north, there’s nothing to hide, and I’m happy for Jess.
A small part of me wonders if I’ll ever know that happiness. The thought of letting another guy in, letting him close, seems so impossible it’s like imagining winning the lottery. Fun to think about, but depressing all the same.
My phone buzzes on my desk just as I pull on my favorite Lilly Pulitzer dress and I check my reflection before swiping it off the desk. Clinton’s name is framed by a small box, and I swallow, heart kicking against my chest as I slide my thumb across the screen.
- Hey, you, what are you doing for your birthday next week? Big 2-1 deserves a bad-ass party. -
Palm South University: Season 3 Box Set Page 5