by J. L. Beck
Jude’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “Quiet? I’ve always considered you to be bubbly and approachable. Or at least you were with me.”
“First impressions are important. I needed to make at least one friend.” I grin over the rim of the cup.
Jude grins back at me. “It was a ploy. I see it now.”
“Don’t be giving all my secrets up, now.”
We both laugh and continue drinking our coffee. I’m sad when I reach the bottom of my cup because I know this is the end of our epic coffee date.
“We need to do this more often. I miss you,” I tell her.
“I know, and we will.” She grins. “In the meantime, let’s hope you get a new roommate and that she’s half as cool as me.”
Getting up, I grab my bag off the floor and sling it over my shoulder. Then I give Jude a hug, and we say our goodbyes before parting ways.
I’m feeling down as I walk to my afternoon class, looking down at the sidewalk and ignoring all the people passing by me. My thoughts shift to Cage, and I wonder for half a second what he’s doing before reminding myself that I don’t actually care.
It’s not like we’re friends. I’m his tutor, he’s a football god that every woman in the university wants to bang. We’re totally and completely the opposite of friends.
When I walk into the classroom for economics class, it’s half full, some students are lazily slumped in their seats while others are talking amongst each other. As soon as I walk into the room, the voices become hushed whispers, and I swear I can feel eyes on me, burning into my back as I take my usual seat in the second row.
“I can’t believe she turned him down. What a bitch. She’s not even that pretty.” Some chick whispers behind me, but she might as well have screamed the words because if I heard it, so did everyone else in the room.
Ugh. I knew going to that party was a mistake, damn you, Arabella. As it turned out, she wasn’t even there, she ended up going out with some guy to the movies. Gritting my teeth, I tug my books out of my bag and ignore the whispers in the room that fly about.
The second people find out I’m tutoring Cage, there will be more rumors. Damnit. If I didn’t need the money he was offering, so badly, I would text him right now and call it off, but I do, so for now, I will follow through. No matter the shit people talked.
A few minutes later, the professor comes out of his office, and class starts. I can still hear whispering behind me or maybe no one’s whispering, and I’m just so used to the sound, I’m hearing things. Either way, it makes it impossible for me to focus, and I end up missing half of the professor’s lecture because I can’t get my mind to shut down.
When class is dismissed, I’m more than ready to escape the confines of the room. For the first time since coming here, I don’t want to be in the classroom. I want to be alone, in my dorm, with my thoughts, and my books, and away from prying eyes.
Shoving up from my chair, I grab my stuff and cradle it to my chest. Once I’m outside, I can stuff the books in my bag. Other students move about the room, and I slip out into the walkway, at the same time, a girl in the row in front of me does.
Instead of turning and walking down the walkway like a normal person would, she turns and runs right into me. Lowering her shoulder, she intentionally slams into mine, jarring me backward. Pain radiates across my shoulder, and I lose my grasp on my books as I grab onto the table to steady myself, so I don’t fall on my ass in front of everyone left in the room.
“Watch it, Ice Queen,” she sneers, wrinkling her nose as she tosses her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder.
What the fuck?
She’s obviously heard the rumors, and I wouldn’t doubt she’s one of Cage’s many one-night stands. Still, it doesn’t give her a reason to be a raging bitch. Shaking my head, I drop down to my knees and ignore the snickering as she greets her friends somewhere behind me. I want to say something, but I bite my tongue, there isn’t any point in saying something to someone like that. I’d rather not bring more attention to myself.
As I gather my two books up, I crawl a few feet forward to grab my pens and notebooks that skidded across the carpet. My cheeks burn, and embarrassment coats my insides. Out of nowhere, a pair of Nike shoes appear in front of me. Lifting my gaze, I see a slim, but fit and attractive guy picking up two of my pens and a notebook.
Leaning down, he hands them to me with a dazzling smile on his face. I take them from him, ignoring his smile and attractiveness and push up off the floor, wiping a sweaty palm over my thigh. My stomach tightens, and it feels like everyone is staring at me.
“Hey, I know you. You’re…” he taps his sharp chin as if he’s trying to remember what he wants to say while narrowing his gaze. “Ice Queen! You’re the girl that poured a beer on my best friend, Cage’s head.” He lets out a low chuckle. “That was fucking funny as hell. I don’t think I’ve ever met a chick that turned him down. You’re special or something. Immune to his swagger. I like it.”
“My name’s Blair,” I snap, tired of being called something that I’m really not. Looking up at the guy, recognition takes root. Blonde hair, angular face with sharp blue eyes. He’s tall, an athlete. He was standing behind Cage at the party with some other guy.
The guy frowns, and his gaze softens a fraction “Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly. “My name’s Evan.”
I clutch my books to my chest. “Is it really that insane that I turned Cage down?”
His white teeth flash through his parted lips. “Honestly, no. You see him for the douchebag he really is, while other chicks see him as some athletic god that they can use to get somewhere, all without realizing they aren’t actually going anywhere but his bedroom.”
I almost snort. I’d rather chew on broken glass than sleep with Cage. Yes, he was attractive, in a way you couldn’t ignore, but the fact he slept with anything with a vagina made me off-limits to him.
“Well, I’m not interested in him. Hence why I poured a beer over his head. Unfortunately, doing that has gotten me a lot of unwanted attention.”
“It’ll pass. As for Amanda, she’s just a bitch.” His gaze slips past me and to where the Amanda chick is standing with her friends, probably staring daggers into my back.
“That much is obvious,” I say beneath my breath.
“It’s okay, she’s just mad that Cage won’t pay her any attention.”
“Well, she can have him. I don’t want him if that’s the issue she has with me.”
“She has a lot of issues; Cage isn’t the only one.” He chuckles.
“Right, well, I’ve got tons of homework to do, so... it was nice to meet you, Evan.”
He nods. “Likewise, and if you ever need a friend or come to another party, though it’s doubtful after the last one, find me.” He winks, and I shake my head. Do all the football guys flirt with random nerds, or am I just the unlucky target?
“Okay,” I tell him and move past him with ease, but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. Of course, he would smell like heaven.
Walking out of the room, I think of how much my life has changed since the day I met Cage Wilder. I can’t make a single move without someone looking at me, can’t pass by someone without a whisper filling my ears. Once nameless, now everyone calls me Ice Queen.
Cage has taken my perfectly mundane life and flipped it on its axis, and I don’t like it, not one single bit. Along the way to the dorms, I stop and pick up a sandwich in the cafeteria, which thankfully isn’t brimming with people.
I pay for my food and shove the change back in my pocket, but not before the thought of my mother fills my mind. I should call her and see how she is doing on money, it wouldn’t be much, but I could send her some cash. Money gram or sending it via Transunion.
When I arrive at the dorm, I slide my student card into the access door and walk inside when the little light turns green, disengaging the lock. The walk to my floor is up three flights of stairs, which I curse the entire time.
I bet Cage jogged up
them without even breaking a sweat when he showed up here. Actually, now that I think of it, how did he even get inside? Probably some starstruck girl, who he dazzled with his smirk and sinister ways. Men like Cage were trouble with a capital T.
Reaching the landing of my floor, my heart damn near leaps out of my chest when I see a chick standing outside what looks to be the door to my room. Knots form in my stomach at the thought of finally getting a roommate.
As I grow closer, I realize that the room she’s in front of is mine and that the door is hanging wide open. A voice I heard not long ago carries out into the hall, and I make my legs work a little bit faster, jogging the rest of the way to the door.
No way is my new roommate Amanda, the chick from class. The bitch who called me Ice Queen. I won’t believe it until I see it with my own two eyes.
“Oh my god. Whoever my roommate is, she’s a total geek. Who has this many books?”
Hell no, I will cut her if she touches my books.
“Someone with no social life,” the girl in the hall sneers. Gritting my teeth, I move behind her and tap her on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, can you please move?” I snap.
She turns, her eyes rake over me slowly as if she’s measuring me up. I can feel her judging me, conjuring up all kinds of things.
“Pretty sure your roommate’s here, Amanda.” She takes a step back and purses her lips, crossing her arms over her chest.
I slip into the room, and the very first thing I see is my stack of paperbacks on the floor. My mouth pops open, but before I can speak, Amanda does.
“Sorry about your books,” she apologizes in the fakest tone I’ve ever heard in my life. Hell, my mom’s shit boyfriends apologized better. “Who has that many books, anyway? Don’t you do anything else with your time besides read? Or is that why they call you Ice Queen?” She chuckles and tips her head to the side, twirling a piece of blonde hair around her finger.
She thinks she looks cute, but really, she looks like she needs punching in the face.
“My name is Blair, not Ice Queen.” I growl as I toss my bag next to my bed, and my sandwich onto the mattress before bending down to pick up my books, which are scattered across the floor like someone took each one and tossed it over their shoulder.
“Whatever, I don’t care what your name is. This isn’t permanent, and I don’t plan to spend the rest of the school year slumming it in student housing with the poor students.”
I roll my eyes so hard they almost stay to the back of my head. Of course, I would get a roommate that is stuck up, rude, and a huge bitch.
“Your dad will get you a new apartment, he just has to pull his head out of his ass first. He can’t keep you cut off forever,” Amanda’s friend comments from the doorway.
“I know,” she says, and I catch her smiling out of the corner of my eye. Her side of the bedroom is neat and tidy, new sheets, everything pink and sparkly and brand new.
“I’ll be back later, Ice Queen, don’t touch any of my stuff. I know it’s going to be tempting with how old your shit looks, but if you fuck with my stuff, I’ll make you regret it.”
“It’s not just her stuff that looks cheap,” her nameless friend taunts, and it feels a little like high school all over again. I guess the bullies just get bigger when you go to college.
I ignore both of them and almost sigh when I hear the door slam closed, signaling that they’ve left. I can feel tears welling in my eyes, and I blink them back.
I cannot and will not cry because of that ragged bitch. Breathing through my nose, I take a couple calming breaths and finish stacking my books back on the desk.
When I’m done, I climb onto my bed and look at the sandwich I bought myself. My appetite is gone now, and I don’t even feel like doing any of my homework. I know I shouldn’t let what she said bother me, but it’s harder than you would think. Part of me knows that her dislike of me has something to do with Cage while the other part knows she’s just a bitch.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t gotten involved with him if she might be a little nicer to me.
Probably not.
Feeling sorry for myself, I lie down on the bed. My phone goes off a moment later, letting me know I have a new text message. I reach into my pocket and pull my phone out and see a number that isn’t programmed into my phone flash across the screen.
Without looking at the message, I know it’s from Cage.
Against my better judgment, I open the message.
Cage: What does a nosy pepper do?
I stare at the screen, wondering what the hell he is talking about.
Cage: Gets jalapeño business.
My lips pull up at the sides, and I shake my head. A second later, my phone dings again, and it’s another message from him.
Cage: What do you call a fake noodle?
Again, I stare at my phone, waiting for him to tell me the answer.
Cage: An impasta.
This time I let out a snort and a short chuckle. Where the hell did he find these jokes?
I stare at the screen and consider texting him back, but I don’t have the energy. Ever since he came barreling into my life, nothing is the same. I went from being the invisible nerd to the girl that everyone sees and all because I turned down a football god.
Letting the screen go black, I drop my phone onto the mattress beside me and close my eyes. With a smile on my lips, I let thoughts of Cage run rampant in my mind.
6
Cage
I can’t even explain why it bothers me so much that she didn’t respond to my texts. Who doesn’t write anything back? Is she not getting my texts? Did she give me a fake number? Or is she actually ignoring me? Probably, ignoring me. I guess I’ll ask her tonight when I get to our session.
As if the universe is listening to my thoughts, I hear Blair’s name being mentioned somewhere close by, which pisses me off because I’m in the locker room, and none of these fuckers in here should be talking about her.
Turning around, I pinpoint exactly who the fucker is when Evan says, “Yeah, Amanda was a total bitch, basically running over Blair and knocking books out of her arms.”
“Amanda is always a bitch.” Murphy chuckles.
“Yeah, but a bitch with a great set of tits, who can suck a dick like a fucking vacuum,” Dale yells, and the rest of the locker room erupts in laughter.
“Damnit, now I’m going to have to get the image of you with your dick down the vacuum out of my head.”
More laughter fills the space, but I don’t feel like joining in one bit. Especially not when Dale speaks again.
“Maybe think about the nerd sucking my dick instead, wouldn’t that be something?”
“Shut up,” I growl before I can stop myself.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Stop thinking about getting your dick wet and start thinking about winning the next game instead.”
“Calm your ball sack, it’s just practice today.” Dale rolls his eyes at me.
“Practice you desperately need. Now get your head in the game.”
Turning away from them, I put on the rest of my gear and try to ignore their whispering behind me.
“What was that all about?” Evan asks when it’s just him, me, and Murphy left in the room.
I slam the locker closed, maybe a bit harder than needed. “I’m tired of him fucking around and distracting everybody,” I half lie. I am a little annoyed by Dale, but I really don’t care that much about winning the game, not as much as I should for being the star linemen. “How do you know Blair anyway?”
“I have a class with her. Why are you being so territorial?”
Territorial? Jesus, I’m not being territorial, am I?
“I’m not. I’m just tired of hearing about it. Plus, I need her to fall for me. Can’t do that if I have other guys sniffing around her.”
“Got it. No sniffing around the nerd.” Evan nods while Murphy raises a single eyebrow at me. “Now, let’s
go play some ball, boys.”
Finally, something we can agree on.
My shoulder aches and my knee pops with every step I take. This fucking sport is killing my body. Just thinking about the game this weekend is giving me a headache. At least my dad won’t be coming to the game. We’re playing an away game against Blackthorn Elite, and my father doesn’t have time to make the two-hour trip.
No, he’ll just watch the game and call me later with his complaints, scolding me, pointing out every single mistake.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, my phone starts to ring, and Father flashes across the screen. I hit the green button and hold my cell to my ear.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Cage, did you go to practice?”
“Of course,” I say, trying not to show how annoyed I am.
“Good, getting ready for the game this weekend. You need to beat Blackthorn. This is a very important game, Son. I’ve spoken with your coach, and he said there are scouts coming. You need to win, show them why they should sign you.”
Every damn game is important to you.
“I know, Dad. We’ll win. We always do.”
“You better. This is your fucking chance to get into the NFL. You want to be a star player, boy? You want to make the big bucks doing what you love?”
What I love? Ha.
“Sure,” I say without thinking.
“Sure? Are you giving me an attitude? You ain’t too old for me to kick your ass.”
“Sorry, I was talking to someone else,” I lie, gritting my teeth.
“You better have been, I’ll drive down to North Woods and put you in your place, boy. You might be big, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
I roll my eyes at the expression.
“Okay, Dad, I’ve got to go,” I say and hang up the phone before he can say goodbye.
Sometimes, I think he just calls because it’s a thing he should do, not because he actually cares. At least, not about me. He does care about football; he just doesn’t care about anything else. He never asks how I’m doing, or if I’m okay. Everything is about football.