I shook my head. “I’ve given it up.”
“Like I said before, you’re on your own telling that to Vanessa.”
I curled my lip, but she was right. When I weighed my options, I decided that performing in the talent show would be a lot less painful than living down the hall from a pissed off Vanessa all year. Plus it would help dogs and cats. What kind of person would I be if I refused to help raise money for needy animals?
“What should I sing?”
“How about this?” Amber did a few quick dance moves as some vintage Britney Spears boomed out of her speakers.
I pretended to consider it for a minute. “Tempting, but no.”
Amber turned down the music. “I’ll tell you what you can’t do. None of that opera crap.”
“Hey! It’s not crap.”
“No, it’s not. It was perfect for your pageants, but this isn’t a pageant, Miss Chesapeake.”
I didn’t bother to correct her, to tell her that my reign as Miss Teen Chesapeake was over. And I didn’t bother to explain, yet again, that the pageants were just for scholarship money. I hadn’t even really liked them—I just happened to be good at them.
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Broadway, then?”
Amber pushed her chair away from her desk and spun around. “Do something modern that people will recognize.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to be compared to the original artist.”
“Why not? You’re just as good as most of them.”
I snorted. “When is this thing anyway?” I searched the flier for a date, my fingers tightening on the paper when I found it. “Holy crap. It’s Friday.”
“Huh,” Amber said, unconcerned.
“As in this Friday,” I repeated for emphasis.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Could you at least freak out a little on my behalf?”
Amber held up a finger and cleared her throat. Then she exclaimed, “Oh no!” and assumed a stricken expression.
I pursed my lips. “Very funny.”
She didn’t get it. I had been good at the pageants because I was prepared. Natural ability could only get you so far. The rest was up to preparation.
“No, what’s funny is you freaking out.”
“This doesn’t leave me enough time to refresh myself and rehearse a song I already know, much less learn a new song. I’m going with ‘Popular.’”
“No.”
“Why not? Wicked is very popular.” If not for the seriousness of the situation, I would have laughed at my own pun. “People will recognize it.”
“Do you really want to be the only one singing a Broadway song? Just pick a popular non-Broadway, non-opera song and sing it. It’s as simple as that.”
“Fine.” I slapped the flier down on her desk.
She chortled. “Now you’re really being funny, but if you insist.” She cleared her throat and opened her mouth. If anyone was outside in the hallway, they would have sworn a cat was being strangled in here. I should have known better. This wasn’t the first time my eardrums had been tortured by the vocal stylings of my dear best friend.
How could such a horrific sound come from this petite Barbie doll–esque girl?
“Stop,” I begged, “just stop.”
She grinned. “You asked for it. The sad part is I was actually trying.”
“You’ve got to be tone deaf.”
“Probably,” she agreed matter-of-factly. “It runs in my family.”
I sighed and picked up the flier.
I scrolled through the music on my computer and tried to remember what people did last year. If I recalled correctly, one fraternity had a magic act, so not everyone took this show seriously, or at least the guys didn’t. The girls all seemed to.
I played the beginnings of a couple different songs and hummed along to them. Nothing seemed right. I drummed my fingers on my desk.
If only I could find the right song, then I’d be okay with this. I ran my fingers on the music note pendant on my necklace.
I hadn’t performed since Tyler died. I’d never performed without him in the audience.
My breath caught as that realization hit me.
“Stop stressing,” Amber said without turning around from her laptop. “I can feel your stress from here.”
I made a face at her behind her back, but her comment snapped me out of it. I shut my laptop. I didn’t have time to worry about this right now anyway. I needed to remember what was important—my grades. They didn’t let just anyone into law school. And since I didn’t get any reading done for biology this weekend, I was behind.
Well, not really. But for me, if I wasn’t ahead, then I was behind.
I grabbed my textbook, index cards, and colored pens and shoved them into my backpack. I had to get out of this room.
The Greek housing was located on the edge of campus, and it was still hot outside, so I caught the shuttle to the library. I loved the library, especially at the beginning of the semester when there were few students. It was calm and smelled of old books, the perfect environment for studying.
I found my favorite study carrel from last year, which was ironically amongst the science stacks. Few students came back here, unlike the literature and history sections of the library.
I spread everything out on the table and opened my textbook to chapter two titled The Study of Life. Ugh. Stick a fork in my eye. No, scratch that. Just rip my eyeballs out with barbed wire.
It took about an hour to outline chapter two, and I decided to keep the momentum going and start on chapter three as well, even though it wasn’t assigned until next week. First, though, I needed to find a snack. I had one of those growling stomachs that sounded like a small volcano was erupting. It was downright embarrassing. And right now, it was in full eruption mode.
The second floor vending machine was completely picked over. The only things left were Skittles and not-so-fresh-looking honey buns. No, thank you. I figured my stuff would be safe enough for me to venture to the first floor in search of another vending machine. I had yet to see another student since I sequestered myself in the study carrel.
The first floor vending machine was right by the front doors and looked like it had recently been restocked. I couldn’t decide between a bag of chips or peanut butter crackers, so I stood there staring at them, my hand poised above the coin slot with the final quarter.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped, dropping my quarter, which rolled under the machine. I spun around.
Luke stood there with his hands up, palms facing me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed his neck, gazing down at me sheepishly and looking freaking adorable. “That’s twice in one day I’ve had to apologize to you. Damn.”
“No, I’m sorry,” I said. Hadn’t I already had this conversation once today? “I’m a little jumpy.”
Awkward. My tongue had been in his mouth just two nights ago, but I barely knew him. I didn’t even know his last name. I thought it started with an E, and the only reason I knew that was because I had seen it on the pink Post-It on the trophy in the party room.
Should I bring it up? Say, oh, I don’t know—hey remember when we were literally connected at the wrist? And then we were attached other ways? Yeah, about that…
“Josh told me you two have a class together.”
Oh, good. A safe subject. I could talk about academics all day long.
“Yeah, Intro to Women’s Studies.”
Luke laughed, a warm sound that made my gut tighten. Even his laugh was sexy. “Oh, that’ll be good. I should sign up for the class just to see Josh make a fool of himself.”
No, you shouldn’t. Then I would have to drop it. Seeing him on a regular basis would seriously threaten my sanity.
I nodded, figuring my best defense was not participating in a long conversation that would encourage him to stick around. The library was frigid, but I was suddenly sweating. Sweating as in I’d-better-keep-my-arms-down kind of
sweating. I resisted the urge to do a little sniff check.
I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth, his mouth that had done wonderful things with my mouth. My gaze drifted to his strong arms that had been wrapped around me. I continued looking lower, and I abruptly snapped my neck up once I realized where my gaze was headed.
Seriously, Corinne? Checking out his stuff in the middle of the library? Hussy!
My attention was drawn to his hair. His damn fuzzy hair, the texture of which had seemed so fascinating in my drunken state. His damn soft, fuzzy, nice-to-run-my-fingers-over hair.
I shook my head a little, trying to physically shake those kinds of thoughts from my head.
“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked.
My eyes widened. What did he think I wanted? My eyes had just consumed his body like a starving woman consumed potato chips, so I could only imagine what he might be referring to. To be honest, no, I hadn’t gotten what I wanted. He was facing me, so I wasn’t able to check out his ass.
Shit. Where did that come from?
He gestured to the vending machine behind me. Oh, yeah. Food. Of course. Most people didn’t hang out in front of vending machines unless they wanted something, like food.
“No, I, um, dropped my quarter.” I reached up to the return coins button.
“Wait.” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Here.”
I shook my head. “I can’t take your money.”
He looked down at the coin and then back at me. “It’s a quarter. Besides, it’s my fault you lost yours.”
Everything inside me was screaming not to take it. Stupid, I know. It was as if accepting the money meant something that it didn’t. It was just a measly quarter.
I held out my hand and he placed the quarter in it, his fingers brushing my palm. The physical contact made my palm tingle, making me wonder what other parts of my body would tingle at his touch. I stepped closer to the vending machine, wanting to put some distance between us before my traitorous thoughts got the better of me again.
I turned my back to him, hoping he couldn’t see how flustered I was. I put the money in the machine and randomly selected something, which turned out to be a bag of pretzels. At least it wasn’t an old crusty honey bun.
I gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the quarter.”
“Cori,” he said as I was walking away.
Damn. So close to escaping. I turned around slowly.
“Is this”—he gestured between the two of us—“weird because of what happened Saturday night?”
My cheeks burned. I guess he saw past my guise of normalcy. “No, of course not.” Yes, it’s totally weird. Is it weird that I’m feeling that urge to run my fingers over your hair right now?
“You just seem kind of, I don’t know, unnerved or something.”
I shrugged and put my hands out, palms up as if to say I don’t know what you’re talking about.
But I knew what he was talking about. He was talking about the way he made my hair stand on end, the way tingles were forming in my belly, and the way I could practically feel the softness of his lips. The way he looked at me with an intensity that made my knees go weak, knees that had been firmly locked in place for so long.
Something about him got to me.
He took a step closer to me, narrowing the distance that I so desperately needed. “It was just a kiss.”
Technically, it was several kisses. Or maybe since we never broke apart from the initial kiss, it was considered one kiss? Either way, it was several minutes of lips and tongues and heat.
“I know,” I said. Except I didn’t know. I didn’t usually kiss random guys I’d just met. I was out of my element.
“Good.” He flashed his killer smile. I noticed now that his teeth weren’t quite as perfect as I originally thought. In the blinding light of the library, I could see his left canine was slightly crooked. “So I’ll definitely see you at the next Beta Chi and Alpha Delta event?”
“Maybe.”
“Let me put it this way.” He leaned on the snack machine, looking at me. “I hope to see you at the next event.”
“Um, okay,” I stammered, refusing to look at him. Lord only knew what I would agree to if I didn’t extricate myself from this situation. “Bye.”
I turned on my heel and walked—not ran, though I wanted to—back to the stairwell to return to the safety of my second floor study carrel.
Once there, I groaned and banged my head against the desktop. It took several minutes for my heart to stop racing. I just had one thing to say about that.
What the hell?
I didn’t even know this guy. He was practically a stranger. And besides that, I wasn’t ready. It wasn’t right, not when Tyler… When I…
Luke was just a momentary distraction, and that moment was over.
So why were my hands shaking so badly I could barely open my bag of pretzels? I needed to get a grip, and fast, because I was hanging on by a thread, and Luke could very well cut it.
Chapter Six
“Come look at this,” Amber said.
I peered over her shoulder at her laptop, where she had Brad’s Facebook page open.
“What are you doing? Stalking him?”
She made a face. “He friended me. There’s nothing wrong with being interested in my new friend.”
I snorted. “Good comeback.”
“Thank you, but yes, I am stalking. After some of the guys I dated last year…” She cringed.
She had dated some doozies. I’d gotten a play-by-play after each of her dates. There was the guy who sent his food back to the kitchen at a restaurant because the vegetables and the meat were touching. Another guy we’d dubbed the Catman lived alone in his apartment with seven cats. She’d dated one guy for about a month, and she’d really liked him, but then his sister came to visit and he’d kissed her on the mouth both when he greeted her and when he’d said bye to her. After witnessing that, Amber couldn’t bring herself to kiss him.
So I could understand why she was doing some recon on a potential boyfriend.
“His relationship status is single, so that’s a relief.” She’d also dated a guy who’d been cheating on his girlfriend to go out with her.
I’m telling you—Amber attracted all the winners.
“Go to his pictures,” I directed. The first one that popped up made me burst out laughing. He must have been in middle school, and he had to have been the biggest geek ever. He was sitting with a tuba. His T-shirt was tucked into his jeans, and he wore thick glasses and had a mouthful of braces.
“Stop laughing,” Amber chided, but then she started giggling, too. “This is so wrong. We shouldn’t be laughing at him.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, regaining my composure. “See what other pictures he has posted.”
Amber clicked on the other pictures. “Aw, look how cute he is in a tux.” The picture was probably taken at his high school prom.
“His date’s pretty,” I commented.
Amber gave me a look that said why are you saying nice things about his old girlfriends? Oops. Girl code violation.
“He has good taste,” I placated. “That’s probably why he likes you.”
She tilted her head. “Good point. There’s Luke.” She elbowed me and I pushed her arm away.
I turned away from the screen. I’d managed to go a full twenty-four hours without seeing him, and I didn’t want to somehow jinx it by looking at pictures of him online.
“When are you going to spill?” she asked. “What’s the deal with you and Luke?”
“There’s no deal.”
“Then why are you being all weird about him?”
I gave her a look. Why did everyone—meaning Amber and Luke—think I was being weird? I wasn’t being weird. And anyway, I wasn’t discussing it with her because there was nothing to discuss. It was a one-time thing, the result of too many Mai Tais and definitely one too many zip ties.
She sighed and clicked
on the next picture. “Look, there’s Vanessa.” She leaned forward and looked into the background of the photo. “Is that…?”
“Make it full screen.” I peered at it.
Neither of us said anything for a second. Then we slowly turned to look at each other.
“Oh, shit,” I said.
Whoever took the picture had caught Luke and me kissing in the background. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but once you knew it was there, it was pretty obvious. Obvious that I was the aggressor in the picture.
My arms were wrapped around Luke’s neck, pulling him closer to me. My body was pressed against his and his arms were around me. I was stuck on him like a suction cup.
My belly tingled as I remembered the feel of his lips on mine, his tongue tangled with mine. I swallowed.
The tingling turned into a brick of guilt as I stared at the evidence of my indiscretion. How could I have lost control like that? It was wrong.
“No, no, no,” I whispered. “This is bad.”
“I don’t know.” Amber tilted her head to get a look at the picture from another angle. “You can only see half your face, but it’s actually a pretty good picture of you.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She grinned. “I know, but you’re so fun to mess with.”
“This isn’t funny.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stay the impending flow of tears.
Amber put her hand on my arm. “Cori, what is it?”
“I’m not tagged in it, am I?”
She checked. “No.”
“Thank God.”
“What’s going on? Talk to me.”
I ran my fingers over the smooth metal of my silver necklace. “What if someone from back home sees it?”
Understanding shone in Amber’s eyes. “It’s been four months. It’s okay to move on, you know?”
I did know that. I had known it. I’d even begun to feel more normal, to the point where Tyler wasn’t my first thought when I woke each morning. And I’d been determined to make a fresh start this year.
But now after finding out he’d killed himself—
I choked back a sob, wrapping my arms around my body.
She came to me and hugged me. “I know you don’t like to talk about this, because, well, he died and all, but weren’t you two having problems anyway?”
Letting Go Page 5