Chapter 9
Leni
By Monday afternoon, the university is buzzing with the soccer team’s second win, this one against another top rival. All anyone can talk about is whether they’ll make it three from three against Blue Haven University this weekend.
I try to block it out as I head to the library, not wanting to hear what a shame it is that Dylan refused to play under his father and enrolled at BHU instead of Beckford U. I, for one, am glad the arsehole tucked tail and ran.
I find Willow at one of the tables, staring at her music assignment with a glazed look. Sometimes, she drags me to her stepbrother’s games—her mother often insists she support Luca—and it still stirs up unwanted memories for me of sitting in the crowd watching Dylan in high school.
The things I do for my bestie. It’s worth it, though. I’d do anything for her, which is why I made her try Euphoria. She needed the confidence to find someone who wants what she has to offer.
Dropping my books onto the table, I slide into the seat beside her, grinning as she startles.
“Hey. Why are your cheeks so flushed?”
“They’re not,” she says, avoiding my gaze.
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Are you thinking about a certain sexy phantom?”
The red splotches spread down her neck, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head despite the shake of her head. She tries to deflect. “Have you heard from your mystery man?”
Her question sends me into a funk. “No.”
“Aw, I’m sorry.”
“It’s his loss. Plenty more dicks in the sea.” I’m thankful my voice remains light, despite the disappointment flooding my veins. I was really hoping he’d message me this weekend, but our Euphoria chat remains silent.
Willow scowls, and I’m about to tell her it’s not that bad when I follow her gaze to the front desk where her super-hot stepbrother has just entered with Theo, a couple of their teammates, and a group of Banshees. My best friend slams her book shut and pushes her glasses up her nose with a huff.
“Ugh! I came here to get away from the jerk. It’s so nice when he has away games and I get a reprieve from the silent treatment at home.
Do you have any idea what it’s like to be treated like a ghost in your own home?
I can’t wait to graduate in a couple of months and finally get away from him and his father. ”
“Just ignore him, babe,” I say, wanting to tell her I know exactly what it feels like, but not wanting to give her insight into just how bad things are at home. “Don’t give him the power.”
Luca’s ex-girlfriend gave her hell back in high school, and he did nothing to stop it. He doesn’t even glance our way as he passes, like we’re completely invisible. Arrogance at its finest.
Unfortunately, we’re not so lucky when Theo pauses. Revulsion ripples through me when he runs his sleazy gaze over my body.
“Red,” he says with a wink and a slimy smirk. “You ready to let me show you a good time?”
I roll my eyes, swallowing down my discomfort. “Dream on, arsehole. I’m not interested in STDs, thank you very much.”
He clutches his chest. “Ouch, you wound me.”
I shoot him a withering glare. “I’m sure you’ll live.”
“Aw, come on, Leni. We all know how much you gag for cock.” He mimes a blow job, and while I would usually just brush off his immature barbs, seeing him with Dylan the other day only makes the action sting more.
“Fuck off, Theo,” Willow snaps, surprising me. She usually avoids confrontation at all costs.
Theo isn’t fazed, though. He just smirks and blows me a kiss before hurrying off to catch up with Luca.
“Forget about him,” she says softly, her blue eyes full of pity. “He’s an arsehole.”
I force a smile, even though I know it won’t fool her.
She knows how I feel about interacting with any of Dylan’s old friends.
It’s why I avoid her house as much as possible.
“Whatever. This is why I don’t bother slumming it with the stupid, immature Beckford U boys. I need a real man to satisfy me.”
“Like a certain mystery man?” she teases with a small laugh.
“Exactly.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Now, don’t change the subject. Tell me more about this ‘fine’ night you had with the Phantom.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t call me out for changing the subject. “There’s nothing to tell. I don’t think I’m going to see him again.”
My eyes widen in concern. “Why? What did he do? Are you okay?”
Jeremy’s protection doesn’t only extend to me. He and Diego know to keep an eye on Willow as well. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her.
“Nothing,” she says with a sigh, packing her books into her bag. “I think it’s run its course, that’s all.”
I purse my lips. “Are you sure he didn’t—”
She puts her hand up to stop me. “Promise. He did nothing wrong. I just think I need to take a break from the club this month.”
“A break?” I shoot her a baffled look. “Girl, you finally found someone who’s into the same kink as you and you’re going to take a break? If he hurt you, we can tell Jeremy and get him kicked out.”
She shakes her head as she stands and swings her bag over her shoulder. “He didn’t hurt me. Can we please drop it for now?”
“Fine,” I say following her out of the library. “But you don’t have to decide right now. We still have a week before you need to make any drastic decisions.”
“Do you want to come over?” she asks, glancing through the library window where we can see her stepbrother and his friends sitting around one of the study tables. “Luca has training this afternoon, so he won’t be home for a couple of hours. We can binge Milo ice cream and true crime docos.”
I sigh. “As tempting as that is, Mum’s at the Beckford High charity drive meeting this afternoon, so I have to pick up my sisters from dance practice. Raincheck?”
“Sure, later.” She gives me a quick hug before heading towards her house, while I make my way to the student car park.
I spend the entire drive to Pulse dance studio wondering how I can help my best friend overcome her insecurities.
Nora and Esme come bounding out of their dance class full of energy and climb into the back seat of my car, immediately barking their demands at me.
“Can we go get ice cream?” Esme begs. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
“I have an assignment due,” I tell her. “Sorry.”
Nora pouts. “You suck.”
“Hey,” I scold, “kindness is free, you know.”
She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Whatever. Mum always takes us to get ice cream after dance.”
With one hand on the wheel, I massage my temple with the other. “Well, Mum isn’t here, and I told you I have an assignment to work on. You can’t get everything you ask for, Nora.”
I love my sisters. I really do, but there’s no denying they’re spoiled brats. It’s not their fault. They’ve been raised getting everything they want.
The two of them trade whispers in the backseat as I drive us home, and as soon as I pull up in front of the house, Esme throws the door open before I’ve even closed the gate, let alone turned off the ignition.
Nora bustles out after her and I groan when I notice they’ve left their bags for me to bring in.
“No worries,” I mutter, gathering their things, as well as my own, and trudging into the house like a fucking packhorse.
I dump their things by the front door with a sigh, hearing them down the hall in the kitchen. They’re no doubt making a mess, but I don’t give a damn. I did my job by picking them up, and I’m not their maid.
My phone buzzes with a notification, but I don’t check it. I really need to get my creative writing assignment finished.
My theatre classes don’t give me enough credits for my arts degree, so I signed up for a creative writing elective.
I’ve been writing poetry for myself since I was in high school, so it’s something I enjoy. It seemed like a no-brainer, an easy credit. Write some moody monologues, sprinkle in some poetic metaphors. I’m an actress; I tell stories for a living.
Only it hasn’t been that easy.
Professor Johnson isn’t impressed with my ‘surface-level drivel,’ as he put in his notes on my last piece. He wants ‘emotional authenticity’, whatever the fuck that means. He’s an assistant soccer coach. What does he know about emotional authenticity?
But my damn stubborn nature won’t let him, or this assignment, get the best of me.
Write about a moment that changed you.
I’ve written two hundred and fifty words about my dad leaving, but it feels impersonal and flat. There’s no heart. It sounds like the diary entry of a pissed-off teenager.
With a sigh, I delete the whole thing.
I drum my fingers on my desk as I stare at the blinking cursor on my screen.
A moment that changed me. Something real. Something authentic.
My chest tightens, and I force my thoughts not to go to Dylan. To what he did to me.
There’s no way I can put that into words.
I hesitate, my fingers poised over the keys. Surely there’s something else I can write about. Anything else.
A sharp knock on my bedroom door makes me jump. Before I can answer, it swings open, and I scowl at my mother standing in the doorway with a glass of wine, her grey eyes swirling like thunder.
“Why didn’t you take your sisters to get ice cream after dance?” she asks in her typical haughty tone.
I fight my eye roll. “Because I told them I have an assignment to finish.”
She huffs. “They were upset.”
“They’ll live,” I mutter, fighting to keep my cool.
Her eyes narrow. “I’ve had enough of your attitude.”
“I’m studying, Mum,” I snap. “What do you want from me? I picked them up from dance, and I brought them home like you asked. So they didn’t get their sugar high for one week. What’s the big deal?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You live here rent-free, and we’re paying your school fees. Of course we expect you to help with your sisters.”
Placing my hand on my forehead to stave off the headache building, I huff a sigh. “Mum, I don’t mind helping out with them, but I’m not their slave. They need to learn they won’t get their own way because they demand it. You’re raising them to be spoiled brats.”