by M. J. Fields
I cover my mouth to stop the loud bark of laughter that’s threatening to erupt as he stomps toward the front doors of my dorm.
He looks back at me and rolls his eyes again. “Let me ask you a question.”
My mouth goes completely dry when his eyes easily pin mine … again.
“Any man ever tell you that he’s made you scream Moore a hundred times in his imagination, even though you’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since he did it last?”
I shake my head ever so slightly.
“You have until game day to let me know if I can do it again. And Flower, I’m warning you, I’m not one to toy with, or will do you dirty. The minute I don’t think you’re in it, I’ll end it and do it without a second thought. So, Jamie G., make good decisions, understand?”
I nod once.
“And don’t walk alone at night, or so help me God, I will not let you come for weeks.”
He leans in, and so do I. I close my eyes, needing to taste his tongue, and he chuckles deeply.
“Get inside where it’s safe.”
I open my eyes, just to see him turn and walk away.
Jamie
I’ve often heard the expression, sometimes you’ve got to go through hell to get to heaven. But, as I go through the past couple days, loving my classes and smitten at the possibility of living my best life, especially now as I look at the apple I’m about ready to take a bite out of—forbidden fruit—I wonder if, by making the decision to agree to Mitch’s terms and conditions, I will be walking through heaven and will wind up in hell.
“You’re grinning,” Lisa whispers from her seat next to me in the cafeteria.
“I’m thinking about how different things would be if Adam hadn’t taken a bite out of that apple in the Garden of Eden.”
As I’m chewing my apple, Lisa and Christy begin whispering to one another. Some may think it rude, but I love the connection the two of them share. It’s one I’ve always yearned to have. As an only child, and being the child of Tyson Grandison, no one really shared secrets with me. All had the misconception that I would judge them. None knew I truly envied that kind of friendship. It did, however, give me plenty of time to learn how to read the unspoken and gain a deeper understanding of people, their actions, and their motives.
When they look at me, I smile.
“We’ve been thinking about ways for the four of us to spend more time together.”
I feel my smile growing.
“There’s a bar close by, and they have karaoke on Thursdays. Do you think—”
“I’m in.”
“Do you think Elle would—”
When Christy stops talking, and they both look up, I’m half-expecting Logan and Mitch to be standing behind me. However, when I follow their line of vision, I see Elle and our RA, Fletcher Reeves, sitting down.
Lisa smiles. “Fletcher Reeves, what do we owe the distinguished honor of an upperclassman as a dining companion tonight?”
“He’s not your typical upperclassman,” Elle answers when he doesn’t.
“No?” he asks.
Elle shakes her head in answer and begins listing off what makes him different. “No, you’re our RA, you’re my swimming partner—”
“Your friend,” he interrupts.
“My friend,” Elle agrees.
I glance out of the corner of my eye and see Christy and Lisa exchange glances.
Knowing Lisa has a thing for Fletcher, I make a quick decision to step in.
“Oh no, he has to be voted in, and he has to be a friend to all of us. Plead his case.”
Elle laugh. “His case?”
Lisa nods. “We need to know that he’s trustworthy.”
“And can keep secrets,” Christy whispers loudly.
He smiles. “I’ve already kept one.”
“Do tell.” I lean in encouragingly.
“The first night, you four had visitors. I didn’t blow your cover.”
“He didn’t,” Elle agrees. “Why didn’t you?”
“I owed you one.” He winks.
Oh shit. I figuratively palm my face.
“Ooo … I think there’s more to this story. If we’re going to turn our friendship quartet into a quintet, we’re going to need more detail,” Christy interjects.
Apparently, when Elle checked in on our first day, Fletcher was carrying an armful of boxes as she was lugging in her belongings, they bumped into each other, and boxes went flying.
“I nearly gave her a black eye, so I definitely owed her one,” Fletcher says, seeming a little less … stiff.
I smile. “Okay, you have one point toward the required friendship total.”
“And how many points are required?” he asks.
“I’m not sure. I’m kind of making this up as I go,” I admit, and everyone laughs.
“We do the swim thing a couple days a week, and he accompanies me to dance class on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” Elle reaches over and touches his cream cable knit sweater. “Yeah, I think he’s friendship material.”
“Both of which I need just as much as you, Elle. Don’t sell yourself short.” He gives her arm a squeeze.
“You need help?” Christy asks.
He nods. “Unfortunately, I need more help than that.”
“No way. We’ve seen you do skits in lab; you’re fabulous,” Lisa says sweetly.
“I agree, but he’s stressing auditions,” she tells us.
I lean over and whisper, “We need him to take an oath and swear in, right?”
She nods vigorously.
“Tell Christy.”
She whispers to her, and they both grin as they look at me and nod.
I look at him and wing it. “Fletcher, you must solemnly swear that nothing you see, learn, or hear within this friendship quintet spills over to your obligations as our Lawrinson RA.”
He raises his hand in the air as if under oath. “I swear.”
I stand and look at all of them. “All in favor of Fletcher becoming part of the circle, say aye.”
“Aye,” they all say with a nod.
I sit back down and decide to push for more time with him so that Lisa, the somewhat quiet one who blends, can be seen, so to speak. “We’ve been thinking that the three of us need some work with vocals, too.”
He nods. “Well, if you want to join us at five in the—”
“No!” we yell in unison.
“Well then,” Fletcher jokes.
“Are you kidding me? Sleep is important.” Lisa shrugs. “But so is our time together.”
“And since we seem to be spending less and less time together, as we all get into our routines, we’ve looked into a way to spend more girl …” Christy pauses. “Or now …” She stops and tries to think of a different term.
“Squad time?” Lisa offers.
I smile. “Oh, wow, we are a squad. Squad time … I like it.”
“Squad time, it is,” Christy declares. “In looking at ways for more squad time, while considering that we are here for a common objective—an education—but still, it’s about the music and, more importantly, our friendship and our time together.” She looks at Elle and Fletcher. “Since you two seem to be spending a lot of time together …”
Her leaving it hanging is making this a bit awkward, but God, I love that girl.
“We have a lot in common,” Fletcher remarks, making it a little less so.
“Like what?” Lisa asks.
He looks down at his watch and seems to position it. “Well, I suppose it’s the same as all of us. Music speaks to us.”
“It sure does,” I agree.
“Fletcher, being part of the squad, we’ll extend the invitation to you. It’s last-minute, and being new to us, you can opt-out.” She looks at Elle. “You don’t get the same courtesy.”
I laugh. “We know you don’t have any other plans.”
“Well, maybe I do,” Elle defends dramatically, finishing with a gasp.
“We know you, Elle.”
Christy sighs. “Thursday is off-campus dance class, shower, dinner, lab, bed, alarm at four-thirty, snooze until four forty-five, before you head out the door.”
Elle looks down and smiles.
“We’re hitting Sound tonight.” Christy claps her hands.
“Isn’t that a twenty-one and over club?” Fletcher asks.
“It is. Remember, your squad now,” I remind him.
He holds his hands up. “Okay, I’ll keep your secrets as long as I get invited to the slumber parties and pillow—”
Fletcher stops mid-sentence when the empty chair bedside Elle screeches across the floor.
Logan.
And so, when the chair next to me is pulled back abruptly, I know it’s Mitch.
“Hey.” He smiles menacingly, but in a playful manner.
Instead of smiling, I roll my eyes, look away, and say, “Hey.”
Elle looks over at Logan and nods. “Hi.”
Logan scowls at Elle. “Spill it.”
“Spill what?”
I have to stifle a giggle because she doesn’t see that he’s green as hell with envy.
Mitch nudges me with his knee, and I look over at him. He’s amused, too.
Logan seethes, “Secrets that involve sleepovers with guys who are supposed to be responsible for keeping you freshies in check.”
Christy forces a laugh. “You two have already had one with us, and we didn’t even make you take the oath to the squad.”
My eyes widen when I feel his hand on my knee. Then I snap my eyes to Mitch, and he shrugs. I scowl, and he … winks.
“Most Playful Player” award winner, for sure.
“We don’t do squad. We do team,” Logan tells her.
I look away from Mitch, whose hand is still on my knee, to Logan. “Well then, we can’t tell you.”
Logan smirks at me. “Even though my dad gave you ladies four tickets to his private box for Saturday’s home game?”
Logan Links say whaaaaat?
I see Mitch’s body shake in silent laughter, and he squeezes my knee.
“Number 12, Lucas Links, the Lucas Links, invited me to join him in his private box?” My voice squeaks and Mitch now laughs out loud. I push his hand off my knee.
Logan shakes his head and sighs. “He invited the four of you to join him and my stepmom, Tessa, to watch the game.”
I close my eyes and silently thank God. Opening them I look at Logan. “Doesn’t matter. We accept. Hand over the tickets before you change your mind or something.”
Logan leans forward and looks at Fletcher. “You didn’t give the girls the tickets?”
Fletcher shakes his head. “I planned to do so this evening.”
“More interested in pillow fights and sleepovers than football?” Logan’s question is more an accusation as he scowls at Fletcher.
I look at Fletcher to gauge the level of offense he may have taken to Logan being … Logan. None expression at all.
Mitch chuckles. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“Fix your fucking skirt,” Logan sneers at Mitch.
Mitch shrugs. “My bad, man.”
“I don’t give a damn about skirts, I wanna know I am one hundred percent guaranteed that number 12, Lucas Links, personally invited me—”
“Us,” Christy interjects.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I wave her off and look back at Logan. “Number 12—”
“Yes, Jamie, he invited you four ladies. To clarify, that would be Elle, you, Christy, and that girl.” Logan points at Lisa. “Not that one.” He points at Fletcher.
I have to remind myself that this isn’t all about me, but I never dreamed I would have access to someone who may hold the proverbial key to my paternity. A key I would never disrespect my mom enough to ask for. Plus …
Uh-oh … Fletcher just laughed at Logan.
“The fuck is so funny?” Logan snaps at him.
“You.” Fletcher points at him.
“Me?” Logan huffs.
“Let me explain to you in words you’ll understand. I am not in the least bit intimidated by you, or boys like you.”
“You mean men,” Logan seethes.
“I don’t need a team. I’ve done just fine without one my entire life. I’m here based on merit. I was the valedictorian of my high school.”
“So was fucking I.” Logan laughs at him.
“A class of over three hundred students. Where did you go to school again?” Fletcher asks.
“None of your damn business,” Logan replies.
“I’ve looked into you. You come from a small town, played team sports your entire life, and done very well at them.”
“Okay, Captain Obvious.” Logan looks around the table, giving off a look like Fletcher is ridiculous.
“You are from a well-known and wealthy family. Hometown hero type that breeds big egos and, clearly, poor people skills.”
“Aw fuck,” Mitch mumbles.
Logan pushes his chair back, and Elle grabs his knee, stopping him.
He looks at her, blue eyes wide and wild.
“Please don’t,” she whispers to him.
His eyes narrow at her as he sits forward and glares at Fletcher.
“I stopped running with Elle because you seemed to think it was some sort of competition,” Fletcher continues. “It wasn’t at all. It was—”
“You were staring at her ass,” Logan says through his teeth.
I glance at Lisa, who sinks down in her seat a bit. Poor girl.
Fletcher doesn’t deny Logan’s allegation. “I may have looked, but I can assure you I wasn’t staring.”
Fletcher looks from Logan to Elle. “I hope you don’t find that offensive, and that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention to do so.”
She shakes her head and looks down.
“She finds it fucking offensive, bitch boy,” Logan hisses.
“Logan, enough,” she snaps at him.
Again, Fletcher laughs at his inane remark. “Bitch boy? Can’t you come up with something more substantial than that?”
Logan again starts to stand and looks at Fletcher like he did Jones that first night.
Mitch sighs. “Here we go.”
“Do something,” I hiss at him, still looking at Logan.
When I feel his hand on my knee moving up, I glare at him.
“You told me to do something, so I am.”
I smack his hand away, and he chuckles.
“This isn’t funny.”
Logan sits back down, leans forward again, glaring at Fletcher, fists balled on the table.
“I’ve had bigger men than you come after me. Some may have even gotten a few jabs in, but none broke me, Links. So, if you want a fight, I won’t back down, but it certainly won’t be here, where I risk a full scholarship based on what’s in here.” He taps the side of his head.
Logan begins to stand yet again, and Elle grabs him as Mitch gently squeezes my inner thigh again. Then Elle grabs Logan’s hand and looks at Fletcher, almost pleading with him to back down.
“We’ve come to be friends, Elle. I’m telling you that you deserve better than that type of boy.”
“It’s not like that with her and me, so back the fuck off.” Logan sits back and pulls that white baseball hat over his eyes.
Elle looks at Fletcher. “We’re just friends.”
“Good, because I’m sure you’re smarter than that.” Fletcher points at Logan as he stands and takes his plate, glaring at Logan before he looks at me. “I’m in.”
I’m confused. “For …?”
“Tonight,” he says as he turns and walks away.
“What’s tonight?” Mitch asks sternly.
“Never you mind,” I say, pushing his wandering hand away … again.
He leans in. “How much work are you expecting here”—he sniffs the air around me—“Flower?”
Elle snaps, “What?”
I whip my head around to look at her.
Logan shrugs
.
“What the hell, Logan?” She pulls her hand away from wherever it is beneath the table.
“The words are: thank you, Logan.”
“For what?” she gasps.
“For saving you from that.” He nods toward the door that Fletcher is walking out of.
She stands abruptly. “He’s my friend.”
“Keep it that way, because that’s not the kind of guy you need.”
“That’s for me to determine.”
“You end up with him, and you are gonna get sick of eating him out.”
Mitch chuckles, as Elle asks, “What does that even mean?”
“He has a fucking vagina!”
“And you’re a giant tool.” She turns on her heels and walks away.
Logan leans forward, grabs Elle’s plate, takes a hard-boiled egg off it, and shoves it in his mouth, as he looks at Mitch and nods toward the door.
They both stand, and then Mitch leans down. “Two days, Flower. Tick-tock.” I’m shocked when he pops a loud kiss to the top of my head.
“What the hell?” I laugh as I look up at him, and he smiles.
Once he’s gone, I look at Christy and Lisa, who are staring at me.
Together, they ask, “So?”
I stand, reach over, grab Elle’s plate, and mine too. “I have no idea, but I think that boy is insane.”
I walk away, head spinning, feeling all sorts of warm inside, and think, he’s making me that way, too.
Jamie
“I am so ready to have fun.” Elle smiles up at the neon sign in front of Sound.
“Same,” our whole squad, but Fletcher, responds.
“Not you?” She nudges him with an elbow.
“If I’m being honest, I’m not a fan of karaoke.”
“I’ve never done it,” she admits. “I’m gonna watch tonight. See what it’s like.”
“The hell you are.” I laugh, linking my arm in hers and dragging her inside.
After passing the ID check, Fletcher tells us he’s going to grab a table.
“What do you want to drink?” Lisa asks him.
“Water or club soda is fine with me.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out some cash, handing her a twenty.
“I’ve got the water.” Lisa smiles at him before turning to walk away.