The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  The Freshman

  Monica Murphy

  Contents

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  The Sophomore Excerpt

  Things I Wanted To Say (but never did) Excerpt

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  Acknowledgments

  Also by Monica Murphy

  About the Author

  Playlist

  “Pick Up Your Phone” - Hojean

  “long story short” - Taylor Swift

  “Futon” - Ula

  “Just Friends” - Olivia O’Brien

  “10 Freaky Girls” - Metro Boomin, 21 Savage

  “My Favorite Part” - Mac Miller, Ariana Grande

  “Dreamcatcher” - Metro Boomin, Swae Lee, Travis Scott

  “Boredom” - Tyler, The Creator, Rex Orange County

  Find the rest of The Freshman’s Spotify playlist here:

  https://spoti.fi/3cOjLas

  One

  Tony

  There’s a pretty girl staring at me.

  I pretend I don’t notice, keeping my head down, my focus on the phone clutched in my hands. I’m absently scrolling through Instagram, bored out of my skull while stuck in the waiting area at the Range Rover dealership in San Francisco, dreading the upcoming visit with my dad. My parents divorced when I was twelve, and Dad up and disappeared, moving to San Francisco so he could be closer to his business.

  And his then new mistress.

  That mistress eventually turned into his second wife, she gave birth to twin girls almost two years ago, and Dad forgot all about me. Until I turned eighteen and he decided he wanted to take me under his wing and turn me into his new protégé. I’ve resisted as much as I can, but it’s tough. He’s persistent.

  I haven’t met my stepmom or my half-sisters yet, but that’s all happening today.

  Good times.

  Not really looking forward to meeting the new fam, but I was coming here anyway to get my car serviced. My father knew—I’m guessing the dealership informed him of the recall issue, and now here I am.

  Yes, my father basically abandoned me, but he still gets me a new car once a year, which means this is my third car since I turned sixteen. Fucking ridiculous, right? He’s a rich bastard and he spoils the hell out of me with materialistic things and plenty of cash, as if that might make up for his constant neglect over the last six years.

  But anyway.

  Fuck thinking about my dad. I’d rather focus on the girl.

  As sly as possible, I slowly glance up, my gaze meeting hers for the quickest second before she dips her head, a tiny smile curving her lush pink lips. I look away, too, gazing through the window at the bright blue sky outside. Not a cloud in sight. It’s still pretty early in the day. I rolled out of bed first thing in the morning and hopped in the car, driving straight here, cursing at the traffic the entire drive.

  I’d never want to live in the Bay Area, I know that for certain. I’m used to our small town and the fresh mountain air. The complete lack of traffic. How everyone knows everyone else—

  Wait. That’s not such a great thing. When everyone knows each other, they’re all up in your business. Like when your parents get a divorce. Or you and your girl break up seemingly out of nowhere.

  That part sucks.

  My gaze, once again, slides to the girl, like I can’t help myself. She’s sitting in an overstuffed chair across from me. Her teeth are sunk into her plump lower lip, her brows furrowed as she concentrates on whatever is happening on her phone. There’s a white Chanel bag sitting by her side. Golden Goose shoes on her feet. They’re scuffed and kind of dirty, which is what they’re supposed to look like, despite costing around five hundred bucks.

  I don’t get the appeal.

  That I know these things is telling. Mom isn’t around much, but when she is, she’s got the jumbo Chanel, the multiple pairs of Golden Goose—she’s trying to appear youthful, she says—and she’s always dripping in Van Cleef jewelry. Mom is a self-proclaimed designer brand whore, and she stands out like a sore thumb in our small town during the winter months. In the summer when all the tourists descend, she fits right in. Mostly.

  I check the pretty girl’s wrist and yep, she’s got a Van Cleef bracelet clasped around it. Of course she does.

  This girl is from money. My mother would probably love her.

  I check her out in bits and pieces. Long, tanned legs. Black shorts that ride up, showing off her sleek thighs. A plain white T-shirt that probably costs hundreds of dollars. A bunch of delicate gold chains around her neck, some unadorned, others with tiny charms and pendants. One is a string of scattered stars.

  This girl is trendy AF.

  I can tell she’s still staring at her phone, occasionally tapping at it as if she’s sending an urgent text, and I keep my gaze away from her face on purpose. I’m not ready to look at it again. Not yet. What if I’m wrong? What if she’s not as hot as I first thought? Not like anything’s going to happen anyway. She’s some rich girl who probably lives in Pacific Heights or Nob Hill. For all I know she could be my dad’s neighbor. She’s probably a spoiled brat who’ll make my life a living hell just for trying to talk to her.

  Forget it.

  I shift in my seat, holding back the sigh that wants to escape as I return my attention to Instagram.

  “Car trouble?”

  Her sweet voice makes my head jerk up to find she’s already watching me, her blue eyes wide and questioning. I wasn’t mistaken in my first assessment of her.

  She’s hot AF. I can’t even tell you which feature of hers is the most prominent or is the prettiest. She’s just flat-out gorgeous everywhere I look. I stare at her for a moment, caught up in the shape of her lips before I realize I need to stop looking like a dumb shit and actually say something.

  “No. Brought it in to fix a recall issue and get my back windows tinted,” I tell her, tilting my head to the side as I contemplate her. She watches me just as boldly, not backing down, not looking away or giggling or being overly coy and flirtatious. Seemingly nothing manufactured or phony about her, which I appreciate. I figured she would be phony, with her trendy clothes and expensive accessories.

  Girls can’t be trusted. They’ll stomp all over your heart if you give it to them, and then walk away like you never mattered. Happened to me before. It’s happened to me practically my entire life, and not just with girls. My ex-girlfriend left me because dance was more important to her than me. I try to show interest in other girls, but they all blow me off.

  Then there’s my family. Dad left me because new pussy was more important. Mom left me every week when I was in high school, out looking for someone new. Something better.

  Better than her old life and her son.

  “How about you?” I ask when she hasn’t responded.

  “The recall issue.” She shifts her legs, uncrossing and then recrossing them, and my gaze drops, taking them in yet again. They’re long and slender and conjure up all sorts of dirty thoughts. I wonder how tall she is. “My
father wanted to buy me a new one but I’ve only had this one for six months. I thought that was a bit—excessive.”

  “Sounds like we might share the same father.” Mine had mentioned something similar to me when I let him know about the recall notice. I told him that was ridiculous. I’ve only had the car for a couple of months.

  Her brows shoot up. “I certainly hope not.”

  Huh. Is she flirting with me? I’ve been off girls since midway through senior year in high school so maybe I’m out of touch. Well, not totally off girls. I hooked up with a couple of Italian hotties when I went to Europe over the summer. I accompanied my mom to visit her family who still lives over there. My cousin Sergio would take me out every night, and we’d get blindingly drunk. I’d kissed a pretty Italian girl. I kissed quite a few. Felt them up. On the rare occasion, I’d even get a blow job.

  I had a good time in Europe. The best part? No expectations, no strings attached. Plus, I’d never see them again.

  “I don’t have any long-lost siblings,” she continues. “Though I wouldn’t put it past my father if some turned up.”

  She smiles. I smile too.

  “What’s your name?” I ask her, because fuck it. If I can flirt with a girl at the Range Rover dealership to pass the time, I may as well go all in.

  “Hayden.” She tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. I’m a sucker for a blonde. Always have been. “What’s yours?”

  “Tony.” I offer up a closed-lipped smile.

  She does the same.

  “Well, Tony, are you in college?”

  I nod. Squirm in my seat a little. This girl will lose interest when she finds out where I go. She probably attends Stanford. Or Berkeley. She’s probably smart as hell and a complete overachiever. “Yeah. You?”

  A little laugh escapes her, and it’s a sweet, tinkling sound. “Yes. Where do you go?”

  May as well be upfront. Again, this is all happening at a dealership in a city I don’t live in. I’ve got nothing to lose. “Fresno State.”

  Her mouth pops open. “No way,” she breathes, sitting up straighter, her hand going to her chest. “I do too!”

  “You do not.” I chuckle, shaking my head. She has to be playing me.

  “I so do! They have a great liberal arts program. I want to be a teacher, much to my father’s dismay.” She laughs again, a little louder this time, but I see the hurt that flashes in her eyes.

  She hates that her father is disappointed in her future career choice. I feel this. I really do.

  “What about you? Why are you going to Fresno State?” she asks.

  “I grew up near there.” I shrug. “A lot of my friends chose Fresno State, so I did too.” Not the greatest answer, but it’s the truth.

  I knew I wanted to go to college, but I never really wanted to go somewhere far, and I had no idea what I wanted to major in. I finally found my core group of friends in high school, so why would I want to leave that? Completely immature thought process, but fuck it. I like my comfort, and currently, I find comfort in my friends.

  Family dumps you. Girls do too. Friends don’t. Bros stick by you no matter what.

  Thankfully, a few of my friends got into Fresno State, like I did. And I’ve made new friends too.

  “What’s your major?” Hayden asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Business.” It was the most neutral major that appealed to me, and what do you know, it made my father happy when he found out. Not that I particularly want to, but eventually, I’m sure I’ll be working alongside my father, cutting ruthless business deals and buying up real estate all over the Bay Area.

  That’s why I need to focus on having fun in college now, because all the fun is going to evaporate from my life in approximately four years. You’re only in college once. I need to make the best of it.

  “Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?” Her eyes are dancing when she asks the question, and I like how direct she is. How confident she seems.

  This girl seems like she has her shit together. No “poor little rich girl” vibes coming from her.

  “Not sure yet,” I say with another shrug, slouching in my chair. Trying for nonchalance. Like it’s no big deal that I’m having a conversation with the hottest girl I’ve met in a long ass time.

  “Are you from around here then? No, wait, you said you grew up near Fresno.” She frowns. “They have a small Range Rover dealer there. Why are you here?”

  “Their service department is booked out for weeks, and I didn’t want to wait any longer on the tinted windows.” Dad bought me the Range Rover as a belated graduation gift, bestowing it upon me right before I started college. Considering the gorgeous and very expensive vehicle ends up sitting in a parking lot most of the time, baking under the hot sun, I quickly decided I needed all the windows tinted to help keep the inside cool.

  “Ah, that makes sense. And while it’s here, may as well get the recall work done, right?” I nod. She smiles. “I’m visiting my dad for the weekend. He wanted family time, as he calls it. His girlfriend is only seven years older than I am.”

  Hayden rolls her eyes and I can’t help but laugh.

  “My stepmom is thirty,” I tell her with a chuckle.

  “I don’t understand why they always trade in for a newer model,” she says. “Though my mom eventually did the same thing.”

  “My mom swears she’ll never get married again. Says my father turned her against love,” I say, hating the flash of sympathy I see reflected in Hayden’s gaze.

  Maybe I said too much.

  “Love is for pussies,” she says with confidence. An older woman sitting nearby shoots her a dirty look and the smile teasing the corners of Hayden’s mouth makes me smile in return. She probably enjoyed shocking that old lady. “It’s true and you know it.”

  “It is true.” My ex-girlfriend Sophie stomped all over my heart and left it a bleeding mess right before she left our high school for good and went to a performing arts school up in the mountains near San Diego. Last I heard, she was in the dance program at USC, where my best friend Jake goes. He actually ran into her recently and called to tell me all about it.

  Made me feel like shit, but I had to pretend his seeing Sophie didn’t bother me. It sucks when you realize people always eventually leave you. Hell, in a way Jake did too, though of course he left to go play football for USC, and I don’t blame him. We got a lot closer senior year and now he’s gone. I’ve learned a lesson from all of this, one I’ll never forget.

  Everyone leaves.

  “So you’re spending your Saturday here at the dealer, huh?” she asks.

  It’s a bye week at home, so no football game tonight. Not like I’d get a chance to play anyway. I rarely do. “Yeah. Hasn’t been too bad though.”

  She grins. I grin back.

  “What are you doing afterwards?”

  My smile fades. “I have a get-together thing my dad wants me to attend tonight.”

  That is the last thing I want to do. Especially now, when I have a much more interesting prospect sitting in front of me.

  Her smile disappears too, replaced with a frown. “Yeah, you know, I have something too.”

  This hot girl was going to ask me out. I could feel it. And that gives me the confidence to ask, “Can I get your number? Maybe we can get together sometime in Fresno.”

  Can’t believe I never noticed her on campus before, though I guess it’s not a surprise. It’s a huge campus. We all sort of seem to take the same general ed classes at the same time, though, but maybe her schedule is totally different because of her major.

  “Sounds good.” She lifts her phone and starts tapping. “Why don’t you give me your number first.”

  I rattle it off and she types it in her phone, my phone buzzing immediately with her simple response of hi. “I’ll text you for real early next week.”

  I smile. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “Oh I will.” Her eyes are sparkling.

  I coul
d stare at her all damn day.

  We make small talk for a few minutes more, until one of the service advisers enters the waiting room and approaches her, letting her know her car is ready. She rises to her feet, slinging her Chanel bag over her shoulder, and she stops by my chair. The service adviser waits for her nearby, his impatience obvious.

  “It was nice meeting you, Tony.” She touches me on the shoulder, very lightly.

  I feel that touch sink all the way to my balls.

  “Nice meeting you too, Hayden,” I say, my voice even. I sound normal. I bet I even look normal.

  Inside, I’m anything but. This girl is hot. Interesting. Confident. For the first time in a while, I’m intrigued.

  I want more.

  Two

  Hayden

  “I met a cute boy today,” I tell my sixteen-year-old sister, Palmer.

  Yes, we come from a wealthy family and we have snobbish masculine-sounding names given to us by our snobbish parents. It’s such a cliché, but I can’t help who I’m born to, or what name they gave me. It’s also not our fault people see our names on a roster and automatically assume we’re dudes.

  Thanks, Mom and Dad.

  “Really?” Palmer’s sitting on her bed, foot planted on the mattress and knee bent, her chin practically resting on it as she paints her toenails a lurid green color. “What did he look like?”

  “Tall.” I didn’t see him stand, but his legs were long so I’m assuming. “Black hair. Dark brown eyes. Full lips.”