“That’s cool.” Usually I couldn’t get my best friend to shut up and now I could barely get her to tell me how her visit at home was.
“Did you tell them about…you know who?” I knew I was playing with fire bringing up Hunter, but her parents had to have seen the cloud that followed her around lately.
She nodded, pulling more things out of a box. “My mom said I looked like the dead and was confused, since she thought I’d be redder from the sun. I told her about…him and how much I love him. God, I even cried.”
I ran my hand along my sheet, brushing invisible crumbs to the floor. “Did she help any?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “No one can. I mean, I want Hunter to be here or for me to go to school there. Nothing you can do about that.” She tossed a few more pillows onto her bed and turned toward me. “I don’t get how you’re not sad at all. I mean, it’s like Jason was nothing to you. I thought you lov—”
“Ugh, the L-word.” I rubbed my forehead and looked out the window. “I do, but I can’t keep thinking of him being miles away.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Because you’ll be like me?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be all mushy and shit. I can’t do that with classes coming.”
“Sydney, you act like love is a disease. It’s not bad to miss someone.”
“I know.” I looked at the tattoo on my arm, remembering Jason holding my hand as I lost my ink virginity. “It’s different for me. I’m not used to it. I fill my summers with boys so that, when I come back to Arizona, I can be more focused on school and work, only partying when there’s a reason.”
She threw a stuffed orange cat at me. “You’re strange. You’re lucky you’re my best friend. That’s why I deal with your crazy.”
I laughed, tossing the cat back to her. “Thanks.”
Amelia finished unpacking as I sat on my bed, reading a book. She tossed her messenger bag on the office chair. Pins covered its entire face. I squinted at the pins, trying to see what each displayed. She made some artsy ones. Some were blasts of color; others were mini versions of famous paintings. She had a few band logos as well. I smiled when I found the rat one I gave her so she could show some love to Emilie Autumn as well.
She raised an eyebrow. “Why are you smiling and looking at my bag?”
“Looking at the EA pin I gave you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You mean the pin you forced on me. I tried to take it off and you poked me with it.”
I waved her off. “Whatever. You love it now.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded at my Opheliac album cover on my side of the room. “Is that the only poster you’re going to have?”
“So far, yeah.”
“At least you don’t have to repair the walls much when we leave,” she said, taking a fluffy checkered blanket and a pillow with a picture of the Eiffel Tower on it from a box.
Amelia was the only person I knew who loved to sleep with a million pillows. There were four small square pillows lining the wall along her bed. Each displayed a major city: Tokyo, London, New York, and Rome. Now, with the addition of Paris, there were five pillows.
“When you finish, you wanna go do something?”
“Sure. That might help keep my mind off of things,” she said, glancing at her cell phone on the desk.
***
The art museum wasn’t my idea of fun, but it cheered Amelia up a little. That night I snuggled with my Scooby-Doo again, wishing it was Jason. I fell away into dreamland.
I found myself in a black room. There was a crack of light up ahead. I hugged myself, noticing all I had on was a thin dress and no shoes. As I drifted toward the light, it moved, as if pulling away from me. I felt desperate as the darkness pressed down like a giant hand. It was trying to consume me.
My body rushed for the light before I thought to move. The light danced like a firefly, taunting me with its flare. I tripped over the darkness and fell, rolling into the abyss. I felt myself falling.
Falling.
Falling forever.
Until something, or someone, grabbed hold of me. I was still, frozen. At first I was too afraid to look up, but when I did, I saw someone my heart leaped for. It was Jason. He had saved me yet again.
“You need to be more careful, Syd,” he said, giving me his smile that made me melt inside.
I wanted—no, needed—him to wrap his arms around me, to put himself in me. His face was perfect, as if carved by the gods themselves. His hand started to slip away. I was about to fall again. I did all that I was capable of. I screamed.
As if struck by lightning, I shot up in bed. My entire body was soaked in sweat and my blanket was a ball on the bottom of the mattress. The room was dark, and Amelia was fast asleep. The dream felt so realistic, as if Jason was truly there, trying to save me. A tear ran down my cheek. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. Scooby-Doo was on the floor. I picked him up and tried to fall back asleep. As soon as I closed my eyes, my cell phone buzzed. Someone had texted me.
My hand moved toward the nightstand like a limp noodle that was cooked too long. Once my phone was in hand, I hit a button and the screen lit up, almost blinding me. I quickly glanced at the time. It was two in the morning. Who was texting me so damn early?
I clicked on the message, and when I saw the sender’s name my heart jumped into my throat.
Jason: I don’t know why but I felt like I needed to check on u.
I reread his text five times. He felt like he needed to check up on me? Did he have a similar dream? Were we linked somehow? That was ridiculous.
I had to reply.
Me: U have no idea. I was in a nightmare. I needed u & u saved me from miles away.
Jason: Really? I had a dream where u were falling & I couldn’t get to u.
Me: You’re my hero, Jason King!
Jason: I love u, Sydney West. Damn it hurts so much.
Me: I love u 2.
Jason: Sweet dreams, I’ll protect u always.
Me: I know u will. Good-night.
My phone felt heavy in my hand. Jason had been with me somehow. It was like the universe was trying to tell me something. Maybe love could last. Love. Whoever thought I’d be all right using that word?
***
When classes started, I already felt drained. All I looked forward to was messaging Jason. I felt like I was slowly becoming similar to Amelia, and I hated it. I had to focus more. That was the key.
“Today we’re going to talk about Shakespeare and his works,” Professor Valona said. He had his back to us as he messed with his computer.
“Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.”
That was Shakespeare. It was going to be a long day if all I could think of was love quotes from famous dead people.
What was it with school and Shakespeare anyway? He was forced down my throat in high school, and now college? I liked Shakespeare when I had the aid of SparkNotes, but why was he someone to be obsessed about? It seemed like he was a disturbed man who enjoyed the act of death.
I scribbled absentmindedly on the cover of my notebook out of boredom, just lines and stars. That was until the lines swirled and crossed, turning into words. It took a minute to realize I was writing a quote down on the cover as if it were meant to be there. I didn’t remember thinking of the quote, yet there it was in my bubbly handwriting.
But we loved with a love that was more than love.
Edgar Allen Poe. When did I start quoting him? What I needed was fresh air. There was still thirty minutes left in class, but I couldn’t wait. I was a water balloon about to burst if one more drop of water fell.
Somehow I was bewitched. I prayed as classes dragged on and projects grew closer to their due dates that I’d fall back into the routine of school. I needed to be distracted. My heart, soul, and body ached at the absence of Jason. How could someone make you wish you were broken in two? If I were in two, a part of me could’ve stayed in California. Such crazy talk.
That was a foolish girl speaking. Focus, I needed to focus.
First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.
Now George Bernard Shaw’s quotes were flowing out of my pen. I wasn’t well. I was losing my mind. I left the lecture as my professor talked about the significance of Julius Caesar. The goal was to go down to the Student Union and grab some food to clear my lunatic thoughts. Only I found myself sitting on the steps of the closest library, texting Jason. The love bug was such a pain in the ass. Was there a way to kill it? Did I really want to?
Chapter Five
Homecoming parties were all anyone could talk about. I usually went to a club instead of college parties. Homecoming was the worst of them all, full of people “testing” if they were wild or not. If that wasn’t bad enough, some students were trying to figure out their sexuality. Basically, homecoming consisted of minors having too much sex or sneaking shots of vodka and getting sick all over the dorms. I was thankful the freshmen were at the other end of campus. Upper classmen had their own buildings, and we were also closer to the local mall.
I was going to pass on the frat parties and stay in. Some of my classes had already given me essays to write, so I wanted to start researching articles to help with my theses.
“Syd, can we please go? I think an after party might be good for both of us.” Amelia wouldn’t stop begging, not since she brought home a flyer someone handed her advertising the stupid school traditional party. If I found out who, I’d break their arm.
I waved her off and sat on my bed, looking down at my phone. “You can if you want. I’m over the whole drinking upside-down beer bong thing. Been there and threw that up.”
Amelia held her hands together like she was praying. “But I can’t go alone. Haven’t you seen those specials on the news about girls who don’t use the buddy system? Don’t you want me to stop being depressed?”
There was no use. She wanted to hang with me and probably a few other girls from her classes. I guess there was no harm in a few drinks and dancing since I knew she wouldn’t care about the boys with Hunter clouding her thoughts.
I sat my cell phone next to me and tapped my nails on its screen. “Enough. If you want to go, I guess I’ll tag along. The parties here aren’t as good as the ones in Los Angeles, but they’re still parties.”
“Really?” She grabbed me and almost broke my ribs with her hug. “Thank you, Syd!”
“But…”
Amelia let me go and gave me a long look. “What?” She sounded tired.
I gave her a coy smile. “You buy all my drinks at the next bar we go to.”
“Deal!” She danced like a little girl about to enter a candy store.
The summer maxed me out, and if Jason wasn’t going to be at the party, what was the point? But partying wasn’t torture, so I’d humor my best friend.
***
We skipped the actual homecoming; it had no alcohol. For the first time since we returned to Tempe, Amelia appeared happier at the after party. If I looked close enough, I could tell the cloud of sorrow was still in the corner, but she was branching out, wanting to live a little.
She wore a white dress with leggings and low heels. She didn’t blend in with the crowd and dress like a slut. Even in California, she wouldn’t dress like a sex kitten. I had to respect that. I wore a short crimson dress and matching heels. It didn’t hurt to look hot, but I wasn’t going to enter anyone’s bed tonight.
The party was held in the Victorian building where the sorority girls lived. They were all former high school cheerleaders who had so much school spirit, it drove me insane. Luckily all those girls were already shitfaced and making out throughout the house.
“What should we do?” Amelia looked around at all the sweaty bodies pressed into the room, wiggling around to the music.
Before I could answer, cheering came from our right. A group of guys circled around the beer keg. One of the football players had his hands on the keg while two of his friends held his beefy legs in the air. A blonde girl in a tight purple dress put the mouth piece to his lips. Everyone kept cheering, lifting their red cups in the air as he chugged. In the next room over, another group of guys were playing beer pong. I shook my head. What was it with guys and beer?
“Stay close. Don’t want you disappearing with some weirdo,” I whispered to Amelia.
She cackled. “I’m a taken woman. If any of these guys touch me, I’m gonna punch them in the throat.”
I gave her a curious look. I’ve never seen her hurt anyone in my life.
She swallowed and nudged me with her arm. “I’ll have you punch them in the throat.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. “That sounds more like it.” I scanned the place and found the makeshift bar in the back. “Look, there’s the hard liquor. Let’s go over there.” I dragged Amelia by the elbow before she could respond.
“What’s your poison?” I had to shout over the music. The stereo was on full blast and it was located a few yards from us.
“What?” Amelia yelled back, covering her ears.
I pointed at the bottles of liquor and then the empty glass I sat in front of her.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have whatever.”
Amelia was a lightweight. I decided to give her a weak drink so I wouldn’t have to drag her ass back to the dorm.
She watched people come and go as I poured our drinks. I gave myself a double whiskey shot and Amelia a screwdriver after I found some orange juice in the fridge.
I downed my drink in under a minute. Amelia babied hers, giving me déjà vu from Los Angeles.
The music changed to a more likeable tune. As Ke$ha came through the speakers, I hit the dance floor. Amelia was behind me after she finished her drink. At least she was smart. Never leave your drink alone and plan on drinking it later.
As we danced, Amelia met up with some of her friends from her Russian class. They all wanted her to join them at their table. She tried to take me, but I declined. She pouted and left. I was fine alone. Most people knew not to mess with me. I gave off a leave-me-the-fuck-alone vibe.
After leaving the dance section of the house, I went upstairs to get away from all the bodies. There were countless closed doors with an array of sounds coming from each one. It was easy to name the sounds. Usually, it was sex. Plumes of smoke hit me as I went down the hall in search of a restroom. Of course no party would be complete without the potheads. I’d hunt them down and smoke a bowl with them if I knew they had the good stuff. College kids usually didn’t know how to test quality marijuana and ended up with extremely expensive but crappy marijuana.
There was a tall, tattoo-covered guy standing in the doorway of the bathroom. I peeked around him to find a blonde girl on her knees in front of the toilet. Just my luck, the first bathroom I find and someone had to be sick in it. I was about to go when the guy turned around.
He looked down at me from his almost seven foot height. His long dark hair and brown eyes reminded me of someone. If only I could place him with all the faces I’ve seen over the years, parties, and one-night stands.
As I tried to place him, I could tell he was doing the same thing with me. Then it hit me like a bullet fired from a gun. He was Andrew, a summer boy from last year. I caught him making out with a dancer from some hot pop star’s concert. Usually I forgot a face, but he pissed me off by ripping my favorite pair of panties and then shoving his tongue down the first girl’s throat he saw after screwing me.
“Sydney? Sydney from Malibu?” He squinted at me, looking shocked. Fuck, he figured out who I was too.
“Gotta go,” I said over my shoulder and ran back down the hall. There was no way in hell I was going to linger around to catch up with the likes of him. I’d rather hold my hand in fire.
I made my way outside. With the fresh air in my lungs, I lit a cigarette. As the nicotine kicked in, I simmered down. After two cigarettes, I felt well enough to face the party again.
Bodies were pressed together, form
ing a human maze. I searched for Amelia to see if she was okay. I couldn’t see with all the chaos going on around me. A couple of guys were fighting, and the sound of broken glass echoed across the house. If I didn’t know any better, it sounded like a window had been shattered.
My nicotine high faded away fast. I got a shot of whiskey to keep me on track. As I downed another shot, I heard the music change. The tempo swelled and the lyrics poured all around me, hauntingly beautiful.
You’re the reason I breathe. Watching you with him is like being shot in the heart. If only I…
It was a song that was meant to mend a friendship. Brad Penn’s voice made my skin crawl. His touch lingered on my waist, neck, lips as I heard the words. I bumped into the rock star at a club during the summer. He used me probably out of boredom, even though he was entangled with Lacey Moore, one of the hottest female rock stars of this generation.
In a way, it was incredible to be able to say you had sex with a rock star, but who’d believe you? I had no proof, and even if I did, they’d be nasty pictures to treasure. Brad wasn’t the man I wanted inside my head. I blocked out the lyrics as I went for the exit once again.
Outside I decided to text Amelia and mentally kicked myself for not doing it sooner. She replied that she was having fun and one of her friends would bring her home. With her out from under my wing, I was free to do as I pleased.
With Brad’s song far away, Jason came into mind. He saved me from sleeping with random men. There was something about him…maybe how he wouldn’t let me release him. I was thankful he was a fighter. God knew I needed someone to save me from myself. I wished more than anything that he was in Arizona with me.
Memories weren’t the best thing for me. They were my enemy, mostly. I hit the local liquor store to buy a bottle of Jack Daniels. If I couldn’t have my Jason, I could at least spend the night with Jack. He always knew where it hurt.
Breaking Down Sydney (Sydney West #2) Page 3