“Well god forbid I do that again. Let’s go then.” I gesture for him to lead the way, but he doesn’t budge. “Can I help you?” I ask, adjusting my purse on my shoulder.
He watches me for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing on me like he’s trying to figure something out. “I just thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
I laugh, shaking my head at him as I head toward the stairs. I feel my messy bun bounce on the top of my head as I run up the stairs.
When I look over my shoulder, I find Maverick climbing them behind me, a puzzled look still on his face. I fight the urge to laugh again. I didn’t put up a fight because I’d planned to actually attend class today.
He doesn’t have to know that, before I accidentally fell asleep, I had every intention of setting an alarm for class.
10
Veronica
“What in the hell did we just listen to?” I ask Maverick as we walk out of our sociology class. We spent a majority of the lecture listening to our middle-aged professor talk about the My Little Pony conference he went to over the weekend. I’m not kidding. He was telling us how he was a proud brony—AKA a bro who loves My Little Pony.
Maverick chuckles, raising his hand to wave at someone across the building who just shouted his name. “I have no idea. I think I stopped listening when he started listing his favorite ponies.”
We stop to wait for a group of people leaving the large lecture hall.
“At least you made it that far. He lost my attention the second he hopped on his soap box to discuss the importance of grown men loving fictional ponies,” I say.
Maverick holds the door open for me as we make it out into the crisp Kansas air. Admittedly, I love the fact that Kansas has actual seasons. Where I’m from in South Carolina, we basically go from hot to a little less hot. We’re halfway through October, which means the trees here are starting to change colors as well. I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but I kind of love it here.
We both stop in front of the building. I have a discussion class I have to be at in fifteen minutes. On the days I do attend classes, I’m already halfway there by now.
“Well, I need to get to my next class,” I explain, looking up at Maverick.
His eyes are on something over my shoulder, a smile spreading across his face. A perfect set of dimples forms on both of his cheeks, and for some reason, I want to reach out and poke them. When I turn around to see what he’s smiling at, I find Selma and another girl walking toward us.
“Is there any way you could wait a minute, Veronica?” His ocean eyes find mine.
And even though I want to make it to my next discussion class early to get my spot in the corner where no one bothers me, I find myself planting my feet and waiting. “Sure,” I say, kicking around some fallen leaves on the sidewalk with the toe of my sneakers.
My eyes wander to the two girls closing in on us. I stare as Maverick envelops Selma in a hug, his whole body smothering her. He places a loving kiss to her forehead before pulling the other girl in. Just when I think he might hug the other one, he puts his large hand on top of her head and squeezes. She proceeds to punch him in the arm, and then the puzzle pieces fall together for me.
This must be his twin sister. Lily.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” she huffs, glaring at Maverick who’s too busy reaching for Selma’s hand to pay her any notice.
Then, a pair of blue eyes that look just like Maverick’s fall on me.
“Hi, I’m Lily, but you must already know that.” She flips the long, dark, blanket of hair over her shoulder and smiles at me.
I smile.
I like her already.
“Veronica,” I respond, taking a moment to take in her outfit of choice.
She’s wearing a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and a pair of checkered Vans on her feet. A purse almost identical to my own is perched on one of her shoulders. Her dark hair—a few shades darker than Maverick’s—falls all the way down past her boobs. I have the urge to ask her what products she uses because I can see how shiny her hair is, even from a few feet away.
But Lily looks over to Maverick and Selma; they’re busy having a hushed conversation between themselves.
My Apple watch buzzes on my wrist, alerting me to a missed text. When I notice what time it is, I realize I need to be huffing it across campus if I’m going to make it to my discussion class on time.
“It was cool to meet you, Lily,” I begin, backing away from our small group. “But I need to get to my next class.”
Selma and Maverick seem too deep in conversation to even notice that I’m about to leave, but I do get a quick goodbye from Lily, with her telling me we’ll talk later when she comes over.
The group is almost out of sight when Maverick yells across the quad, “Bye, Veronica! Save Princess Cupcake from My Little Pony for me!”
I roll my eyes and flip him the bird. I’m positive he just rattled off a bunch of random objects to create a fictional name, and now everyone within earshot thinks I’m just as obsessed with My Little Pony as our professor is.
11
Veronica
A few hours after my last class, I’m sitting on my bed scrolling through Instagram. My favorite face mask is seeping into my pores when my bedroom door flies open. I’m two seconds from throwing my phone across the room and shouting Aspen’s name when I realize he isn’t the culprit.
No, this culprit is barely five feet tall and has the biggest grin on her face.
“Hi, Veronica!” Lily says, helping herself in as she looks around my room.
I sit there with my mouth wide open as she takes in her surroundings. Apparently, she likes what she sees because she closes the door behind her and waltzes right in.
As soon as I got home from my classes, I finished unpacking the rest of my stuff. It took me almost three hours, and I had barely rested for fifteen minutes before she came barging on in.
Out of instinct, I want to shove her tiny body right back out the door when she has the audacity to sit down on my white comforter in front of me. I’ve gotten so used to this knee-jerk reaction to people—whether I like them or not—it’s now my norm.
“Can I help you?” I ask, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.
“Yes, you can, actually,” Lily replies, pulling at a split end of her hair. She tosses the strand of hair back down and focuses on me. “Selma and Maverick are locked alone in their room, which is gross,” she explains, “and Aspen is boring me to death since he’s all caught up in his video game. So, I figured I’d come down here and get to know my new friend a little better.”
“Who said we were friends?” If I didn’t have a face mask on that hinders me from showing any emotion, my eyebrows would be raised all the way to my hairline.
I met this girl six hours ago and suddenly we’re friends?
I want to laugh. I don’t have very many friends, and I certainly don’t make them that fast. If we were friends, she’d know that.
Lily sighs, but a smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “Oh, we are friends, Veronica. You’ll find that it’s easier to agree with me than to try to put up a fight.”
I think about her response for a moment. There’s a small part of me that perks up inside at the prospect of having a new friend. It’s unwelcome, but it’s there.
I’ve alienated myself from all the friends I grew up with, and I don’t regret it for a second. It’s an after effect of deciding you’re done with attachments. An aftershock. But that doesn’t mean that every now and then I don’t wish I had someone to tell dumb things to, or maybe help me pick out jeans that don’t make my ass look huge.
“We’ll see.” My response must satisfy her, because she drops the topic.
Instead of continuing to fill the silence, she hops off my bed and starts to take inventory of my room. She picks something up from my bedside table.
It’s one of my pieces of art.
I used oil paints to portray the deep green eyes. Even th
ough most people would focus on those, the reason I painted it in the first place was to showcase the eyebrows. Over the left eye sits a scar that runs completely through the honey brown eyebrow.
An imperfection.
I remember the first time I laid eyes on that imperfection. My hands had twitched at my sides, practically begging to grab a paintbrush to get to work.
“What is this?” she asks, staring at the piece a moment longer before carefully setting it back on the white nightstand.
I barely hear her, my mind too wrapped up in memories with the person that imperfection belonged to.
“Nothing,” I respond, too tired and numb to tell her the story behind the painting.
Surprisingly, Lily lets me skirt away from her question. She continues her trek around my room, picking up random things as she goes. “Oh my god, you went to a True Minds concert?” She stares greedily at a pair of concert tickets I have tucked into a corner of my full-length mirror.
“Yep,” I respond, touching the substance on my face to see if it’s completely dry yet.
My face feels like I’m on my twentieth round of Botox, it’s so numb. No matter how hard I try, I can’t move any of my features. I realize I have to keep the gunk on my face, though. Because when I pull my finger away, I notice a hint of green on it, meaning it’s still wet.
“I would literally give my left tit to go to one of their concerts!” she cries, her eyes going wide as she stares at me.
“It kind of sucked,” I reply, going back to perusing my Instagram feed.
My fingers stop on a photo of someone from my past. If I was a nice human being, I would like it, maybe even leave a comment, but I don’t. Instead, I stare at her for a moment longer before continuing to scroll.
When I look up from my phone, Lily is peering at me with a look of betrayal on her face, like she might be reconsidering her statement of us being friends.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” she whispers, carefully putting the tickets back in the corner of my mirror like they were the most fragile items on this Earth. “I literally begged my dad to fly me to one of their stadium shows so I could see them. Unfortunately, none were close enough for him to let me go alone.”
“You didn’t miss much.” I throw the white comforter off me and retreat out of my room and into the basement bathroom. There, I turn on the water and leave my fingers under the sink to test its temperature. When it finally warms up—which takes way too long considering Lily is still snooping in my room—I wash the green gunk off my face. I’m just finishing up wiping all the water off my face when footsteps come barreling down the stairs.
I consider quickly slamming the door and hiding out in here to avoid the one person who makes that much noise in this house, but I decide I’m too interested in seeing the famous banter between Lily and Aspen.
“Veronica!” Aspen singsongs, blocking me from leaving the small bathroom.
“Ass hat,” I sweetly sing back to him, ducking under his arm before he can capture me in there alone with him.
Lily walks out of my closet, with one of my black corset tops wrapped around her body and over her actual outfit. “How do you get into this thing?”
She’s still fiddling with the ties that run all the way up when Aspen comes into my room and whistles.
“Damn, little sister,” he begins. “What are you thinking putting that on? You wouldn’t even be able to keep that thing on because your boobs are so small.”
Just like Lily had done twenty minutes prior, Aspen comes in and sits his ass on my comforter like he owns the place.
What is up with these people thinking they can barge right in and sit on my bed?
I narrow my eyes at him, sending him a look that hopefully conveys—loud and clear—that if his feet touch my bed, I will get my heels out and beat him with them again.
Lily purses her full lips, her perfect eyebrows drawing together on her forehead. “Please, Aspen.” Her hands go to grab her perky boobs underneath the corset. “Let’s not pretend you don’t fantasize about these puppies every time you jerk off.” She jiggles them in her hands, and I watch with piqued interest as his eyes zone in on them.
This is going to be so much fun to witness.
A few moments later, Lily’s back in my closet and Aspen is rubbing his eyes, muttering something under his breath.
“You okay there, bud?” I ask, leaning my hip against my dresser.
“Sure thing,” he responds, continuing to rub his eyes like he just saw his grandmother naked. “Just trying to scrub that mental picture out of my brain. Absolutely disgusting.”
I shake my head, damn well knowing he thought that little show was far from disgusting.
Lily comes out of the closet, a stack of clothes in her hands. “I’m going to borrow a few things from you, Veronica. Sound good?”
I want to argue with her, but I know I have way more clothes than I actually need.
Plus, if she takes a few things it gives me the excuse to go shopping for new clothes to replace them.
“Whatever.” I grab my hairbrush from the dresser and run it through my hair.
I can see Lily and Aspen in the mirror. Because of that, I don’t miss it when she sticks her tongue out at him. A few seconds later, he flips her the bird.
“What are you doing down here, Aspen?” I ask, trying to undo a tangle in my hair.
“I’m bored,” he whines. “Let’s have a game night!” His eyes light up at the idea.
My nose scrunches. I already planned my night around drinking the wine I bought after flirting with the guy at the liquor store. A game night with people is the last thing I want to do.
“There’s only three of us,” Lily points out, taking a seat next to him on my bed. She pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket and glances at it for a moment.
“Is that Bumble?” Aspen inquires, trying to peer over her shoulder.
Lily is too quick for him, her phone already shoved back into her pocket before he can sneak another glimpse. “Mind your own business!” She scoots as far away from him on the bed as her body will allow.
He rolls his eyes at her, stepping off the bed and going out into the main area.
We both watch curiously as he pulls blanket after blanket off the blanket ladder.
Just when I’m about to ask him what in the hell he’s doing, he grabs the ladder on both sides and starts knocking the ceiling with it. “Maverick! Selma! Stop making out for two seconds and come have game night with us.” He continues to obnoxiously pound the ceiling with the ladder, and little specks of white start to rain down on him.
Lily and I remain in my doorway. This goes on for two more minutes before we finally hear an echo of footsteps above us.
Aspen snickers, putting the blanket ladder back up against the wall. “Always does the trick,” he mutters as both Selma and Maverick come into view.
12
Maverick
Selma was asleep next to me in bed as I worked on a research paper when I heard the first thud. At first, I didn’t pay it much attention. I figured Veronica was moving something around in her room, or maybe Aspen had over a guest, but after the thudding continued and woke Selma up, we decided to go check out what was going on. We were both climbing out of the gray cotton bed sheets when we heard Aspen shout at us about a game night.
“What do you think?” Selma had asked, stretching her arms to the ceiling. She rifled through our clean laundry basket and pulled on a pair of black leggings.
“I think if we don’t go down there, he’ll never stop yelling for us, which might aggravate Veronica enough to impale him with another one of her high heels,” I said.
Selma laughed, then picked up her glasses from the nightstand and perched them on her nose.
Now, thirty minutes later, we’re caught up in an Aspen game night. What I thought would just be the four of us that live here has turned into a gathering of eight people.
Lily was already here, which I
was too holed up in my room to even realize, and then Aspen invited three more of his friends—Derrick, Tristan, and Beau. All of which play on our college baseball team, including Aspen.
We’re crammed around our old card table, playing a game of Cards Against Humanity. In each round of the game, a winner is chosen, who becomes the next person to choose between all the cards.
The loser, so far, is Aspen’s friend Derrick. The winner, by far, is Veronica. Turns out the ice queen has a sense of humor, because her cards keep getting picked as the funniest.
Lily is busy looking through the cards she’s been given, trying to pick her favorite and her least favorite.
“Oh, hurry up, could you?” Aspen taunts from across the table.
“Shut up, Aspen,” Lily responds, rifling through the cards even slower now that Aspen has commented on it.
“Take your time,” Tristan says next to Veronica, earning himself a glare from Aspen.
Tristan just smirks at him and goes back to his conversation with Veronica. The two of them have their heads bent close together, and I observe them as she makes a show of flirting with him. My eyes flick to Aspen, who’s still blatantly glaring at them.
“This one!” Lily says, slapping a card down on the table, the sound loud enough to cause Aspen’s eyes to snap to her.
“That’s mine again, losers,” Veronica responds with a teasing smile, reaching across to take the card to put it in her winning pile.
The girl has a decent sized stack going. Certainly bigger than anyone else’s.
“Oh, I meant that one was the loser,” Lily responds, shrugging her shoulders at Veronica in apology.
My eyes narrow on Lily. I know for a fact she had chosen that one as winner before she decided to change her mind.
Lily picks through the cards she was given one more time before slapping a new one on the table. “Now this is the real winner. Ha ha, sooo funny!”
The Consequence of Loving Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Aftershock Series Book 1) Page 6