The next morning I don’t feel like going to my first class, so I head to Steph’s room instead. She’s probably still asleep, but I’m bored and her dorm is closer to my next class than anyone else’s in the crew. I text her and tell her I’m on way, but I don’t wait for her reply.
The hallway of the old building is nearly empty, only a few frantic stragglers rushing by with their arms full of books. I knock, so as not to give Miss Prim a heart attack, and, hearing no reply, let myself in with the key Steph has given me.
To keep myself from falling asleep on Steph’s shitty mattress, I flip through the basic cable channels. Just as some stuffy “doctor” is giving marriage advice to two idiots, the door opens and Steph’s roommate rushes in. She’s wrapped in a wet towel, and her long, soaked hair is stuck to her face in an almost comical way. As her eyes widen with surprise, I turn the TV off and stare at the specimen before me.
“Um… Where is Steph?” she practically squeaks. She stares down at the floor, back to me, to the floor again.
I smile at her embarrassment and stay silent.
“Did you hear me? I asked you where Steph is.” Her voice is softer now, more polite.
My smile grows. “I don’t know.”
She’s squirming, and I suspect that with how hard she’s gripping the edges of her towel, she’ll shred the material. I turn the TV back on and sit up.
“Okay? Well, could you like… leave or something, so I can get dressed?”
Well, I’m not going to leave. Not when I just found the only comfortable position on this bed.
I roll over and cover my face with my hands to humor her. “Don’t flatter yourself—it’s not like I am going to look at you.”
She’s awfully full of herself to think that I would sit and stare at her.
Well… okay, I probably would, especially given that the towel she’s wearing is hugging her body in a damn nice way.
I hear her shuffling around, the sound of a bra fastening, and her breathing heavily. She’s nervous still, and I would love to see her face as she tries to put her clothes on as fast as she can. I would uncover my eyes just to annoy her, but I’m in a decent mood. Plus, I’m only going to see this girl a few times, so may as well keep it somewhat civil.
“Are you done yet?” I roll my eyes under my hands.
“Could you be any more disrespectful? I did nothing to you. What is your problem?” she yells.
The fuck? I hadn’t expected such a smartass mouth on such an innocent-looking girl. She’s trying hard to be patient with me, and I’m trying hard to make her explode. I can’t help but laugh.
As I stare at Steph’s pissed-off roommate, it feels odd laughing this way, this hard, but her expression is just fucking priceless. She’s so pissed.
The door shoots open, and Steph enters, dressed in last night’s clothes. “Sorry I’m late. I have a hell of a hangover,” she whines.
I roll my eyes again. Of course she has a hangover… when doesn’t she?
“Sorry, Tess, I forgot to tell you Hardin would be coming by.” She shrugs her shoulders. Like she gives a fuck.
“Your boyfriend is rude,” the blond girl snaps.
That does it for me, and I laugh again. Steph looks at me, brow raised at how much I’m laughing.
“Hardin Scott is not my boyfriend!” she exclaims—maybe a little too emphatically—and starts choking on laughter along with me.
We’ve fucked around before, but never dated.
I don’t date.
“What did you say to her?” Steph turns to me and puts her hands on her hips in a failed attempt to scold me. Then she turns to the girl. “Hardin has a… a unique way of conversing.”
Conversing? I’m not attempting to talk to either of them. I shrug my shoulders and go back to finding some mindless shit to watch.
“There’s a party tonight—you should come with us, Tessa,” I hear Steph say. Yeah, right, like this chick is going to go to a party? I pull my lip ring between my teeth to stop from laughing again. I stare straight ahead at the TV.
“Parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I have to go get some things for my desk and walls.”
“C’mon… it’s just one party! You’re in college now—just one party won’t hurt,” Steph practically pleads, trying to convince her. “Wait, how are you getting to the store? I thought you didn’t have a car?”
“I was going to take the bus. And besides, I can’t go to a party—I don’t even know anyone,” she responds. I laugh again. “I was going to read and Skype with Noah.”
Because going to a store is so much fun. I bet she shops at fucking Target; she seems like the type. And her Skype date… I bet she’s going to show an ankle to her poor excuse of a boyfriend.
“You don’t want to take the bus on a Saturday! They’re way too packed. Hardin can drop you on the way to his place… right, Hardin?” Steph glances at me.
I won’t be dropping anyone off anywhere.
“And you’ll know me at the party,” Steph continues. “Just come… please?”
“I don’t know… and no, I don’t want Hardin to drive me to the store,” the obnoxious girl whines. I shift over and smile at the two of them; it’s all I can do, since they’re both annoying the shit out of me.
“Oh no! I was really looking forward to hanging out with you,” I say. “Come on, Steph, you know this girl isn’t going to show at the party.” I take a moment to look at the way her white T-shirt is tight across her chest and hips. She should dress this way instead of that long-ass skirt she was wearing the other day. Her khaki shorts are still too long, but you can’t win ’em all.
“Actually, yeah, I’ll come,” the girl says—Tessa was her name, I think. Yeah, it was. I hear shrieking and squealing, and it’s my cue to leave when the girls start hugging and shit.
“Yay! We’ll have so much fun!” Steph promises the girl as I leave the room.
I DRIVE FARTHER on to campus and sit through the rest of my classes for the day. Afterward, I get a text from Nate to meet him and Tristan at Blind Bob’s and head that way. I turn the music up in my car and roll the window down. When I was a teen, I used to think people were fucking show-offs when they blasted music from their car windows, but now I get it. Sometimes I just want to drown out the world around me, and music and reading are the only things that do that for me. Everyone has their thing, and these are mine.
When I need silence, the noise helps.
Better than a fifth of Jack, I suppose. My mum, crying on the phone in the middle of the night, would say so.
“What took so long?” Tristan takes a bite from a hamburger; half the toppings fall onto the plate in front of him.
“Traffic was a bitch.” I slide into the booth next to Nate. Our usual server nods at me, and moments later she appears at the table with a glass of water.
“Still sober, yeah?” Nate questions; his eyes carefully avoid my glass as he takes a drink of his beer.
“Yep. Still sober.” I finish half the glass of water, trying not to think about the way an ice-cold beer would taste on my tongue.
“Good for you, man. I know everyone gives you shit about it, but I think it’s pretty fucking awesome, the self-control you have.”
At Nate’s praise, I shift awkwardly.
Tristan laughs, wiping a napkin across his chin. “Self-control? I heard Molly screaming your name just last night.”
“Well, sober with drinking. No, no, of course not chicks.” Nate laughs along, pushing his shoulder into mine, and I’m thankful for the change in tone. It was getting too personal for my liking.
Nate ends up convincing me to let him drive my car. He only had one beer, and I don’t feel like driving really, so I agree to let him if he drives me to pick up Steph and her roommate.
“She’s been blowing up my phone, says you won’t answer her,” Nate says as we pull out of the parking lot.
I roll my eyes. “I told her an hour ago that I would give them a ride.” Steph can be really fucking annoying.
“I just told her we’re on our way. I’m glad that Tessa girl is coming with her,” he says, and rolls down the driver’s-side window.
“Why?”
“Because she seems nice and should definitely get out more. Steph said she thinks her boyfriend is her only friend or something.”
“Boyfriend? You mean Mother Theresa has a boyfriend?” I scoff. Wait, the blond guy in the dorm? They look like siblings, not boyfriend and girlfriend. Is that who she’s Skyping with? Definitely a fully clothed video, then—with an added blazer, probably, for protection.
“Yeah, he was there with her, that preppy dude.”
“Go figure.” I laugh and turn up the music. Tess and her stuck-up Gap-model boyfriend would hate this music. I turn it up even louder.
When we pull into the parking lot of Steph’s dorm, my phone buzzes. It’s Molly’s name, so I hit ignore.
“Ladies.” Nate greets the girls as they walk up to the car. Steph is dressed in a fishnet dress, and her tagalong is wearing what looks like a maroon sack. I don’t get it. I saw the outline of her body in that towel—why does she wear this hideous shit?
“You do know that we’re going to a party, not a church—right, Theresa?” I say as she climbs into the car.
“Please don’t call me Theresa. I prefer Tessa,” she says succinctly. Snobbily.
I knew her name would be Theresa. I’ve read enough novels to put that together. I seem to have struck a chord with this one.
“Sure thing, Theresa,” I taunt her. As we drive, I glance in the mirror a few times to look at her. She doesn’t appear annoyed when she doesn’t know my eyes are on her. The house is close; we only have to sit through a few minutes of awkward silence until we arrive. Nate parks in front of the house behind a line of cars.
She huffs and rolls her eyes. “It’s so big—how many people will be here?” Theresa asks. Doesn’t the full lawn give that away?
“A full house. Hurry up,” I tell her, shutting the car door. She just sits there, in shock, I think, and I walk up the yard.
