The Keeping Score Box Set

by Tawdra Kandle

  We made it down to the second floor and counted off the numbers until we reached the room I’d been assigned. Unlike Gia’s door, mine was ajar, although I didn’t hear any noise from inside. I hoped like crazy that I wasn’t going to walk in on a happy family, all helping their college freshman to organize her new room. I wasn’t sure I could take too much family vibe today.

  But when I peered inside, there was only one person there, a girl. One side of the room was clearly claimed; one bed was made, one dresser moved and one desk already stacked with books, while on the other side, nothing had been touched.

  The girl sitting on the edge of the made-up bed was beautiful. Not just your typical, run-of-the-mill college pretty, but catch-your-breath-and-turn-to-stare gorgeous. She was probably about as tall as I was, I thought, although it was hard to be sure before she stood up. One long tanned leg was folded beneath her, while the other was bent, her foot resting on the mattress as she stroked color on her toenail.

  The door creaked a little as I pushed it open further, and she looked up, brushing back a curtain of long white-blonde hair. Huge blue eyes regarded me with interest.

  “You must be the roommate.” With measured movements, she replaced the nail polish brush, screwing it back onto the bottle. She untwisted her leg and dropped both feet to the floor, then stretched her arms over her head languidly as she rose. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zelda Porter.”

  I took a few steps forward. “Quinn Russell.” Hooking a thumb over my shoulder, I added, “And this is my friend, Gia Capri.”

  “Hey.” Zelda nodded. “So I got here super early and set up my stuff on this side. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” I dropped one of my bags near the foot of the empty bed. “I’m not fussy about what side of the room I have.”

  “Cool. Please tell me you’re from a big family, and you’re used to having a roommate. ‘Cause I’m an only child, and I don’t know shit about sharing.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, I’m an only, too.”

  “But she’s really easy to be around.” Gia leaped to my defense. “Quinn’s one of the nicest people I know. She’s patient, and she’s funny, and she—”

  “Gia.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Seriously. I don’t need you to testify for me.” When I saw her expression shift to hurt, I added hastily, “But thanks. It’s nice to know my fan club has my back.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get along great.” Zelda lay back on her bed, carefully crossing her bare feet at the ankle, mindful of the still-wet polish. “But I do have to ask—what did you do to get me as a roommate? I was pretty sure I was going to end up with some loser, given the situation.”

  “What situation?” I sat down on a corner of the mattress that was apparently mine.

  Zelda flicked an assessing glance at me. “I had a roommate. Or I had someone who was assigned to be my roommate, more accurately. She decided that we weren’t a good fit anymore.” The corner of her mouth twisted up a little.

  “Uh huh.” I resisted the urge to look at Gia, who’d never been known for her poker face. “Did you . . . um, disagree?”

  “You might say that.” She lifted her foot again, examining the line of her polished big toe. “I fucked her boyfriend, and she disagreed with my rationale for doing it.”

  Gia sucked in a quick breath, and I was pretty sure my mouth sagged open. “Oh.”

  Zelda sighed and set her mouth in a firm line. “Here’s the thing you need to know about me. I like boys. Men. And I like sex. I don’t do relationships.” She fingered the small charm that hung from a thin silver chain around her neck. “The girl I was supposed to room with—she lives up by Trenton. Since I’m from Lancaster, not too far away, she invited me to come up for a weekend this summer, so we could get to know each other. I did, and we got along great.” She paused. “Until she caught me riding her boyfriend’s cock in his Jeep, while it was parked in her driveway.”

  “Holy God.” Gia muttered behind me, and I couldn’t blame her.

  “Listen.” Zelda leaned forward, her eyes fastened on me. “I just told you the thing you have to know about me is that I like men and I like sex. Both true. But you also need to know, I’m not a poacher. I don’t steal boyfriends.”

  “All evidence to the contrary.” Gia murmured words again, but if Zelda heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it.

  “That guy—my would-be roommate’s boyfriend—he came on to me. He made it clear in a hundred different ways that he wanted me. He made the move. Did I say no? I didn’t. Should I have?” She hesitated. “Maybe. But I’ll tell you something. I wasn’t the first girl he cheated with. Far from it. I’m just the one he got caught fucking.”

  “And that makes you . . . what? The hero of the story?” This chick was hitting me where I was vulnerable, I knew. A long-distance relationship was trying under the best of conditions. But having a boyfriend who attracted attention wherever he went, who was part of a popular college football team and probably had girls throwing themselves at him every day and night . . . that definitely added an element of unease. The idea that there might be someone like Zelda down at Carolina, willing to sleep with any guy—yeah, that was unsettling.

  “No, I never said I was a hero. But I’m not exactly the villain, either. I didn’t so much as flirt with that son of a bitch. All I did was fail to say no when he made the offer.” She stood up again and put her hands on her hips. “By the look on your face, I’m going to assume you’ve got a boyfriend, and now you’re wondering if he’s going to be safe around me.”

  “I do have a boyfriend. But he’s never screwed around on me. I trust him.” I took a deep breath. “As far as trusting you—as long as you don’t give me any reason not to, I will. You didn’t have to tell me what happened with the girl who was supposed to be your roommate. But you were honest with me, and that counts.”

  She nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Her lips curved into a half-smile. “So I’m guessing you didn’t have the same experience I did. How’d you end up here, with me?”

  I unzipped the bag at my feet. “I had a late change of plans, and so everyone had already been assigned roommates before I signed up for housing. I was supposed to go to another college, and I changed my mind at the beginning of the summer.”

  “Oh, yeah? What, did you decide to follow your boyfriend to Birch?”

  “Nope. My boyfriend’s not here.” I pulled out a framed picture and held it out to Zelda. “He goes to Carolina University.”

  She took the photo and examined it carefully. “Damn. He’s a cutie.” She gave it back to me, smirking. “Don’t worry, doll. That’s as close to a flirt as I’ll get. So if your man’s down south, how’d you wind up here?”

  The pain slid through me like a ghost, chill and full of dread. “I was supposed to go to Evans. It’s a small college up in New England.”

  Zelda lifted one slim shoulder. “Never heard of it.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s pretty well-known for its English and creative writing majors. And it’s one of the few schools left that still offers a decent journalism program.”

  “Ah, that’s your deal, huh? You’re a writer?”

  “It’s what I want to be.” I turned the suitcase onto the bed, dumping out my clothes.

  “No, you’re already a wonderful writer.” Gia reached down, picked up one of my T-shirts from the pile and began folding it. “College is just a formality.”

  I snorted. “Well, four years is a hell of a formality.” I caught Zelda’s eye. “What’s your major? Or don’t you know?”

  For the first time since we’d come into the room, she seemed a little less sure of herself. “Ah, I’m studying plant sciences.”

  “That sounds interesting.” I cocked my head. “What do you plan to do with that after graduation?”

  Zelda smiled. “Hopefully, I’ll get to join a team working on reclaiming ecosystems that have been destroyed, either by man or by nature turning on itself. But we’ll see. There are a ton of diffe
rent opportunities in the field.”

  “Very cool. How did you—” My phone buzzed in the back pocket of my shorts, and I pulled it out, scanning the screen. “Oh, Nate’s downstairs. He wants us to go over to lunch with him. Gia, could you grab those other two bags from the backseat of my car? I need to get the yogurt in the fridge before we go.” I glanced over my shoulder. “We do have a fridge, right? I ordered one of the minis.”

  “Yeah, it’s under the window.” Zelda pointed. “I put some bottles of water in it. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s fine. I figured we’d share it.” I opened a drawer of the wood-veneer dresser and dropped a pile of T-shirts into it.

  “I’ll get the perishables and tell Nate we’ll be right down.” Gia held out her hands for my car keys, which I dug out of my pocket.

  “Thanks, G.” I waited until she had disappeared through the open door and down the hallway before I spoke again, in a lower voice. “Sorry. She means well. She’s kind of become my personal cheerleader the last few months.”

  Zelda raised one eyebrow. “Yeah, she was fast to leap to your defense. She’s very . . . loyal.”

  “Gia’s protective of me.” I zipped the suitcase again and pressed it flat. I focused on the bag and tried to keep my voice matter-of-fact. “My dad died two months ago. It was very sudden. So all of my friends kind of watch out for me now.”

  “Oh, my God.” The shocked sympathy was the part I hated the most. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” I still didn’t quite understand why I responded that way. Thanks for apologizing that my father was dead? Social convention was so odd. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here instead of at Evans. I live in Eatonboro, and this way, I can still be close to my mom.”

  “Why aren’t you living at home? I mean, not that I don’t want you for a roommate, but Eatonboro is practically walking distance, right? I passed it on my way here.”

  “This was a compromise.” I smiled. “My mother didn’t want me giving up the college experience, but I didn’t want to be three hours away from her. So this way, we both feel better.”

  “And that’s how you got saddled with me, huh? Why didn’t you try to share a room with your friend? Gia, right?”

  “Yes, Gia.” I closed the drawer and leaned against it. “We had to kind of pull some strings for me to get in here, as it was. I’d turned them down, and then I had to schmooze a lot of people to switch that around. My mom says we played the dead daddy card, and she’s right.”

  Zelda winced a little. “That’s kind of cynical, isn’t it?”

  “I guess. My parents and I have always been a little, um, irreverent. Sorry if it comes off . . . flippant. It’s not that I look at it that way.” I stared out the window, not seeing the bright green leaves on the oak just beyond the glass. “I miss my dad more than I can tell you. Every day, I wake up and for a few minutes, I can pretend he’s still alive. I can fool myself that the accident never happened. But it did, and my mother says life has to go on for us. So sometimes we border on the inappropriate, but it’s just our way of coping.” I drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Anyway, we had some connections in admissions here, and I’d already gotten into Birch as a back-up college. I was grateful they let me in so late in the game, though, and I didn’t want to push my luck by demanding my choice of roommate, too, you know? Plus, I think it’s good to expand my horizons. Gia’s two floors up from us, and that’s probably close enough.”

  “Got it.” Zelda grinned, and I was struck again by how gorgeous she was. “So who’s this Nate? If he’s not your boyfriend, is he fair game for me? And is he hot?”

  I hesitated, biting the corner of my lip. “Nate’s my best friend. He’s wonderful, but he doesn’t have much experience with women.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Ooooh, an innocent for me to corrupt?”

  “No.” There was a little more emphasis in my voice than I meant there to be. “It’s not like that. He . . .” I wasn’t sure how to explain Nate to someone like Zelda, but I had to say something before she met him. “He was sick a lot as we were growing up. He’s got a degenerative muscle disease, and he’s—he’s different.”

  Zelda studied me. “So you’re saying hands off.”

  “Well, no. I’m just saying—don’t come on too strong, okay? Nate doesn’t have a real radar when it comes to girls, and it takes him a long time to make new friends. He’s known Gia for over a year, and he’s only now starting to trust her. Maybe don’t steamroll him.”

  She laughed. “Wow, I really made a first impression on you, didn’t I? Don’t worry, doll. I know how to play it cool. And trust me, if someone I respect tells me to keep away, I do it.”

  Gia came in with two canvas bags over her shoulders. “Here we go. I don’t think it all has to go in the fridge, does it?”

  I unhooked one bag from her arm. “No, just the yogurt and the cheese.” I smiled at Zelda. “I’m addicted to crackers and cheese. It’s my go-to snack.”

  “As addictions go, there are worse.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her shorts, watching me.

  “Nate’s waiting for us. I told him we’d be right down.” Gia set the other bag on top of the mini-fridge.

  “I’m ready.” I closed the refrigerator door and turned to Zelda. “Want to come with? You can meet Nate.”

  She met my gaze steadily. “You sure you want me?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Isn’t that how roommates get to know each other?”

  “Okay.” She spread her hands in front of her. “Let’s mambo.”

  As we closed the door behind us, locking it with the key on the cord I’d looped around my wrist, I slid Zelda a sideways glance. “You said you’d listen if someone you respected asked you to stay away from a guy. Do you respect me?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know you yet, but for the time being, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Thanks for that.” I sighed and nudged Gia with my elbow. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Nate was sprawled on a bench outside the front door of our dorm. As we approached him, I tried to see my friend as a stranger might: a typical college guy, long legs stretched out on the pavement, his brown hair a little too long over his eyes. He wasn’t muscled or broad the way some of the boys passing us were, and unlike most of them, Nate wore jeans. He was self-conscious about the way his legs looked in shorts and never went out in public with them on.

  He flipped up his sunglasses when I was within a few feet of him, and the practiced, almost-cool move took me by surprise. Sometimes I forgot that Nate wasn’t still the awkward kid I’d known all my life. A knot of girls passing us stared in his direction, and one of them giggled, her eyes going wide. Yeah, Nate was definitely going to have his share of admirers at college.

  He didn’t give them any attention at all, though. His gaze was on me, his eyes searching, checking to make sure I was okay, the same way he’d been doing for the last few months. I knew it was because he cared for me, but I was suddenly tired of being the one who worried everyone.

  “How’s the room?” He glanced at Zelda, but again, he didn’t react to her.

  “It’s good so far.” I forced a smile. “Basic dorm. You know. Oh, and this is Zelda. She’s the lucky girl who gets to share a room with me for the very first time in my life.”

  “Hey, it’s a reciprocal deal. You’re my first, too.” She winked at me and held out a hand. “Nate, right? Nice to meet you.”

  He hesitated only a beat before he took the offered hand. “Yeah. Good to meet you, too.”

  I plopped down on the wooden bench next to him. “So how about yours? How’s the roommate?”

  Nate straightened. “Uh, so far, so good.” He fiddled with some chipping paint on the seat. “He’s actually a football player.”

  “Seriously?” I frowned. “I thought you were in a, uh . . .” I paused. “Like, an accessible room.” I didn’t use the word handicap, but it hung out there anyway.

  “I
am.” Nate’s voice was mild, as it always was. There were things he was sensitive about, like the way his legs looked or when he was awkward getting up or down. Things I was used to ignoring or pretending didn’t exist. But accommodations made for his limitations had never fazed him. “I should’ve said he used to be a football player. I guess he played for Franklin Township. He was a year ahead of us, but he took a bad hit on the field during a game when he was a senior. Like, a seriously-bad, life-threatening hit.”

  “Oh, God, I think I remember that.” Gia leaned on the back of the bench. “It happened early in the season, before we played them. I heard it was horrible. Like, people on the sidelines could hear . . .” She trailed off, biting her lip as she glanced at me. “Anyway.”

  “He’s paralyzed, in a wheel chair. He’s not real talkative, but he was civil.” Nate exhaled. “I think maybe he was a little surprised that I could walk. The housing people told him he’d be rooming with someone like him.”

  “What’s his name?” I’d always gone to our high school football games, but I hadn’t paid much attention to players on the other teams, at least not until I’d started dating Leo.

  “Eli. Eli Tucker, but he said everyone calls him Tuck.”

  Zelda was standing next to me, and I think I was the only one who heard her sharp intake of breath. I swiveled my head to look up at her, but her face had frozen into inexpression.

  “Eli Tucker? From Franklin Township?” She tilted her head and spoke with measured indifference. “Huh. I think I met him once.”

  When I raised an eyebrow, she added, “A long time ago, though. I doubt he’d remember me.” She straightened a little, as though stiffening her spine, and rubbed her stomach. “Are we going to eat or what? I’m starving.”

  “Sure.” I pushed up off the bench and began heading for the brick path I was pretty sure led toward the student life center. “Let’s go.”

  I motioned for Zelda to walk with me, as Gia joined us, giving Nate the privacy to maneuver to his feet. We didn’t move very fast, and within a few minutes, he came up alongside me.