Chapter 6
Landon
“Bro, stop leaving your shit lying around.”
I’ve about had it with my roommate. Roger is an alright guy, but he’s a fucking slob, and I’ve had all I can take.
The only response I get is a muffled oomph from behind his closed bedroom door.
This is one college experience I could do without, but even on its worst days, it’s better than being at home with my mom.
Speaking of which, my mother has tried to call me three times today. I know if I don’t at least attempt to have a conversation with her, she’s going to lose her mind. At this point, I wouldn’t even put it past her to show up at my damn dorm.
I make my way back into my bedroom and shut the door behind me, breathing in the clean scent. After realizing how messy Roger was and how much his inability to clean up after himself would make the whole damn place smell, I bought a candle warmer. At least one room in this place smells good.
Sitting down on my bed with a sigh, I unlock my phone. And would you look at that, another missed call from Mom. Four for the day, and this time with a voicemail. What a treat for me.
When I tap the notification, her overly cheerful voice fills my ears.
“Hello, Landon. This is your mother.” I roll my eyes. As if the voice and the caller ID didn’t give her away. “I’m hoping you’re just busy with classes and not intentionally ignoring me. I’ve tried to call four times now. Anyway, call me back. I love you.”
Something about her tone grates on me, and I find myself frustrated as I tap on her name to call her back.
She answers on the first ring, and my irritation ratchets up. “Hello, Landon.”
“Hey, Mom.”
There’s a beat of silence, which is strange. You’d think since she called so many times, she’d have something more to say.
She lets out a heavy sigh. “I just wanted to let you know that I found a nice club for you to join.”
I can’t have heard her right. There’s no way she’s trying to police my extracurriculars. “Mom,” I interject, trying to cut her off.
Am I surprised when she goes on like I haven’t even spoken? No, I’m not.
“It’s a church group. They get together once a week for prayer and the gospel. It’s all kids your age. I think it would be good for you. I worry about you now that you’re on campus and not at home with me. Have you even been to church since you moved out?”
No. I haven’t. And I have no intention to go now either.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, Mom.” I sigh. “I haven’t gone to church, no.”
This time the silence is loaded with the weight of her disappointment. I can’t even imagine how much worse it would be if she knew why I hadn’t been going to church.
“Okay…” she says after a few minutes, pausing long enough after to let me know she’s unhappy with that. “That’s why this group is perfect for you. Please, at least try to go.”
Biting back a sigh, I nod. “Fine, I’ll check it out.”
I won’t, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
“Oh, that’s fantastic news. Well, okay, Landon. I love you, and I’ll talk to you later. Let me know how the first meeting goes, and stop ignoring my calls. I haven’t heard from you in so long.”
“I love you too,” I mumble, hanging up before she has a chance to go on.
As it is, I’m not going to church. Nor am I going to some church meeting with a bunch of other people. College was supposed to mean freedom. Not more of being under her thumb.
I drop back onto my bed, resting my head on my pillows, and stare up at the ceiling.
If there is a God, surely He doesn’t think there’s something wrong with me, right? There’s no way a fair and just God would want to punish or condemn me just for being who I am.
The worst part is, I could probably easily settle down and get married and have two and a half kids like my mom wants, but that feels like such a disservice to myself.
I owe it to myself to explore, to see what the way my heart trips over itself around Ben means.
Even if it’s not with Ben, I need to do something.
I can’t let the weight of my mother’s expectations drag me down forever, and I definitely can’t let the noose her God has tied around my neck hold me back from what I really want.
I’m dragging ass when I wake up for class. Sometimes it feels like college is for nothing. I don’t have major aspirations for myself. Not like Ben. Hell, when I found out his major, I felt wholly inadequate. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.
I try to go easy on myself because there’s really no reason not to. Living under my mother’s rule and not being able to be my own person affected my ability to have my own wants and needs.
It doesn’t matter that I’m twenty now. It’s time to figure out what I want and need for myself. No matter what that may look like.
When I throw on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt along with a football hoodie, I make my way into the living room. Roger’s sitting on our shared couch, looking as bleary-eyed as I imagine I do, but thankfully, he did clean up his mess.
When he notices me, he looks up. “Hey, man. Sorry about the mess.”
I shake my head because, really, there’s nothing to be done. He is who he is. “Thanks, dude. I appreciate it.”
He blinks at me before turning his head and looking back at the blank TV. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was high or something, and I guess maybe he could be.
Doesn’t really matter to me either way. I sit down on the end opposite him, then pull my shoes on.
“When does the season start?” Roger asks, glancing at me.
“Uh, the first game’s in three weeks.”
Roger, for all his faults, is normally quiet and self-contained, so I’m not at all surprised when he doesn’t say anything else, instead choosing to turn back to the TV.
Patting my thighs, I push to my feet, checking my pockets to make sure I have all my things. Phone, dorm key, wallet. I give Roger a wave that he half-ass returns, and leave.
I didn’t give myself as much time to get to class as I really wanted, so I’m running a few minutes behind as I round the corner to the coffee shop. Being a few minutes late is going to be infinitely better than falling asleep halfway through class, though.
I push open the door in a rush, hoping the line is short, and run smack into someone. “Damn, I’m sorr—”
My words cut off when I realize I’ve run right into the same guy from a few days ago. Only this time there are no art supplies, just coffee that’s spilled all over his white… dress. Oh. He’s wearing a dress.
Heat floods my stomach, and I can’t be sure if it’s embarrassment or something else. I don’t even get a chance to dwell on it because he looks down, his eyes widening, and then I’m being pinned to the door with a death glare.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he says, eyes flicking rapidly across my face. “Wait a second. You’re the same person as before. Why the fuck are you always running into me?”
“I wish I had a good answer for that. I’m sorry. Let me get you some napkins or something.”
He lets out a high-pitched, incredulous laugh. “Napkins? You think napkins are gonna get the job done?”
I glance at his soaking wet dress, averting my eyes quickly when I notice the coffee has soaked through and made it translucent, and I can barely make out what looks like a lacy bra-type thing underneath it.
Swallowing hard, I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths. “I really am so sorry.”
We’ve caught the attention of the rest of the people in the coffee shop, and it doesn’t take long for him to notice too. With a huff, he steps past me and storms right out the door.
I stare after him for a second, then chase after him, pulling my hoodie off as I go. “Wait! Hey, hang on.”
He turns around, his icy blue eyes locked on mine as he bares his teeth at me. “What now? You want to run into me again?”
I shake my head, holding my hoodie out to him.
His eyes fall to it, then he looks back up at me. “What’s this for?” There’s something soft in his voice now that wasn’t there before.
Clearing my throat, I thrust it at him, trying to get him to take it. “For you to wear. You’re covered in coffee. Please just take it.”
He reaches out warily, taking the hoodie from my grasp. For a second, I’m half convinced he’s going to throw it back at me, but I’m shocked as hell when his lips curve into a half smile and he pulls it over his head. It’s huge on him, falling almost to the length of his dress.
It ruffles his pale-blond hair, making it mussed and messy, and for some reason I can’t fully explain, I want to reach out and fix it. I take a quick step backward so my hand doesn’t get any stupid ideas, then clear my throat again. “Like I said, I’m really sorry.”
Blue eyes settle on mine. “It’s okay… But God, you really should start watching where you’re going.”
This time it’s far more playful and less angry, which makes me smile. “I’ll do my best.”
I hold a hand out. “I’m Landon.”
“I’m Parker.” He shakes my hand, then takes a step back. “I’m gonna be late for class. Fuck.”
“Me too,” I say for some stupid-ass reason.
He chuckles. “Can I get your number? I’ll wash this and get it back to you.”
My stomach does a little flip. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s just wanting to get your hoodie back to you. Calm down.
“Okay, sure.”
I rattle off my number, and a few seconds later, my pocket buzzes. “That’s mine,” he says, nodding toward my pocket. “I’ll shoot you a text when it’s clean. I have late classes tonight, but I should be able to get it cleaned soon.”
“Hey, no worries, man. No rush.”
His face scrunches up for a second, but then he smooths his features out. “Yeah, no worries, man. See ya around.”
It’s not until he’s halfway down the sidewalk that I realize I’m incredibly late to class and I didn’t get a damn coffee.