Chapter 2 #2
She picks the worst time to turn the music down—as I'm white-knuckling the steering wheel across the bridge to the mainland.
"Saige?"
"What?"
"Where's your head at?"
"Mostly just focusing on not flying off and into the abyss."
"That still bothers you, huh?"
"That's how phobias work, yes."
"You'll try…you'll try your best, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you were an honors student in Vancouver. You barely passed enough classes to graduate from Aurora Cove. And these friends you've been hanging out with for the past year, Saige…"
"Can this wait until we're above land, please?"
"I don't know who you are anymore. I never know where you are. You don't answer your phone; when you are home, you don't come out of your room. You had a hard time making friends at that school, and you blame me, and I know that—"
"Pfft, yeah. That's what it was—just a little bit of difficulty making friends." We finally hit the end of the bridge, and I exhale slowly, wiping sweat from my brow with a shaky hand.
"I am so sorry that I ruined your life," she says, choking on the words. "But I am trying to help you now. You get to try again. Just…make new friends. Make better ones. Try to find something that excites you again. I haven't seen you excited about anything in a really long time."
"I'm excited to get the fuck out of this car."
"You used to write poetry," she continues, ignoring my comment. "You could take a poetry class…they might even have a poetry club—"
"Mom, I don't want to write poetry. That was just…stupid kid shit; none of it mattered. Besides, the world is…callous and shallow. It doesn't deserve poetry."
"That almost sounds poetic."
I scoff before I see the tears in her eyes—that's not something I want to deal with. "I will try, though. I'll try to pass my classes. I can't make any promises about the friends and, umm…definitely not the poetry club. But I won't do any serious crimes, and I won't flunk out."
I reach over and turn up the volume before she can reply, but I catch her small, satisfied smile in the rearview mirror.
I can't decide whether I hate it or not.
The rest of the ninety-minute drive is quiet.
Campus is crowded, but we finally find a loading spot near my building and get everything into my room.
To my surprise, I'm on the first floor and in a single unit.
My mom explains that she and Alex thought a single would be good for me—that it would help me focus.
And while I'm sure that's mostly true, I also know they're both more than aware of how difficult I am to get along with now.
With a ferry to catch, she doesn't stay long. I take her to the bus stop and then leave my car in its designated parking spot in the garage and head back to the residence hall.
There's some kind of meet and greet in the main lobby, but I don't stay for it. Generally, I'm disinterested in meeting anyone. I'm definitely not interested in greeting.
After a couple of hours of unpacking and Netflix, the pizza I ordered arrives. And on my way back to the room, another girl stops me.
"Hey," she says. "I'm Kira. And if you bring that pizza in here, I'll share my tequila with you and we can go to a glow party."
My mom did tell me to make friends—specifically, better friends than the ones I have now. This one is already proving herself generous by offering to share her tequila. That's a quality people look for in friends, right?
I shrug. "Okay."
About an hour later, the two of us are dancing in the basement of a crowded house party with a couple of plastic cups filled with warm keg beer.
It's dark, which I'm thankful for. I'm pretty sure my makeup is running down my face right now, and the pink hearts I drew on my chest with Kira's glow paint are melting down the front of my low-cut top.
I throw back the rest of my beer and then lean into Kira, shouting, "I'm going to go find a bathroom!"
She nods, taking my cup from my hand. "I'll get us more beer!"
I stand in line at a bathroom on the second story of the house for about ten minutes before finally making my way back toward the basement.
On my way down, my horny drunk self fixates on a tall, dark, and handsome half-naked man going the other direction—the paint on his upper body and on his chiseled abs glowing against brown skin under the black lights.
A phone number written across his stomach, just above his waistband, catches my eye before I look up and realize who I'm eye-fucking.
It's Dax. God fucking damn it.
I almost throw up in my mouth.
I quickly look away, my heart plummeting into my stomach. He doesn't seem to notice me, thankfully, but if he's here, then there's a very good chance Elias is here, too.
I scan the basement for Kira before I hit the bottom of the staircase and spot her leaning against a support beam.
She's holding both of our cups, smiling while talking to Elias, who's flanked by his quieter, creepier friend from high school, Nolan.
Steeling my spine, I push my way through the crowd and grab her by the arm.
I think I'm going to be sick.
I was supposed to be a number. I should be able to get lost on this campus; I figured it would be months before I ever ran into Elias. Yet here we are on my first day, somehow in the exact same, very small space.
"Hey," I say. "Come on, let's go. Don't talk to him."
"Aw, Jesus Christ. Who let you in here?" Elias bemoans. "I'm going to have a talk with Jordan. We like sluts at these parties, not dirty, infected gutter whores."
"Please, Kira…" I say, my eyes surely conveying the desperation I feel.
Kira looks between the two of us for a second before saying, "Yeah, and you know what? Fuck you, dude."
I'm so relieved when she hands me my beer and takes my hand, losing him in the sea of our sweaty peers, that I could fucking cry. I know I said he couldn't hurt me anymore, but that doesn't mean I want him to take my first friend away from me just hours after I get to campus.
"Who was that, anyway?" she asks. "An ex?"
I shake my head. "God, no. Elias is not my ex. He's my brother…unfortunately."
Her eyes go wide. "Your brother talks to you like that?"
"Elias Thorpe is your brother?" another man asks.
"He's my stepbrother," I tell them both. "And he's a fucking nightmare, okay? Stay away from him and his creepy ass friend who wears long sleeves and pants all summer, and if you met a guy with tattoos, dark curly hair, and his shirt off like a douchebag, stay away from him, too."
Kira frowns. "Oh…I did meet that guy. He was pretty. He asked me to write my phone number on his pecs. Too bad—he seemed fun."
Of course he did. I roll my eyes. Dax isn't fun.
He's a spoiled rich kid whose family practically owns Aurora Cove, and for that, everyone falls at his feet the same way they do with Elias.
He's got this massive social media presence, too, and all of these ridiculous branding deals, which, from what I've overheard, his parents don't really appreciate.
Paid collabs for shotgunning beer doesn't really fit the Hawthorne brand.
But unlike Elias and Nolan, he can be charming, and he uses it to get whatever he wants. I've witnessed it, though I've never been on the receiving end of anything but his cruelty.
"Yeah, he's not fun. And if he calls you, don't answer it. They're all fucking deranged."
She purses her lips. "That could be fun."
"I don't mean it in a fun way—I mean it in a life way. They're mad because they peaked in high school, and so they want to make everyone else's lives just as terrible."
"Relax," she says, placing her hands on my shoulders. "I'm just kidding. There are like…twenty thousand other guys on this campus, and we're practically best friends now. Of course, I'll stay away from those three."
"I fucking hate that guy," the man beside me says. I hadn't paid attention to him when he spoke up before, but I do now. I follow his eyes to where Elias stands and can see he's seething. "One of these fucking days…"
He doesn't finish the sentence, but I can imagine. I'd love to have one of these days with Elias, too.
And he's tall with dark hair and pretty eyes—older than me, for sure, but not too old.
Like I said, I'm a horny drunk.
"I understand the sentiment," I say. "I'm Saige. It's my first year. I like your beard, and I hate my brother."
"I'm Miles," he says. "I like my beard and hate your brother, too."
"We have so much in common!" I shout over the music.
Fortunately, I don't see Elias or his friends again, though I can't stop looking for them.
I can't shake the feeling that I got off too easy earlier, and that he's planning something else.
He's never just let me walk away before.
But maybe he's different here. Maybe he has a whole ass life here, and torturing me falls much lower on his list of priorities than it has in the past.
Maybe he's even worried the people here wouldn't let him get away with it. This isn't his small pond.
We dance for a while longer, and Miles and I talk a little more.
He's got that dark sense of humor I like, and since I feel like an entire tragedy on the best day, it sucks me right in.
It isn't long before dancing turns into kissing, and that kissing turns into the kind of touching that wouldn't be okay if there were just a little more light in the space.
He tells me he's a grad student, and that his place is just off campus, but it isn't far, if I want to come back with him.
So, when it's clear that Kira is too drunk, and it's time to take her home, Miles walks with us, waiting for me outside while I get her safely back to her room.
"She's all tucked in," I tell him, stumbling down the stairs of my residence hall and onto the sidewalk. "Shit!"
"Careful, there," Miles says, scooping me up and tossing me over his shoulder.