The College Life

by Mercy Amare

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Some things, yes,” he says. “But I have a family here. I love Jessica and her family.”

  “That’s nice,” I say, wondering if the guy I marry will have an awesome family. I loved Brian’s big family. I still miss his mom and sisters.

  For a while, I thought Libby Johnson was going to be my mother in law. Now I realize how silly I sounded. Who gets forever with their high school boyfriend? Though, really, I dodged a bullet on that one. Libby would drive me crazy. I used to think she was tamer than Veronica, but now I see that Libby is way more controlling. And pushy. Then again, Veronica really isn’t the same as she was when I first met her. Either she’s chilled or I’ve gotten used to her. It’s probably more that I’ve gotten used to her, because she still dresses me. I let her, for events like this. If I don’t complain, then she doesn’t bug me as much every day. I can handle being her Barbie once or twice a month as long as I can be me the rest of the time.

  Veronica bought me, like, five pairs of jeans before I left for college. I highly suspect that the five pairs together probably costs more than most college students’ cars, but still... jeans! I’m definitely more of a jeans girl than a skirt or dress kind of girl. I’m glad that she now recognizes that about me.

  Poor Kailee. She will never be allowed to dress herself.

  “Are you ready to see yourself?” Frank asks.

  I nod, my stomach tightening.

  There is no going back.

  He slowly spins the chair around so that I am facing the mirror. I slowly look up and see my blonde hair. I cover my mouth with my hair. “Oh, my God! I’m blonde! I have blonde hair!”

  “Do you like it?” he asks.

  “I love it,” I say, turning my head to each side. “Frank, you’re an artist. Really. Like, wow.”

  “Literally, I love your hair,” he says. “As an American girl would say, I can’t even.”

  I get out of my chair and then hug Frank.

  “Hey,” he says, patting my back, “watch the hair.”

  “Sorry,” I say, loosening my grip.

  “I’m going to get Mrs. Evers,” Frank says once we break the embrace. “She is literally dying to see your hair.”

  I laugh.

  He goes to the door to get Veronica and I look at myself in the mirror once more. This time, I notice my skin. It looks darker with the lighter hair. I’m also glowing, though I think that has more to do with the excitement. A change was exactly what I needed. Nothing like a little hair dye to make your confidence level soar.

  I hear a gasp by the door and turn to see Veronica. Her mouth is open slightly, but I can tell that she loves it. Her eyes start to tear up.

  “What do you think?” I ask, and then do a spin.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she answers. “You are beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door opens again, and a girl who looks barely older than I walks in. She is carrying a suitcase.

  “Kim,” Veronica says, greeting her. “Thank you so much for coming last minute.”

  Kim grins. “Anything for you, Mrs. Evers.”

  That’s code for I’ll do anything if you pay me enough. Which I’m sure Veronica did.

  Kim props the suitcase up on a table. When she opens it, I see that it’s full of make-up.

  “I’ll see you later, Kihanna. Good luck tonight.” Frank winks at me and then walks out the door.

  Veronica hovers for only a second, but when Kim gets started, she leaves us.

  7 p.m.

  The most beautiful girl in the world.

  It is just after seven when Dad comes to my room to walk me down the stairs.

  He grins big when he sees my hair, make-up and dress.

  “You are so beautiful,” he tells me.

  “Do you like my hair?” I ask, remembering him telling me never to dye my hair.

  “I do,” he says. “You look really good as a blonde.”

  I can’t help but grin at his compliment. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You ready?” he asks.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answer.

  I hold out my elbow for him and he grabs it as we talk towards the door.

  “Thank you for doing this, Kihanna” he says. “I know this isn’t your kind of thing, but Veronica lives for it. This means a lot to her. She knows that you must love her to agree to all of this. You’re very kind.”

  “Thanks,” I say again. “I don’t mind, really.”

  We stop at the top of the stairs.

  “Please, don’t let me fall,” I say, thinking about the five-inch heels that I’m wearing. Veronica insisted on them, even though nobody can see them under this dress. I wish she would’ve let me wear flats, as we walk down the stairs.

  “I won’t,” Dad promises.

  We start down the stairs and I’m nervous. I look down and see that the foyer is full of people. I don’t know most of them. Finally, my eyes meet Ty’s and I suddenly feel less nervous.

  I think about our first date.

  I was so nervous, as I walked down the stairs to meet him. I looked at my feet the whole way down, and when I got there, he was waiting for me. He was looking at me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. Right now, he is looking at me the same way, but I can also see love in his eyes. That should scare me, but it doesn’t. It comforts me.

  My stomach fills with butterflies, but not the nervous kind. I’m excited. I can’t wait until I get to dance with Ty tonight. This whole thing will be worth that one dance. Maybe I can even sneak two with him.

  Once Dad and I get to the bottom of the stairs, the crowd parts and we walk into the middle of the crowd. Music starts playing, and we dance.

  I’ve never danced with my dad before. When I was a little girl, I used to imagine what it would be like. The real thing is so much better than I imagined. My heart fills with sadness at all the years I missed with him.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too,” he says, smiling big. “Now, I want to know what’s going on with you and Ty.”

  “Nothing,” I say quickly. “We’re just friends.”

  “He doesn’t look at you like a friend.”

  “Dad, I’m not dating Ty.” I’m just sleeping with him. “I plan on staying single for my freshman year.”

  “There is nothing wrong with having a boyfriend,” he says. “I just want you to be happy, no matter who that is with.”

  “Thank you,” I say, glancing down at our feet.

  “You aren’t supposed to look down when you dance.”

  I look back up. “Just so you know, I am happy.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ve been single for almost a whole month now. Last year, I spent my time jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend and I never focused on me. Right now, I just want to find me,” I tell him. “I’ve made a lot of friends at college.”

  “I’d like to meet them sometime,” he says.

  “You will,” I promise him.

  He pulls me closer against him, and he doesn’t let go until the song is over.

  “Keep an open mind,” he whispers in my ear, and then backs away.

  I am quickly whisked away to change my dress.

  9 p.m.

  Micah Miller.

  I have danced with so many guys I have officially lost count.

  I did get to dance with Toby and Gabe, which was kind of nice, but mostly I’ve been dancing with guys I don’t know. I almost punched one of them for putting his hands a little low on my back. As soon as that happened, Toby interrupted. Thank God.

  Ty and I haven’t gotten to dance, yet, but he says that he’s waiting. He wants me to dance the last dance with him. Hopefully, that will be soon. These shoes are killing my feet. Next time, I am insisting on flats. I lost all feeling in my right pinkie toe about an hour ago. At least it doesn’t hurt anymore.

  The guy I’m dancing with now is really boring.

  He’s telling me
about Stanford, and suddenly I’m really glad I decided to turn Stanford down. I don’t want to be anywhere near this guy.

  “Berkeley is a good school, too,” he says. “It’s not Stanford, but I guess not everybody can get in there.”

  I already forgot his name. “Actually, I turned Stanford down.”

  His mouth falls open.

  A guy comes up behind him and taps on his shoulder.

  “May I?” he asks.

  The Stanford guy takes a step back, probably still in shock from my comment. It might have been a little rude, but I couldn’t stand how arrogant he was. The new guy pulls me into a dance. He spins me around and finally the other guy leaves, his mouth still hanging open.

  “You’re welcome,” he says.

  “Seriously, I love you right now. That guy was...” My voice trails off, because I can’t find an accurate word to describe him. I’m just glad that he’s gone.

  “I’m Micah Miller,” he tells me.

  Micah.

  He looks like a Micah.

  His face is freshly shaved, but I can’t help but wonder what he would look like with a five o’clock shadow. He looks like the kind of guy who should have a scruffy face.

  Micah is tall. Most of the guys I’ve danced with tonight have been my height or shorter, but Micah towers over me by quite a few inches, even in these heels. I like that he’s so much taller than I am.

  His dark hair is cut short, which looks really good on him.

  And his eyes.

  They’re the prettiest color of dark blue that I have ever seen, like a sapphire. They have cool patterns throughout, of dark and light blue, and it takes me a while to realize that he just told me his name so I probably should tell him mine.

  “I’m Kihanna Evers.”

  He raises and eyebrow. “I know. You are the reasons my parents forced me to come tonight.”

  “Forced?” I ask.

  “You think I want to come to things like this?”

  “I was forced too. I just did it because I knew my stepmom wouldn’t stop until she got me to agree. And if I hadn’t agreed, she would’ve sprung it on me last minute. I’ve learned to just go along.”

  “I’m kind of glad my parents forced me to this time,” he says. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling my face grow warm.

  “Do you want to step outside?” he asks. “Maybe we can get some fresh air and you can sit down. Your feet have got to be killing you in those heels.”

  “Oh, my God, yes,” I answer.

  He puts his arm on the small of my back and leads me out to the patio. There are a few people outside, but nobody pays attention to us as we sit down on a bench. It’s cool outside, but it feels good after dancing for so long.

  Micah pulls off his suit jacket and offers it to me.

  I shake my head. “It feels good out here. But thanks.”

  “So, you’re the famous Kihanna Evers.”

  “I don’t know about famous,” I say.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I look at him, curious. “What have you heard?”

  “Let’s see... your mom kept you a secret from your dad and then one day she tells you the truth. Your whole world is changed,” he motions around us. “Living in a mansion, hosting parties, and all the other responsibilities that come along with having a billionaire dad.”

  “Pretty much,” I say.

  You know... along with being stalked for the past year.

  “So, how do you like it?” he asks.

  “It’s nice,” I answer. “I miss my mom a lot. But this lifestyle is crazy. Last weekend, my dad sent me, my stepbrother, and my friends to Santorini for the weekend. We took a private jet. And that is the normal. I still think this is all so... weird.”

  “It’s different, that’s for sure. It’s awesome that you went to Greece,” he says. “Most of my traveling is done on holidays and during the summer. My dad likes me to focus on school while it’s in session.”

  “I spent my summer in Bora Bora.”

  “I’m jealous,” he says. “My dad got an internship for me over the summer. It was in Paris, so it wasn’t so bad. And I spent the last two weeks of my break at my family’s estate in St. Johns.”

  “Maybe next time we go on a weekend trip, you can go,” I say, but I’m not sure why I do.

  “Definitely,” he says. “I’m a sophomore at Berkeley. This semester’s course load isn’t so bad. Last year I had too much on my plate and it was stressful.”

  “I go to Berkeley too. I haven’t seen you around.”

  “Berkeley is a big campus,” he says.

  “What is your major?”

  “Business,” he answers, frowning.

  “You don’t want to take business.” It is supposed to come out as a question, but instead it sounds like a statement.

  “Not really,” he says.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. But I wish I had the freedom to choose. My path was chosen before I was even born,” he says. “My dad wanted me to go to Yale, like he and his father did, but I wasn’t interested in an ivy league. I also wasn’t interested in leaving Cali. I told him that either I went to Berkeley or I left home and didn’t go to college at all. This was our compromise.”

  “My dad was the opposite,” I say. “Maybe because I didn’t grow up around all this. He let me choose my college. The closer it was to home, the better. He wanted me to live at home while I went to college.”

  “What’s your major?”

  “I am undeclared right now,” I answer. “But I think I’m going to set one next semester.”

  “What will you choose?”

  “I don’t know. I thought about maybe getting an art major. Or English. Or even film,” I say. “If I had to choose a career right now, I’d say I want to be a director. I am not one hundred percent set, but I know I enjoy editing and filming.”

  “We need to get together on campus and hang out sometime,” he says.

  “Yeah, definitely,” I say. “My friends and I have a lot of fun.”

  We exchange numbers. Just as we’re done, Ty walks outside. He frowns when he sees I’m sitting beside a guy.

  “Hey. I was looking for you,” Ty says to me. “You disappeared.”

  “Sorry,” I say, standing up. “Micah, this is my friend Ty. Ty, this is Micah. He goes to Berkeley too. And he saved me from dancing with this awful—”

  I cut my voice off when I see the Stanford guy walk out onto the patio.

  Micah laughs, and I cover my mouth to stop from laughing.

  “What?” Ty asks, looking between us.

  “That’s the guy I was talking about,” I whisper, pointing behind him.

  Ty looks at the guy, but quickly looks back to me.

  “I was hoping I could get a dance before the night is over,” he says. “I think Veronica is going to wrap it up soon.”

  “Yeah,” I say, then turn to Micah. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

  “Definitely,” he says.

  Ty grabs my hand and pulls me inside.

  “Can I take off my shoes?” I ask him. Now that I’m on my feet, I realize just how badly my shoes were hurting my feet. Every step feels like there are thousands of tiny needles poking into my toes and the heel of my foot literally feels like it’s on fire.

  I look down at down at my shoes.

  They’re so pretty.

  And evil.

  I will never let myself be fooled by pretty shoes again.

  Ty picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

  “Ty!” I yell, pulling a hand behind me to pull down my dress. I hope I’m not flashing everybody.

  He carries me to a nearby chair and sets me down. Once I’m down, he starts taking off my shoes. The second the shoes are off, my feet feel so much relief. I let out a moan and Ty looks at me with a spark in his eyes. I’m all too aware of what that spark means.
>
  “I want nothing more than to carry you upstairs right now, and have my way with you,” he says, his voice low. “But first, I need my dance.”

  I grin at him, because, really!

  Swoon.

  My stomach twists into knots of excitement at his words.

  Once my shoes are off, Ty pulls me to my feet and takes me out on the dance floor. He puts his hands on my waist, and it’s just taunting me. I want him to put his hands just a little bit lower. More than anything, I want to pull him off this dance floor and let him show me exactly what he wants to do with me.

  “By the way, I am loving the blonde hair,” Ty says, taking one hand off my waist and grabbing the end of my long, now blonde, hair. “I loved it before, but it’s even better now. You’re so beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “And this dress...” he runs the same hand down my side slowly. “It’s extremely sexy, and I had a hard time watching all those other guys put their hands on you while you danced.”

  I bite my lip. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he says, then clears his throat. “So, what was up with that Micah guy?”

  “He’s cool,” I tell him. “He goes to our school and I think we’re going to be friends.”

  “I don’t know if I want you to be friends with him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t be jealous.”

  “I’m trying not to be, but it’s hard. I keep thinking that you and I are just friends.”

  “If I remember correctly, it was your idea to be friends,” I say, giving him my best seductive grin.

  I like our friendship.

  A lot.

  “Kihanna, I’m trying to be serious,” he says.

  I sigh. “Fine. I’m listening.”

  “I didn’t think we would be just friends for long,” he admits. “You’re not the type of girl to sleep with a guy who isn’t her boyfriend. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d agree. And then once you did, I thought our relationship would change pretty quickly. I hate that we’re nothing more than fuck buddies.”