Chapter 2—Ruby
“You free after class to do some more apartment hunting?” I ask Natalie as I take the seat next to her.
We rarely have classes together, but we were both either dumb or smart and signed up for summer classes.
I still say dumb because we chose more school over going to the beach.
Of course, the beach is like a zillion miles away from us since we live in mid-central USA, but we could have done the drive in a day or two.
Then we could have lived on the beach as tent bums for a month.
Okay, that sounds worse than summer school. Maybe smart is the better term.
“Yeah. I was just planning on going to the Coffee Shack to study. Probably better if we find a place to live rather than eat my weight in pastries.”
I snort at that. Nat weighs less than a buck fifty on a day after binge eating.
She’s one of those types that has a crazy metabolism.
If she were into bulking up and going into weightlifting competitions, I think it would be the only way she’d actually gain some weight.
But while she has no issues eating—or not eating, depending on her mood—working out is almost against her religion.
Or that’s what I assume. Anytime I offer her the chance to be my running buddy, she turns me down.
Her loss. I’m a fantastic workout friend.
Sure, I yell the whole time that it’s stupid we’re doing it, sort of like school in the summer, but we get through it.
And I fully believe that if you yell, you burn more calories than if you just silently do the workouts.
Nat got stuck with me—and I do mean stuck—in freshman year.
We were both slotted to live on campus, and while my dad footed the bill to get me a nice dorm, I still had to share it.
Part of the campus rules. And there were only four options available.
One had no AC, two were coed, and the last was girls only.
Want to guess what my dad made sure I had?
Yeah, all girls. Scary Stary is what we called Stary Hall.
That much PMS in one building is never a good idea.
Nat opted for the cheapest and chose the no-AC unit.
We would have never met if it weren’t for the dean deciding no-AC buildings were from the 1700s and shut them down.
And they did it one week before school started.
They’ve only got half a brain, in my opinion.
Saw the lack of air-conditioning as wrong but couldn’t figure out what to do till the last minute.
So they just moved everyone into rooms that were already booked, changing occupancies from two to three.
Not sure how that passed the building codes, but someone approved it.
That’s how Nat and I became roommates on day one.
We had another girl—I don’t even remember her name—who came in, saw us, and walked out.
I heard later that her parents just bought her a condo so she wouldn’t have to live with “strangers.” Which totally defeats the whole “get to know people” aspect of college, but whatever.
Oh, and I’m sure me saying, “Hi, bitch,” when she showed up was also another point against me. Nat didn’t seem to have an issue with it, but that’s why she’s still around and the other one isn’t.
We quickly found out that we had no connection in classes, other than a few basic courses, but what we did have was the need not to pry.
I had a few of the brothers drop things off, and other than a smile here and a wave there, she didn’t even look at them twice.
Which gave her major points in my eyes. Back in high school, I had to run off more wannabe friends than not just because they wanted to be close to one of the guys and thought I was their meal ticket to get there.
Nat has never been like that. She’s quiet.
Not shy, but not one to fill the space. Sometimes I feel like she’s hiding parts of herself, but then again, so am I.
Dad wasn’t keen on my going to college so far away, but he was better knowing I was living on campus, with everything within walking distance and a no-boys-after-ten dormitory rule.
Now that we’re both about to be juniors, our time is up.
School rules. And Dad is taking it the hardest.
Whatever. Dads are weird. Nat just gives me a smile every time I complain about it.
I try not to do much of it around her. She has no one.
She was in foster care till she aged out.
Lucky for her, her grades were good enough that she got a full ride here from Florida.
Not sure why you would want to leave the beaches for this place, but she always says it’s peaceful around here.
I think she’s nuts. But I still like her.
Which is why I love college so much. The two of us?
Never would our worlds have crossed if it weren’t for college.
We come from completely different backgrounds.
I have a giant family, even if it’s not all by blood, and she’s all alone.
I’m going into physical therapy, and she’s undecided. Hell, we don’t even dress the same.
Her style is conservative to modest on a good day.
Jeans are a key aspect of her wardrobe, plus a knitted sweater most of the time or just a plain T-shirt with some saying on it.
Her most unique feature is her hair. Midnight black and down to her ass.
If she were on the back of a bike, I wonder if it would get wrapped up in the exhaust or tire.
Hell, it could whip around and blind the biker, and they’d end up bloody and in a ditch.
As for me? I might look like a badass biker bitch with the leather, tight clothes, and even my hair gets looks sometimes, but I’m nice-ish.
Well, I’m nice when they’re nice back. But I know why I get the looks and lip curls from those who don’t know me.
Black hair mixed with pink-and-red braids ain’t a look for everyone, but I like it.
And fuck you to whoever thinks they can tell me what I do and don’t like.
Night and day is what we are, and about to be homeless as well. I open the school paper and take a gander through it just as the professor shuts the door. And from the stack of papers he’s holding, I know today is going to be a long-ass class.
I don’t even control my groan when he pulls up the PowerPoint and I see he’s slotted seventy-eight slides for today’s lecture.
Looks like I won’t be secretly checking out homes in the back row like I planned.
I could slump it and take Nat’s notes, but I swore I would never do that.
I’m not the cheating kind. And yeah, I think taking notes from someone else in class is cheating.
If you’re there, your notes are on you. You ain’t there?
Well, you only get the notes if you’re sick or for family emergencies.
Having a hangover from the night before doesn’t count either.
Something I was mad about a few months back when I was very tempted to break my rule.
But I didn’t. Despite what people think, I’ve got my rules.
Dad instilled some, but mostly it’s me. And rule number one is don’t flunk out of college.
One, because I’m not the repeat type of girl when I flunk a class.
Don’t want to do that. And two, I owe it to Mom in heaven to give it my all.
She might not be here to see me graduate, but I will damn well make her proud as she watches over me.
And I know she is. Who else is telling me I need to buy more shoes?
She always had a closet shoe addiction. And if it’s not her, that means I’ve got a problem, and I refuse to admit it.
“That place should come with a hazmat suit if you sign a lease with them,” Nat says with a shudder, and I agree.
“I think we might have to opt for a place that comes with a kitchen. I know it’s more than we want to spend, but I don’t think I can take seeing another microwave and hot plate combo.
” We’re trying to keep the rent low. Mostly for Nat’s sake.
Sure, I’ve got a number I want to stay under, too, because despite what some think, I don’t enjoy taking money from Dad.
He earned his money, and I want to as well.
Of course, I wasn’t against his philosophy that he’ll cover room and board if I keep my grades up.
Nat has a job at the school library. Part of her scholarship deal—room and board stipend with a full ride if she works on campus.
So far, she hasn’t had any issues with it, but I know she isn’t willing to up the budget.
It either means I take on more of the rent or she gets another job.
And I really don’t want her to do that just because I can’t live with rat poop on my hot plate.
I chance a glance at her as we walk back to my car parked down the street. This place is in town and has zero parking close. Another drawback.
“At the very least, a decent parking spot.” Her mumbled response has me tripping over my feet for a second, laughing in surprise.
“Exactly. So, you in? I take on more of the rent, and we look for nicer places?” No reason to beat around the bush.
I want her to know that while we might not be close, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be.
It’s easier to keep her out of the know sometimes, but I still want her around.
Plus, breaking in a new friend takes too much work.
She shrugs.
“How about I buy you a coffee and we talk it over?”
She turns her head and raises a single eyebrow. “Throw in a muffin and you’re on.”
I grin with a nod and turn toward my car, only to groan when I see the truck that was blocking my view of it parallel parked up the street pull away, revealing a motorcycle parked right behind me.
“Shit.”
“Problem?” Nat asks as she looks around.
I tip my chin toward what’s about to be a headache. “Just an asshole.” Sometimes keeping Nat away from the club is a problem. She doesn’t know when someone is a giant jerk compared to the others.
“Ex of yours? Want me to get rid of him?”
Seriously? This girl is shyness personified till she isn’t, and then something like that slips out of her mouth.
Color me pink with shock when she even quickens her pace a bit and steps in front of me, either to block the guy’s view of me or to protect me.
Whatever it is, it ain’t normal. And especially not from a girl.
Women rarely do that kind of thing unless they’re family.
Boys? Well, men—boys don’t do shit but play with their joysticks.
But men step up sometimes. If one does for me, it’s because something serious is going on in the club, or the guy thinks it will score him points with my dad.
Usually it just pisses me off, but right now, I’m too confused by Nat’s actions to do more than just walk in her shadow till we get to my car.
“What do you want, Koop?” I ask as we get close to where he’s leaning against his bike.
“Who says I want anything?”
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. So spit it out and be on your way. Don’t got time to deal with your sorry ass today.”
“Mouthy one, aren’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “You just now getting that? Figured you were smarter than that. Been here over four years now. You should do better at learning shit. Maybe my old man is going lax in the recruiting bit. I’ll be sure to tell him to get someone who can spell IQ next time.”
I unlock the doors to my car and open the passenger door to let Nat in, but she doesn’t budge. She doesn’t look scared, just assessing everything. Just like Kooper. He’s eyeing her like she’s a puzzle he’s about to solve. Once he’s figured out whatever he wants, his attention turns back to me.
“Your dad put me on babysitting duty.”
“Seriously?” My hand holding the car door open falls to my side. Can we just stop with all the shocking shit today? I’ve never been off my game so much in my life. It’s one thing after another.
He pulls a cigarette from his vest pocket and lights it before nodding. “Yup.”
I cross my arms. “Next you going to tell me you’re moving in with me and I have a curfew or some shit?”
He shakes his head as he blows out some smoke.
“Nah, don’t got time for all that. I’ll do the job, but I don’t believe in playing games.
Your dad wants me to watch you, so I will.
Do me a favor and don’t try to avoid me and shit.
You see me, you acknowledge it. You stick to the rules, and we can all get through this with minimal issues. ”
“And the rules are?” It’s Nat who speaks. All I do is glare.
Kooper shrugs and takes another drag of his cigarette. “Shared location on her phone. Gives me a rundown on her normal routine. No sleepovers or trips without approval first.”
“Seriously?” I wave my hands. “I’m not five fucking years old.”
“Could have fooled me.”
My mouth drops open. I’ve never been talked to like this before. Ever.
He stands upright before straddling his bike and starting it up.
“If you could do shit on your own, you think I’d be here?
Think about it. Text me when you find a place, and I’ll check it out.
” And then the asshole drives away, and I’m left there with the door still wide open and my mouth on the fucking ground.
I slam the door and then go to my side, dropping into the driver’s seat with a huff. I hit the steering wheel five times and then shake out my frustration as Nat gets into the car and watches me work through a tantrum. Just like a five-year-old.
I glare at my reflection in the mirror, but it doesn’t do much more than stare right back at me.
“Is your dad in a gang?”
I deflate at her words and grab the steering wheel with both hands before I close my eyes and put my head against it.
“It’s a club. They call it a motorcycle club.
He’s the president and overprotective, but I love him.
” I take a deep breath and turn my head just enough to see her without moving it from resting against the fabric-covered wheel. “That going to be a problem?”
We’ve never talked about this before. For two years, she’s seen a few brothers come and go, but we never spoke about the details.
“They going to be living with us?”
I shake my head.
She grabs the seat belt and buckles up, then looks straight ahead. “Good. Because if they did, we’d need a bigger place.”
She side-eyes me and gives me a small smile.
One that has me breathing steadier and sitting up straight too.
I start the car and pull into traffic, heading to my favorite coffee shop near campus.
I have no clue what I’d do without Nat. I like her.
And that she can deal with the club is a win in my book.