Five things, p.3
Five Things, page 3
“Wooow, okay. The things you learn, I guess.”
“Oh, they’re learning.” A flush crawls up my cheeks at the insinuation, and a scowl crosses my face. I’m not a prude, honestly, but nobody wants to hear about their mom learning things like that. “Anyway, they’ve become fast friends over the last few months and figured since we were both attending BU, they’d hook us up as besties, but it seems your mom may have forgotten to let you in on that information.”
“Yeah, I think she did,” I say, grabbing the last bottle of water from my stash in the fridge and leaning against the counter opposite Maisie.
“I know this is probably a lot to take in, me just barreling in here,” she starts, smiling softly at me. “But I’m totally out of my element here, over two thousand miles away from home, and I could really use a friend.”
My heart aches for her a little. I’m little less than a two-hour drive from home, and that feels like a world away. I can’t begin to imagine being that far from my parents.
“And, if I’m not mistaken, Beatrice,” she continues when I still don’t say anything. Her gaze flicks over the dorm once more before settling on me, her eyes softer than before. “I think you could probably use a friend too.”
Chapter Three
Beatrice
“So, Beatrice Marie Fletcher,” Maisie says when the waiter leaves our table after dropping a basket of bread in the center. Grabbing one of the rolls, I break it into pieces before popping one in my mouth. “What’s your story?”
“What makes you think I have one?”
“We all have a story. Some are just more interesting than others.”
“Well, you’ll be disappointed to learn that mine is not one of the interesting ones.” At least not the one I’m willing to share at this moment in time. “Only child, two parents still madly in love, coasted through high school with average grades. That’s about all there is to know.”
“Why do I not believe you?” She ponders, a tiny smirk on her lips. Shrugging, I shove another piece of bread in my mouth, chewing gingerly while she assesses me.
Truthfully, my life story is riddled with drama and pain.
While Maisie seems like a genuinely nice girl, there’s no telling how she’d look at me if she learned the truth. It’s only been in the last hour of spending time with her, from leaving my dorm to arriving at this tiny pizza place, that I realized how much I need a friend. And selfishly, that’s not something I’m willing to jeopardize right now.
“What about you?” I ask instead, happy when she takes the bait and regales me with tales of her childhood. Youngest child of three, her older siblings being brothers, and it’s easy to see where she gets her sparkly personality from with that information.
Being an only child means I’ve never had to fight for my parents’ attention, or share a bathroom, or do anything that having siblings entails. It’s nice for the most part, but I’ve always been jealous of those with close bonds like that.
Like Willow and Ma—yeah, no. Not going there.
“Figured it was time to spread my wings a little,” she finishes, explaining how she chose to go to a school thousands of miles away from her home in New York. “Plus, California? The sun, the sea, the hot boys . . .” She fans herself with the menu, blowing out a breath. “What’s not to love?”
Letting out a chuckle, I lean back in my chair. “I’ll take you on the sun and the sea, but the boys, not so much. I had a pretty shitty experience with an ex, so I’m not so good on that front.”
“He bad in the sack?” she asks before popping her straw in her mouth and taking a sip of her soda.
“Yeah, something like that,” I mumble, already wondering why I said anything. There’s something easy about being with Maisie, that pouring my heart out, even after knowing her for a short while, doesn’t seem quite so bad. But that little tidbit is all I can let slip.
“That’s a goddamn travesty, which means we need to get you back on the horse,” she tells me before flagging down a waiter.
We order our food, sharing a large chicken supreme, and a couple more drinks. The waiter leaves, though not before sliding his number on a business card over to Maisie.
“What just happened?” I ask, flabbergasted, my eyes wide as I flick between her and where the waiter was standing.
Maisie laughs, winking at me. “The magic of sneaky looks across the room. You, my friend, just weren’t paying attention. But don’t worry, I’ve got you. By the end of this year, you’re going to have long forgotten about that shitty ex of yours, mark my words.”
If only that were a remote possibility, but instead of telling her that, I force a smile onto my face and grab my drink, distracting myself with the sweet nectar as it slides down my throat.
After dropping Maisie off at her dorm with the promise we’ll get together tomorrow and go shopping, I slide into a parking space and switch the engine off.
The campus is quiet as I wander over the asphalt toward the dorm, the afternoon sun beaming down on me.
Now that I’m alone again, a weird sense of dread takes over my body. My eyes move over the parking lot slowly as the hair at the nape of my neck stands to attention, my back straightening. I find nothing, but the feeling of being watched doesn’t leave.
Not when I push into the foyer, or even as I make my way up the stairs, my fingers gripping the strap of my bag. By the time I reach my door, I’ve mostly convinced myself I’m being paranoid, but still the sensations linger.
My fingers tremble as I try to force the key into the lock. It takes me a few tries, and my frustration grows the longer I stand there. When it finally connects, I turn the key and let out a relieved sigh. The door swings open under the weight of my palm, but instead of calm and quiet when I step through, panic overloads my senses.
The suitcases I’d left in the corner are strewn open, the clothes I’d carefully packed into them, stuffed neatly into cubes, are nowhere to be found. My eyes wander over the space, looking for anything else amiss, but there’s no sign of anyone being here. Nothing beyond the missing contents of my luggage.
Though when I walk into the bedroom and my eyes lock on the red words staining my wall, nausea kicks in and a scream bubbles from my throat.
Don’t get too comfortable . . . you won’t be staying.
Maverick
Beatrice’s scream echoes through the hall, even with the heavy wooden door separating us. Doors creak open, heads popping past the frames to follow the commotion.
Red paint stains my hands, but still, it’s not enough.
The moment I saw her park in the lot, everything shifted.
The rage I thought I was learning to control came back tenfold. The urge to drag her away from here—to force her to leave—coursed through me.
When she stepped out, long, tanned legs coming into view, my heart jolted in my chest. Dressed in denim shorts and a baggy gray tee, paired with white Chucks, memories of our days as kids came flooding back.
As she drew closer to where I hid, her red hair tossed over one shoulder in a messy braid, her face bare of any makeup, my breath halted.
It’s been two years since I’ve seen that girl, yet the moment my eyes landed on her, my body wanted to go to her. Time has been kind to her, not that it needed to be. She always was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and that hasn’t changed.
But her body has.
Long gone is the young, awkward teen girl, and in her place a gorgeous woman with ample curves and legs that go on for days despite her short stature. Not that it matters what she looks like.
How can it with a core as rotten as hers.
My body, though, doesn’t seem to get the message my brain is trying to circulate. Instead, my dick stays hard in my pants, unwilling to go down despite who she is and what she did.
When her door pops open, I slink into the shadows of the staircase, watching as her hands tremble around the keys she clumsily pushes into the lock. She glances around when she steps back, freezing with wide eyes as she realizes she has an audience.
Her shoulders slump, her face turning a beautiful blush pink as she dips it to the ground, rushing past them all and heading straight toward me. I push off the wall, taking the steps two at a time to avoid her seeing me. The last thing I’m ready to do is deal with Beatrice up close.
Sunshine bathes me as I make it through the double doors, the warmth a welcome change from the chill my body has been feeling since I heard her name.
Nash waits by my truck, disappointment heavy in his expression when I reach him.
“Coach wants to see us,” he says, pushing off the metal and stalking round to the passenger door. He hops in, brushing his hand through his dirty-blond hair before he turns to me when I slide into the driver’s seat, flicking the engine to life. “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did anything?” I retort, reversing out of the spot and heading toward the football field.
“Really? You wanna play it like that?”
Rolling my eyes, I flip through the radio, settling on an old hip-hop station. “I left her a little message, welcoming her to college, that’s all. Nothing to get your panties twisted over.”
“Mav.” He sighs, his hands landing on his short clad legs. “Is it worth it?”
“What?”
“The risk of throwing everything away again? You’ve worked so hard. Don’t let her being here ruin that for you.”
“So what do you suggest I do? Smile and wave when I pass her in the halls? Thank her for slipping back into my life just as I got things back on track?”
“I’m not saying that.” My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, my grip punishing as I flick my gaze to his. “Just be careful, Maverick. I’m on your team, no matter what, always have been. But I won’t watch you flush all the work you’ve done down the toilet all in the name of revenge on a girl we once knew. A girl who made a mistake.”
“Was it a mistake?” I ask him—the same question that has swirled through my brain over and over as the years have passed. “A mistake is leaving milk out on the counter or handing in the wrong homework. Lying to the people around you? That’s a choice, Nash, not a mistake. She knew exactly what she was doing that day, and I’m the one who had to live with the consequences. The only mistake made was ever trusting Beatrice to have my back.”
He doesn’t answer; I doubt he knows how to. There’s a reason we don’t talk about this shit.
Because despite what he says about being on my team, he’s always played devil’s advocate where Beatrice is concerned. When everyone around us struggled with her actions, he tried to understand them. When my family cursed her name, cutting off contact with hers, he stayed silent.
To him, Beatrice was like the little sister he never had. Their friendship was purely platonic, their bond similar to mine and Willows.
To me . . . she was more.
It was never spoken aloud, the way I felt about her, but I think she knew. Just as I thought she felt similarly, not that we were ever going to act on it. The danger of losing each other was too great, ruining the friendship we’d found with one another.
So, when she started dating Sebastian at fourteen, I stepped back. Watching her from afar, knowing it was the right thing to do for all of us.
Had I known then what would happen only three years later, my choice would have been different. But, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. And in the end, Beatrice and I still did the one thing I feared the most. We ruined everything.
Chapter Four
Beatrice
The coffee in my hand has long since gone cold, the liquid bitter as I force it down my throat. My feet sink into the sand, my white sneakers turning a mucky brown as I walk along the beach. The sea dips in and out as the sky darkens, the usually packed seafront bare of life despite the warmth lingering in the air.
After leaving my dorm, I headed over to the administration building to report it, only to be told there’s nothing they can do. “Freshman pranks”—the lady working the desk took great joy in telling me—“It’s to be expected.”
Maybe she’s right, but my instinct is telling me she’s not.
The writing on the wall felt too personal. This wasn’t a harmless prank. Even if it was, why me, and who would have done it? I’ve been here for all of two minutes, having met only one other person in that time.
It doesn’t make sense someone could want me gone, not enough they’d come and steal my clothes and paint my walls.
Outside of Maisie, who I only met today and who’s been with me since I left my dorm untainted earlier today, the only person who knows me is Nash. And while I haven’t been able to call him a friend for a long time, I struggle to believe he could ever do this.
He’s too kind, too soft—in the best ways.
He’s the guy I looked up to and called a big brother back then . . . He’s not changed all that much in two years. Has he?
My phone buzzes, and when I see my dad’s name, I answer, knowing I can’t put off talking to my parents much longer.
“Hey, Little One.” Dropping down to my ass, I peel off my shoes and socks, straightening my legs until warm water tickles my toes. “You’ve been avoiding us.”
A small chuckle slips past my lips at his teasing tone, but there’s worry lingering there too, which only makes my stomach drop. “Uh-uh, I’ve been busy. Making friends. Living the college dream.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but it’s better this way. “I met a girl named Maisie today actually. Is there anything you and Mom want to tell me about her?”
“That is something you need to talk to your mom about,” he answers, chortling to himself. “But don’t be too mad at her. She wanted to make sure you weren’t totally alone before you got a chance to settle in and find your new routine.”
“A heads-up would have been awesome, but you’re lucky she’s nice. I like her, so I guess I have to thank Mom for that one.”
“Maybe don’t,” he says, humming for a beat. “Her head is already big enough.”
“Dad.” I laugh, knowing he’s only joking. The love my parents have for each other is the kind books are written about. It’s true and beautiful—if not also mildly annoying having to be privy to their constant displays of affection.
“Oh, I miss that sound.” He sighs into the line, sadness laced in his voice. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Dad. But I need this.”
The water travels over my calves now, submerging them in the sand, and a small smile works its way onto my lips. The beach at night is my safe place. The one place I feel comfort, amongst the water. When the lights go out, the sky darkens, and the beach empties, I find my way there. Watching the sea and the sun set in the distance.
“I know, kiddo,” Dad agrees. “It doesn’t make it any easier though, letting you go.”
“It’s not forever,” I say, though there’s something tickling the back of my mind that tells me while that’s the truth, everything is about to change.
“I hope it is,” he says wistfully. “It’s time, Little One. Time to move on and live your life.”
Tears spring to my eyes, my throat tightening. “Dad.”
“We’ll always be here, waiting for the days you choose to visit home.” Tears roll over my lashes, my chest aching with each word that comes out of his mouth. “But there’s a whole world out there just waiting for you to explore it, and it’s beautiful, Beatrice. You, more than anyone, deserve beautiful.”
“What the hell?” Maisie shouts, stepping farther into my bedroom, her eyes wide with shock, her mouth gaping as she takes in the mess left on the wall. “What happened?”
“Freshman prank,” I grumble, shoving on the sweater I left behind in my car when I drove up here the other day. Maisie scoffs, her eyes locking on the few clothes I had stored in a duffel in my car, luckily the ones I felt too lazy to collect after bringing all my other stuff upstairs.
But there’s not enough there to last a week, let alone a whole semester.
“This is a freshman prank?”
“Apparently so, according to a lovely lady down in administration who very kindly told me they could do nothing for me. Which means I have to go buy paint today and clothes. A whole freakin’ wardrobe of clothes.”
Sighing, I grab my purse, slinging it over one shoulder while I shove my phone in the back pocket of my denim shorts. The same ones I’ve been wearing for well over twenty-four hours now.
“Wanna tag along? It’s not exactly the day of shopping you had in mind, but I’ll drive. Hell, I’ll even chuck in lunch and all the coffee you can drink.”
“Girl, you had me at wardrobe shopping, but I’ll never say no to free food and coffee.” She laughs, wrapping her arm in mine and tugging me to the door.
The hall is a bustle of energy, another round of people moving in ahead of classes starting in two days, but we easily slip past, heading toward the stairs to avoid the queues at the elevator.
A few people stare at me, those that were around to hear my commotion yesterday, but I keep my head high and my gaze forward. For too long I’ve hidden in the shadows, worried about whispers, but I can’t keep doing that, not if I have any plans to survive.
My dad was right. I need to start living. The past can only control you as long as you let it—at least that’s what my therapist tells me—and I’m over my past lingering in the distance, weighing me down.
This is a new start, where nobody knows me or my story. Here at BU, I can be anyone I want. I’m not sure who I am anymore, but I’m eager to find out.
Maverick
Coach rides our asses the whole practice, and I can feel the annoyance rolling off my teammates in waves when they glance at me. Gray whacks my helmet, a what-the-fuck look on his face as he passes.
