by Blair Holden
Cole: You’re sexy when you’re bossy, Shortcake. I’m doing some dirty things to you in my mind right now.
I have a legitimate coughing fit and tap at my chest to make it go away. Cole walks around the table and leans over me. His hot breath fans my ear. “You all right there?”
“You think?” I hiss at him and grab the bottle of water in my backpack.
His hand goes to the small of my back as he pretends to help me get over the cough attack. But his slow, circular rubbing motions all over my lower back are deliberate and sensual; they drive me crazy. As much as I want to drag him to the nearest empty room with a lock, I also want to pour scalding hot coffee all over this smug face. And given that the coffee is more accessible than a room to hook up in, he better stop pushing my buttons.
“I’m just trying to do what you asked.”
“You don’t have to make it so damn difficult.”
“How else are we going to convince people that we’re no longer together? I’m sure your plan isn’t going to do much. Are you aware your hand is currently halfway up my shirt?” I wrench away from him feeling riled up and turned on in equal parts. Grabbing my backpack from the floor, I quickly slurp the rest of my cappuccino, burning my tongue in the process, and give Cole a perfectly platonic kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll be in classes all day, but do let me know if the Kappas offer to do your laundry; I’ll throw mine in the mix as well.”
His eyes are slits, his face devoid of amusement as I walk away. I have a feeling I’m going to get in a lot of trouble for all my smartassery today.
***
“So the latest rumor is that you and Cole have now entered the territory of being friends with benefits.” The bed bounces as Cami barges into the room and plops down on it. I close my textbooks knowing there’s no use trying to study when my friend plans on killing even more of my brain cells with the mindless gossip she’s been enjoying listening to the entire day.
“Why would we leave a perfectly good relationship only to become friends with benefits? That’s like a reversal of the natural order and pretty damned twisted, in my opinion.”
“Well, you did put up quite the show in the cafe this morning. People are dying over the sexual tension between you two, and it’s even hotter because they think you’re exes.”
“I seriously don’t understand humans; why do they have to find happiness in someone else’s misery? No one wanted me to be with Cole, but now that we’re not together, they expect us to rip each other’s clothes off in public? That’s horrible!”
She looks at me sadly. “I think it’ll take me a lot longer than freshman year to become the kind of psychologist that could answer your question. But if it helps, don’t you think anyone who lives off of someone else’s pain is the most despicable kind of human?”
“Yeah,” I tell her as I think about the reporter who brought up Cole’s mom. Since then I’d looked up several article featuring my boyfriend and had found the particular one. The story had been so far-fetched that I’d wanted to reach into the screen, scrunch up the words, and align them right. Funny how some adjectives, if placed right, could make a world of difference. Then I’d thought about Cassandra and how heartbroken she’d feel once she read that the sheriff then replaced Cole’s deceased mother with a divorcee, hungry to move up in the world of corporate medicine, and how the new doctor desperately wanted the perfect family to back up her ambitions. They’d gone on and on about how Cole had always been an outsider, how he’d been sent packing to military school, and how the Stones didn’t want him to taint the family name.
The article had sickened me, and I understood finally why Cole felt the desperate need to protect me.
“On a much brighter note, I did what you suggested. My friends, well, former friends turned polite acquaintances, were far too happy to meet with now that I’m part of Cole Stone’s posse.”
“He has a posse?”
“Of course he does, and I’m a part of it! Can you believe it? Who knew there’d be so many perks to it,” she squeals. “Anyway, so they were ready to help him out and owe him big time. I told them that he didn’t want to get stuck with some clingy Kappa sister because he wants to focus on football right now and he’s not into hooking up. I also might have implied that he just got his heart broken into smithereens by you and that he’s massively hung up on the idea of getting back together once things with the NFL calm down. If those girls talk like how I remember they do, no one’s going to go near your man.”
“Are you sure it’s going to work?”
“Like hell it is! Ain’t nobody gonna mess with my Team Colessa.”
“You seriously need to stop talking to Beth, I beg you.”
She waves off the idea like it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard and points to my books. “How’s the redo of Bitch McBitchy’s paper going?”
I cringe at the name she calls my professor because, in all honesty, the “D” I got on one of the most important papers I’d had to write this semester was the result of my own stupidity rather than her grading. Now that I’m rewriting it and going over all my mistakes, I realize that my paper reads like the person who wrote it feels the need to just throw all the knowledge she has on the paper without even realizing the meaning behind any of it. It’s cold, meticulous, and without any emotion in it, which would be great were I a science major, but alas, that’s not the case. The good thing is that now I have enough inspiration to go about my literature paper mostly because I’ve got a cocktail of emotions swirling inside me.
“I can fix it if,” I give her a pointed look, “my friend stops interrupting me with minute-by-minute updates about what people think is going on in my life.”
“Hey! I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” She grins devilishly. “So ever since I told The Worst Excuse for Humans on the Planet about you stomping all over Cole’s heart, they’ve let their imaginations run wild, something I may or may not have wholly encouraged. So, my point is, if someone asks you tomorrow if you’ve hooked up with one of the two sexy vampire brothers on that show I can never get into, you’ll know who to thank.”
I scrunch my face in confusion. “How does that even—”
She slaps a hand over my mouth. “The polite thing to do would be to thank me, Teresa.”
“That’s not even my name,” I mumble, but she’s already flitting out the door telling me she’ll see me at the butt crack of dawn since we’re working out together.
***
I’m in the cafeteria the next morning eating my yogurt and granola when several people settle down around me. Since Sarah’s in class and it’s Cami’s day to sleep in, I can’t possibly figure out who’d be brave enough to barge in on my quality time with food. I wipe my chin with the bottom of my sleeves and hesitantly take my eyes away from the bowl of goodness in front of me.
And I’m surrounded by my...teammates, as weird as it feels to say that. Wow, I’ve got teammates and they’re totally having breakfast with me! If only they could tell how hard I’m geeking out on the inside right now, they’d get right back up.
I smile brightly up at them, hoping that I haven’t ventured into serial killer territory. “Hey guys!”
They respond, but not quite as enthusiastically, given it’s still early enough in the day to be cursing your very existence.
After they down their first cups of coffee, the six girls who’ve sat down around me, including Lindsey, start to look at me quite speculatively.
“So we’ve heard things.” There’s no malice in her voice, her expression blank. “You certainly do attract your fair share of attention, don’t you, O’Connell?”
I blush, feeling the familiar tinge of embarrassment creep up my neck. “You’re talking about what happened at the cafe?”
“Yup,” she pops the p and stares at me for a while, “I want to know if it’s going to be a constant thing, people talking about you and the guy who may or may not be your boyfriend.”
�
�Would that be a problem?”
“Not a significant one, but I don’t want that kind of drama attached to my team, and I don’t want one of my dancers to be constantly distracted by the drama in her life. No one’s bigger than the team, and every member’s got to give it one hundred and ten percent. Got it?” She’s not being mean or spiteful, just protective of something she’s obviously worked really hard at.
“I understand, no more drama.”
She smiles then. “Well, I’m not exactly expecting that, given you’re sort of attached with Cole Stone, but let’s just try and limit it to once a month?”
I give her a salute. “Aye, Aye, Captain, I’ll be like clockwork.”
She pauses mid spooning some oatmeal in her mouth. “We’re going to have to work on your social skills a little.”
And I shrink into my seat.
***
That day I have the rare free evening so I walk to the bookstore where I used to work in the summer before college started. I help out there occasionally; when my schedule affords me regular working hours, only then do I let them pay me, but since these days I can only come in once a week, I work as a volunteer. Since it’s a children’s bookshop, I’ve had a fun day of working with kids and helping them find their next best book ever. It’s a great activity, and when they come back wanting to get the rest of the books in the series I introduced them to, it just makes my heart burst with joy. Earlier events of the week have been pushed to the back of my mind, and for the five hours that I work behind the counter, all I concentrate on is trying to make someone else’s life just a little bit better and not thinking about the constant restlessness in my own.
Once I’m done working and say goodbye to my coworker for the day, Dianne, I prepare to walk back home. It’s gotten much chillier outside than when I first walked here late afternoon. I pull my coat tighter around my body and nearly stuff my face in my scarf, trying to increase my pace as I walk to the dorms. Cole’s apartment would be closer and I could easily crash there for the night but...
This is ridiculous!
I huff and continue walking, Lindsey’s words playing back in my mind. What’s worse is the email I got while at work, a request from the editor of the student newspaper. Well, it wasn’t a request, more so a bribe to get me that permanent position on the paper. He wants me to write a feature on Cole, the rising superstar, but that feature wouldn’t be the good old interview with some heart-stopping photos of him in uniform being thrown in, oh no. I was told that the feature would be highly in depth and personal, that I’d have to give a play-by-play of the tragic life he lived before coming to Providence.
Honest editorial, my butt!
I didn’t refuse, though, as much as I’m in favor of a strongly worded email. Mrs. Weasley’s Howlers cower before Tessa’s verbal bitch slaps, but I restrained myself and counted to ten, like my sometimes-therapist, Cami, recommends I do. If they want an article all about Cole Stone, they’ll get one, and it’ll be the best damn article that’ll ever be written about him. I begin planning it in my head, already excited about how good it could be. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t recognize the familiar sound of footsteps running behind me.
“Damn it, Tessie, I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes.” Cole comes around me and pulls me to his chest, hugging me close.
“Oh hey.” I’m taken aback, too surprised by his sudden appearance to say anything else.
He cups my face in his hands. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer me?”
“Sorry, I was just lost in my own head, I guess.” I smile sheepishly.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Is that it? Is this your passive-aggressive way of sending me to an early grave? First the Kappas, and now letting me think that you’re purposely ignoring me?”
Playfully I shove my fist into his shoulder. “I’m not passive-aggressive, you jerk!”
He grabs the fist and brings my hand to his lips, kissing all the grooves of my knuckles one by one and making me swoon.
“That’s debatable, but right now can we get out of the cold, and will you for crying out loud call me the next time you need a ride?”
Without even asking, he removes my backpack from where it’s slung over my shoulder and hoists it on his own. Then he grabs my hand and begins dragging me to his car.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking, you know.”
“We’ve had this conversation before. When it’s dark and when it’s cold, I don’t care if you’re the Road Runner, call me, okay?”
I nod, stifling a smile.
I groan in satisfaction once I’m in the heated interior of his car and he grabs my hand over the console.
“Do I have to drop you off at the dorm?” he asks through gritted teeth, clearly unhappy at the prospect.
“You know you do. Exes who’re friends don’t really have sleepovers anymore.”
“Don’t say stuff like that when we’re together.” His hand shakes slightly in mine. “The more I hear those words coming from you, the more real they sound, and I can’t deal with that.”
“Okay, “ I say softly, “just so you know, I hate having to say them.”
He looks at me with both helplessness and determination in his eyes. “We’re going to come out of this on top, Shortcake, just stay with me.”
“You know I will.”
He attempts to give me a reassuring smile, but, like I said, I know him like he’s a part of me, and because he’s just that, I know that it’s his insecurities and fears this time around that are really going to test us to the breaking point.
Chapter Three: Alcohol Manages to Turn Me into Charlie Sheen on Fleek
In the weeks that follow, my time is filled with cramming for finals and writing papers. I redo my paper for Professor Flynn’s British Lit class and get an A. It is around that time that I realise that good grades weren’t going to come as easily to me as they did in high school. That particular realization has resulted in me retreating into my awkward turtle shell and spending all my time in the library. Occasionally I venture out for sustenance and sleep, but mostly because the staff tends to look at me like I need to pay a visit to the campus counselor. So I drag my sorry butt out of there and use the dorms only for sleeping and showering, wasting only enough time in the cafeteria so that it doesn’t look too bad when I venture back into the library.
I think my friends are worried about me; Cami has definitely tried bringing up the topic several times, but she knows better than to try to give me the “it’s not healthy” lecture. We’re all in the same boat, all struggling to just be done with the first semester of freshman year and just have weeks to do nothing but catch up on sleep. It’s closer now, the possibility of having more to look forward to than just countless words on countless pages, since I’m done with all but one of my finals. It’ll also be incredible to spend some time with my best friends, knowing that we’ll have plenty of time to spend together, just like we used to. Beth doesn’t start school till late January, and Megan and I will be free around the same time, so we’re already planning pre- and post-Christmas activities, which mostly involve a lot of sleepovers, even more food, and enough chocolate to support an entire village.
The only thing I haven’t planned to death is how things are going to be with Cole. Just the thought of him makes my heart ache because it’s been more than a few days since I’ve seen him. Either he’s busy with practice or his games, or I’m too swamped with coursework to see him when he’s free. I know it’s frustrating, even more so for him, because last night on the phone it seemed like he was itching for a fight. For someone who’s so headstrong and used to getting what he wants by any means necessary, it can’t be great having to remind himself of the thousand reasons why he can’t do what he wants.
Sighing, I power my laptop down and rub my tired eyes. In the room it’s dark, with Sarah having gone to bed an hour before. She’d been working on her own essay and it’d been so quiet in here that Cami
had walked in, bursting to tell us about whatever adventure the night had brought with her and then walked right out. We weren’t exactly hospitable, and the silence might’ve seemed eerie to an outsider, so she slowly retreated and left us to our laptops. Sarah gave up long before I did, having been too exhausted to work anymore, but I’d powered on and finished my essay. Now I feel the weariness in my bones, but there’s also elation because once I hand this in to my professor, I’m done for the semester. Done!
Carefully placing my laptop on my desk, I make a trip to the bathroom down the hallway. It is as quiet as one would expect it to be at four a.m. on a Wednesday, and so I quickly get done with business and hurry back to my room, ready to snuggle into my covers and rest for a bit. I have one afternoon class tomorrow, where I’ll be marked for a presentation, and then I’m done till after winter break. The thought makes me giddy, almost as much as knowing that when Cole and I go home, we’ll finally be away from the public scrutiny that has him holding back. The thought brings a smile to my face, and for the first time in weeks, I find it easy to go to bed.
***
Cole waits for me, grinning widely as I rush outside of class. I can’t believe it’s over! That I officially survived the first semester. Maybe I’m overreacting, because it’s not like I’ve come out of a war zone or anything, but finals in an Ivy League institution aren’t that far behind. Resisting the urge to throw myself at him, I resort to jumping on the spot like a loon.
“I take it your presentation went well?”
I notice him clenching and then unclenching his fists like he, just like me, is physically restraining himself from touching me.
“It was horrible! I got stage fright and I couldn’t get past the first two sentences, and I’m sure it looked like a train wreck, but I’m so happy right now, I don’t even care.” I grin and, what the heck, give him a quick, discreet hug. He holds me to him for more than what’s considered the appropriate time, and I fall back, feeling a little flustered. It’s already cold out and I shiver in my thick wool coat, but something about not being able to be with him in public makes the cold seep right into my bones.