The rest of the week passed without much incident.
Classes were hard, but I knew they would be. I already had a short paper due in two of them, and we had quizzes in my other two classes. Nicole and Savannah never came back down to my room, but I didn’t blame them. I used my own exit to come and go, so the only times I left my room were to venture to the fridge in the basement. I’d grab my food and head right back to my room. Wash, rinse, repeat.
But I heard them all in the house. Traipsing around.
I heard the guys, too. They seemed to be here anytime the girls were, and after that one time of running into Lisa downstairs, I never saw her again. Her door remained shut at all times. And Gail called me two more times, but I didn’t pick up. And it wasn’t that I had to guess what she was calling about. She told me in great detail. In my voicemail. Both times. Lengthy messages.
All about me calling Stone.
Had I reached out yet? He had a Sunday game, was I watching it? She bet he’d give me tickets. She bet he’d give all my friends tickets, too. Apparently, Barb had told him I was here. Apparently, Barb had told him Charles gave his phone number to my dad, who gave it to Gail, who gave it to me. So apparently, Stone was waiting for me to call him. Or text him. Or even email, because she sent me his email address last night.
I was getting a pounding headache from the constant reminders about Stone. My dad knew it was all bullshit. Why was he not stepping in?
I was listening to another voice message from her when I walked into my room that night. My last class had been brutal. Intro to Marine Biology might’ve been titled an introductory class, but it was still an advanced one, and my head was swimming with all the different classifications of planktonic species. So it took me an hour to realize it was Friday night, and all I heard was nothing. It was completely silent upstairs. I almost felt like rejoicing and throwing a party of my own because I was certain they’d be living it up, but then I remembered.
The football team had an away game tomorrow. That’s where they went. They must’ve traveled all together, so they took their party on the road. Thank God.
That was…a flash of jealousy sliced through me, followed by other emotions, feelings I had no reason feeling, and I stuffed it all down. Completely. I stomped on it. With both feet. And I did a one-two-kick, then a jump and down again. It was pushed as far to the bottom as I could muster, and once my head was free, I figured it was the perfect night to indulge my solitude. Chipotle it would be.
My phone rang as I was emptying out my backpack.
Seeing an unknown number flash, I paused a second, then cursed at myself. How old was I? Twelve. Jesus. My stepmom was the only call I skirted, so I hit the accept button. “Hello?”
“Is this… Dusty?”
I sat up straighter. “Siobhan?”
“Yeah!” A relieved laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to think I’m a stalker, but I got your number from Dr. Anderson, not that she knows that. I really hope that’s okay?”
I relaxed, slouching back down. “Oh, yeah. We should’ve exchanged numbers this week, anyway.”
Our last class today had been a quiz, and once that was done, everyone shot out of there. The quiz had been brutal.
“Um…” She got quiet. “So, why do I feel like I’m asking you out on a date?” A nervous hiccup. “Oh. Sorry. But, yeah. What are you doing tonight? Do you already have plans?”
I eyed my keys and frowned. “To be honest, I was going to hit up Chipotle. That. That’s my exciting college life Friday night plans.”
She laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t mind Chipotle myself, but want to head over here? My roommate and I were going to settle in for a movie marathon. We were thinking Harry Potter or Fifty Shades. We haven’t decided.”
I was gripping my phone so tightly. “What? No football game?”
“That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“And no.” Her nervous hiccup was back. “We’re not big football watcher people. I mean, our lives are spent in biology labs. The most sporting things we do is trying to grab different kinds of fish to tag them. When it’s the weekend, we’re either studying or we’re relaxing. You know what I mean?”
I didn’t, not yet, but I lied. “Yeah. Totally.”
“We’ve got some wine here, too. You can sleep over, if you want. We have a super comfortable couch.”
My decision was made. I didn’t have to force myself to be a lionfish. I stood, reaching for my keys. “What’s your address?”
I picked up Chipotle for her, myself, and her roommate. They were supplying the place to hang out at and the wine, so the food was on me. I’d just skim back on a couple meals later that week. It was doable. The body was a great adapter, one or two missed meals wasn’t a big deal.
So it was all worth it, and when I rang their bell, both were in Harry Potter pajamas and I knew I’d found my people. Her roommate’s name was Emily, and within ten minutes of the first movie, we were all fast friends.
I’d been feeling guilty about ditching my roommates the other night, like maybe I was wrong to do it.
Was I? My feelings got hurt. Dent didn’t even matter. Nicole. Savannah. I was thinking I’d been too quick to judge before I shut them down. Maybe? But I also couldn’t help but wonder…did they even notice I was gone? If they hadn’t noticed, then I had nothing to feel guilty about.
But the last two days, I’d been thinking it was me in the wrong and I was the problem, yet here I was. I was sitting with a new friend and had made another friend, so maybe I wasn’t actually the problem.
And that was making me feel all sorts of better. On a Friday night, no less.
My phone rang right then. I knew without looking it was Gail, and I’d ditched her enough this week.
I rose, gesturing to their patio with my phone. “Mind if I go out there to take this?”
“No, no.” Siobhan waved a hand. “Go for it. We’ll pause and make some margaritas.”
I only grinned. They had a whole discussion if they should indulge in wine or margaritas. Emily wanted margaritas. Siobhan wanted wine. Emily had won out, and she sent me a tiny grin and a thumbs up as she followed her roommate into the kitchen.
Stepping outside, on the third ring I answered as I shut the door behind me. “Hello?”
“Your stepmom has been harassing my mom.” A low, gravelly voice greeted me.
I cursed under my breath. That’s what I get for not saving his number in my contacts.
“Yeah,” he bit out. “Fucking A, Dust.”
Dust.
That pissed me off.
He didn’t get to call me out of the fucking blue, then use that nickname he used when we actually were friends. Oh-to-the-hell-fuck-no.
“Fuck you.”
He was silent, hearing me, then a low and savage growl came from the other end. “Are you kidding me? Your stepmom has some delusion that you and I are fucking destined to be or something. Where’s she getting that piece of shit story?”
He didn’t say it outright, didn’t point a finger in my direction, but I felt slapped in the face by his accusation anyway.
I bit out, my blood boiling, “Trust me, asshole. It’s not because of me.”
“Put her in her place. You and I, we ain’t anything. Got that?”
“Abundantly.” And because I knew where he was going, and I was petty and I wanted to get there first, I hung up on him. Bastard.
Then, a moment.
I couldn’t breathe.
Dust.
Fuuuuuck him.
We built a fort together.
We played in the woods together and in the river that ran through both our properties.
We had a whole maze put in place.
I never did the dolls thing growing up.
I was outside. Dirty. Rough. We played tag and we pretended to hunt shit.
His dog was the friendliest German shepherd alive and he’d been horrible at protecting us. We pretended he was our guard dog anyway.
My mom baked for us.
His mom cooked for us.
We were best friends until sixth grade, until puberty hit, and suddenly Stone was too fucking cool for me.
Rage, long and deep, rose up in me, and grabbing ahold of the bannister, I bent over, letting out a scream like I’d never yelled before.
Hearing a clambering behind me, I remembered where I was, and a whole new litany of curses flashed in my mind.
I’d forgotten.
Real shit and private shit just went public, and turning, wiping all of it away, I waved a hand with an awkward smile on my face. “I’m good,” I said as soon as the door opened again. “Sorry. Just an annoying call from home.”
They both seemed concerned, but were polite about not being pushy. I could tell they were either weirded out by me, my reaction, or I don’t know what else, but the easygoing and carefree vibes of our Friday night was gone. My outburst of anger had ended that, so maybe it was me? All my problems with other people. Maybe I needed to really decide what I wanted? If I wanted friends, I might need to seek some professional help and figure out what I was doing wrong…or if I didn’t want friends, then I was good.
I left halfway through the second movie, and when I say I left, I mean that I felt it was in the most awkward way ever.
Emily and Siobhan seemed more relaxed when the first one ended. The margaritas might’ve helped, but there were quite a few sideways glances my way, and once during the second movie, Emily gave up all discreetness and openly stared at me. I knew right then that I needed to go.
Saying my goodbyes, Siobhan walked me to the door. Emily remained on the couch, giving me a wave, but I could tell she was relieved I was going. I was crushing their Friday night chill sesh and I didn’t want to be responsible for that.
“Dr. Anderson is doing a research study. I have to go to the marine lab and check on her seahorses tomorrow. You want to come with?”
I almost did a double-take.
“Are you serious?” Not because this was awkward, she wanted me to go, and why would she invite me for another outing? But in the way that I was already preening because she was talking about seahorses. The males were the ones who carried the eggs, and what other species did that? Also, they lived the life of mostly resting and eating, and well hiding, but seriously. Resting. Eating. The guys carried the babes.
I was so in.
Siobhan grinned. “Yeah. The little things are kinda cute. Then I was going to meet Trent at the Quail to study. Want to come to that, too? I figure we always have something we can be studying.”
I almost had to take a step back.
The Quail was the name of the campus pub, the one that I first thought was the only one on campus. Small. Cozy. I liked it immediately, but I hadn’t known the name. The Quail seemed fitting for some reason, and also, I raised an eyebrow. “Trent?”
Her face went from a blush red to lobster red. She picked at her doorframe, her eyes jutting away. “Yeah. I mean. We’re friends. He’s a good guy.”
“That’s the guy in our genetics class? The cute blond you sit by?”
I hadn’t thought it was possible, but her face was getting even redder.
I couldn’t stop myself from teasing. “The guy who looks like a six-foot-one model? Who wears glasses, but he has high cheekbones and he could be the definition of a gorgeous nerd? That Trent?”
She was eyeing the air like she wanted a black hole to open up and she could step through it. “Yeah. Him.”
I was starting to feel bad. “I’m just teasing. You know the guy is into you, right?”
Her eyes swung to mine. “You think he is?”
I nodded. “My knowledge might not be vast, but I can’t imagine a guy meeting a girl in a bar, on a Saturday night, wanting to study, unless he also wants to get in her pants.”
Her eyes bulged out at that one. Her mouth puckered. Her lips moved, but no sound came. Then, quietly, “You think so?”
It was like basic math. I only smiled softly. “I’m pretty sure. I thought he was your boyfriend.”
“Oh my God.”
“Whad’s going on over thrd?” Emily yelled from the couch.
The slurring had commenced.
“You’re going to have fun tonight with that one.” From me.
“Hey.” Her tone got serious. Her eyes went past mine, and I was pretty certain it wasn’t on her roommate, but instead lingering on the patio. “From before. Are you okay?”
I shrugged that off.
The anger and resentment and all that annoying stuff was locked up tight. It was just carefree me who enjoyed teasing a new friend. I could do these next two years like this. Nothing would get in and hurt me that way.
“It’s nothing. Just someone from back home.”
“An old boyfriend?”
I could almost hear Stone’s growl again. It would’ve been erupting at volcanic decibel levels at hearing that from her.
I swallowed over a lump. “No. Just—family stuff.”
“Oh.” Why did her smile turn sad after that? That wasn’t my intention. “Okay, but I know you’re new here and I don’t have a lot of friends myself, so I’m here. For anything. You know?”
I knew. And I reached forward on an impulse, giving her a hug.
She hugged me back, surprised at first, then clasped me back.
“See you tomorrow then?” I stepped into the hallway.
She nodded. “Yeah. I usually go around nine in the morning. Is that too early?”
I had an empty house and I was usually knocked out by midnight. “I’ll probably already be up for an hour before that, so it’s perfect.”
“Okay. I’ll text you where to meet me? Or I can pick you up?”
Oh, shoot.
Would she recognize the party house for who lived there? I didn’t think I was going out on a limb to worry about how Siobhan would think of my roommates. People like them and people like us didn’t mix, not if we had a healthy self-preservation instinct.
My smile was tight. “I’ll meet you there. And then if you really want a tagalong tomorrow night, I’ll come, too, but only if you want a remora fish to tag along.”
She laughed. “Okay. Sounds good. Though, that makes me the shark?”
I began to walk down the hallway. “We can figure that out tomorrow.” I waved.
“Okay. See you. I’ll text you in the morning.” She waved back.
The house was dark when I got back, but for some reason it felt right to me. It was peaceful. And when I slid into bed, I was more than a little excited to see some seahorses in the morning.
Then a text came through, and I rolled over, grabbing it.
Unknown: This shit has to stop.
Unknown: image attached
I sat up, dread sinking low in my gut, and I clicked the image. It was a screen shot.
Gail: We know what your family did to mine. If your son doesn’t reach out and make things right with my daughter, I’m going to the press. We have nothing to lose now, but you do, and your son does. How do you feel about that, Barb?
I cursed. Even typing a threatening and crazy text and my stepmother was using perfect grammar. There had to be a joke in there.
I hadn’t put Stone’s number in my phone, but I knew it was him, and I hit the call button.
He answered with, “Call off your crazy stepmom. We will sue. And I don’t know what the fuck your stepmom is talking about, but my family did nothing to yours.”
A surge of fury was rolling in my belly, but I waited. I counted to ten, and then I said through gritted teeth, “One. That’s not true. Two. I will call her, but not because you’re telling me to. Three. I also don’t know where she’s getting this idea from because trust me, dealing with you is the last thing I want.” After a beat. I clipped out, “Do me a favor? Lose my number.”
I hung up on him. Again. And it felt damn good.
