4. Winnie
“Where is the party?” Elijah doesn’t bother looking away from his game, and he knows how much that pisses me off.
“I don’t know. One of the dormitories on campus. It’s a freshman thing, Elijah. Not a rager.”
“You underestimate freshmen and alcohol.” Finally, his brown eyes snap my way. “But fine. You got your pepper spray?”
“Yes.” That was my moving-in gift from him—pepper spray. Ever since Dad died, he’s taken over his role of head of the family, but unfortunately, he acts more like my dad than my brother anymore.
“Okay. Call if you need a ride.”
I pull my phone out and hover over my mom’s name. After our dad’s accident, she got a little… protective. She never said I couldn’t do things, but I could see her anxiety when I asked to go anywhere. It wasn’t often, since I never really made any friends, but seeing how distraught my mom would get was enough to keep me home even if I was the most popular person at school. I don’t know if telling her about the party would be a good thing or not. I debate for a little while longer, then decide against it. I don’t need her worrying about me all night long. Me not being at home is already hard enough. She’s called me seven times since I got into town three days ago. That doesn’t count the five times I’ve called her, either.
“You didn’t have to come, Elijah. I’m a big girl, you know?”
He hasn’t lost his scowl since I told him the address of the party and he said he was coming. He’s always scowling, but it’s worse now for whatever reason.
I tried telling him it was a freshman thing, and since he’s a junior, he definitely shouldn’t come. But he insisted, and once Elijah sets his mind to something, there’s no changing it. Now I’m going to be the weird girl who brings her big brother to parties. Great.
I climb out of the Bronco and stare up at the building in front of me, my excitement growing now that I’m here. I had always hoped I would make friends in college, like the kind who would stand in my wedding. I’m not off to a great start after seeing Reese and Zoey this morning, but surely there are some decent people somewhere on campus. Like, maybe the girl that invited me in the first place. Although, I’m still not sure how she got my number.
This red-brick building is three times the size of the other dormitories around. I never got to tour the dorms since I always planned on living with Elijah until he graduated, saving myself from paying the room and board fee.
“These are the freshman dorms?” Looking around, maybe I should have toured. The decadent oak flooring and original crown molding in the entryway are impressive.
Elijah presses the elevator button. “No, these are the athletic dorms.”
“Why would a freshman mixer be here?”
Elijah slams a finger into the four button, even though I didn’t tell him which floor. He’s right, though.
“I have a feeling I know why.”
He doesn’t say anything more, and I don’t ask, because he’s radiating anger, and I’m not interested in receiving the blunt end of it.
The elevators open, and immediately, loud music fills the hallway. I don’t know where it’s coming from exactly, and suddenly I can’t remember the dorm number, but apparently Elijah knows. I should be more concerned about how, but I’m too busy taking everything in around me. Several doors are open, allowing us to see inside the rooms. People congregate in the hallway, red solo cups in their hands and sloppy smiles on their faces. It’s not even nine, but I guess this is a party. There are going to be drunk people.
Despite the hallway being crowded, everyone seems to part for Elijah and me. I know my brother is intimidating, but it’s hard for me to see him as the broody guy in front of me now and not the thirteen-year-old who used to play Guitar Hero and put on an entire performance during his turn.
Sometimes I really miss his smile. I get it; losing our dad is hopefully the hardest thing I’ll ever have to go through, but it didn’t change me the way it did Elijah. I try not to take life for granted and live it how I know Dad would want me to. Elijah, on the other hand, completely shut down. It was like I lost my brother the same day I lost my dad. He’s here, but it’s not the same.
He turns into one of the doors, and I rush in after. But he’s bigger, tougher, and apparently more intimidating than me because the crowd is even thicker in here, and they don’t part for me like they do him. I end up squished between several people. Sweat, beer, and overpowering cologne assault my nose, and I pray the smells don’t sink into my clothes.
One of the guys leans back, and in order to get out of his way, I push into the girl next to me.
“I’m sorry,” I shout, hoping she can hear me over the noise. Whoever picked this music needs to reevaluate their taste.
The bouncy blonde turns, and her smile grows even bigger. “You must be Winnie! I’m Emma.” She smiles and points to the nervous-looking girl next to her. “This is Laney.”
What are the odds the first girl I bump into is the girl who invited me?
“Oh! Hey. This is quite the freshman orientation.” I peer at her skeptically, letting her know I know she’s full of shit. I’m not mad, though, and with Elijah not being up my ass right now, I’m hoping I can relax and have fun.
“Sorry about that.” The smell of alcohol is heavy on her breath as she leans toward me. “He didn’t give me great instructions, and I panicked on the spot. I’m not a great liar!”
Wait, did she say he? Who is he, and why did she need to lie for him?
I don’t get any of my questions asked or answered before a huge guy steps behind her. I wonder for a quick second if it’s her boyfriend, but they look way too similar to be anything but siblings. I’m going to believe they aren’t both.
“Winnie?” he questions, his deep voice booming over the music.
“Uh, yeah. You know my name?”
His shoulders relax, and his harsh face softens into a half smirk. “I think everyone here knows your name.”
“Why’s that?”
He leans closer, totally invading my space, but instead of smelling like alcohol, he smells pleasantly like mint. Plus, he’s ridiculously hot. “Reese has made sure everyone knows the little redhead, Winnie Lewis, is off-limits.”
Shock hits me like a truck, nearly making my eyes pop out of my head. “What?” I screech.
He laughs and pulls back, shrugging. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
I don’t get another word in before someone yells, “Fight.”
Emma dashes away, pulling her friend along with her, eager to see the so-called fight. And her brother—whose name I still don’t know—scowls and follows after her, even though at his size, he can probably see clear over the crowd. I push my way through people, following after them until I’m in the front.
Then my stomach drops.
“Stay the fuck away from my sister.”
Elijah shoves Reese, and he stumbles more than he should. Elijah and Reese are about the same size, but Reese is staggering and his moves are sloppy, meaning he’s probably drunk. Why are they fighting in the first place? And why is Elijah bringing me into it?
Reese stumbles forward, right in Elijah’s face, and gives him that same smirk that was directed at me earlier. “You’re a little late for that warning.” His laugh is mocking, and my stomach twists knowing whatever comes out next is going to make me hate him if I don’t already. “Like two years too late.”
I gasp and throw a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late. Elijah shoots a look in my direction, having heard me since the music has cut out, people probably wanting to hear what the two idiots in the middle of the room have to say.
“Eli, let me ex—“
He whirls around and throws his fist, but Reese is looking at me and fails to block the punch from connecting with his jaw. With a loud thud, he drops to the floor like a bag of bricks. A few more guys—bigger guys—move in on Elijah, but he doesn’t back down. I’m guessing the guys are teammates of Reese’s; they look like hockey players, not to be too stereotypical. That big guy from earlier stays back to help Reese up but isn’t shy about his hatred for my brother, aiming a glare in his direction.
I run over, stopping next to my brother while praying these guys are above hitting girls. Normally when Elijah fights, I stay out of it, and even though I know he’s tough, I’m guessing Reese has more friends than he does. And as much as my brother is a pain, I don’t feel like having to visit him in the hospital—or jail. The big guy gives up on trying to get Reese up and moves in between the standoff, holding up each hand in a different direction.
“He deserved that.” Is he talking about Reese? “Imagine if someone talked about your sister like that.”
That seems to level two of the guys, their heated eyes finding me, then dragging over to Eli. Their jaws tense, but they walk away.
The third guy isn’t as easy to convince, but eventually, the big guy is able to talk him down too, and then he turns to face us.
“Elijah. Always a pleasure.”
“Fuck off, Sawyer.”
Elijah shoves by me, only stopping for a beat to show his disappointment. It’s heavy, and I hate the feeling curdling deep in my stomach.
Embarrassment, hurt, and anger all take their turns ripping through me like a dull knife. I don’t want to go after him, because I don’t know what I would say. I can’t deny it; Elijah knows when I’m lying, and I’m not ready to admit everything to him just yet. I don’t know if I thought I could keep that night between me and Reese from him forever, but I definitely am not ready to deal with it now. Maybe I thought he would find out at one point, but Reese and I would be happy and in a relationship, and he would be forced to get over it. We couldn’t be further from that place right now.
I turn my attention to the pathetic man groaning on the floor, having not yet found his balance to stand. Wiping away whatever angry tears fell, I step in front of him. The shirtless guy trying and failing to help him up lifts his head just enough to look at me through his round-framed glasses. He uses his middle finger to push them up, and I don’t know if that was meant for me or if he always does that, but it’s not like I’m the bad guy here, so he can kick rocks for all I care.
“Get up, Reese.”
His head whips up, and he has the audacity to smile at me like I hang the stars. If I didn’t think he was drunk before, I know for sure now. His jaw is swollen, but his eyes are dilated, and I’m not sure if he’s really looking at me or through me.
“You came.”
“Tricking me into attending your party? Stating I’m off-limits?”
He takes his time climbing to his feet, stumbling and swaying the whole time. The guy holding him doesn’t let go, and it’s a good thing because if he did, I’m convinced Reese would fall on his face.
“You are, baby.”
My shoulders tense hearing baby from his lips. The same term of endearment he grunted in my ear that night. Memories threaten to flash through my head, but I don’t let them. “Don’t call me that.”
It’s not lost on me that we have an audience, and when he reaches for me, I take a step back. He whimpers like a puppy that was just denied a bone, and my anger surges. Growing up, I always saw Reese as untouchable. Even during those late nights on my roof when everything would catch up to him and he would cry, cursing his parents, his life, and anything and everything he could, he always felt invincible. A hard exterior protecting the charming insides not many got to see. Right now, I wonder where that man went. Because this pathetic, blubbering man saying things that aren’t even coherent isn’t the Reese I know. In fact, he’s reminding me a lot of his dad.
It wasn’t often, but on a few occasions, I would catch Mr. Larson on his knees, begging Reese’s mom for forgiveness. And that scares me because right now, his son looks exactly like him.
Not wanting to look at Reese any longer, I glance around the room at the various forms of shock written across so many faces, and it hits me. None of these people know my Reese. They know whatever version of him he has been fronting since he moved here—a version I have no interest in getting familiar with.
He falls onto his knees in front of me and wraps his long arms around my body, pressing his head against my pelvis. If I wasn’t so unbelievably turned off right now, I might’ve had flutters from having him so close after so long, but they couldn’t flap even if I wanted them to.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
He clings to me, and his weight tugs on my loose-legged pants. The material shifts before slipping over my ass and onto my thighs. I blow out a rushed breath, but I’m not able to get him off me no matter how much I struggle. Gripping the waist with everything I have, I urge them to not slip anymore. But he weighs close to double what I do, and when he slumps to the ground, my pants rip from my grip and go down with him.
I’m in shock, standing in front of a room full of people with both my pants and a drunk slob around my ankles. The same guy who was holding him rushes forward, as well as the big guy I think Elijah called Sawyer. It takes both of them to rip him off me so I’m able to pull my pants back up.
The embarrassment from before is nothing compared to how I’m feeling now that everyone saw my ass and thong. I guess I should be glad I wore underwear at all, but no, that’s not the point. The point is Reese Larson is an ass. Whatever tie I had to him before is completely gone.
I feel nothing—well, maybe disappointment, sadness, and hurt—when I look at him now. But no conflicted feelings other than those.
“I’m sorry, Winnie. He doesn’t usually—“ Sawyer says while the shirtless guy stares.
“Don’t apologize for him.”
Reese reaches for me again, but the guys hold him back, and he doesn’t like that at all.
“She wants me to touch her, don’t you, Pooh Bear?”
My eyes fly open hearing my childhood nickname from his mouth. He knows my dad was always the one to call me Pooh Bear, and ever since he passed, I’ve only heard it a few times from my mom. It was a special name between me and my dad, and he just spit it out like it was nothing.
“Just like old times,” he adds, slurring the words.
I wish I could smack that smirk off his face. My fist won’t do much damage, but I know where to hit a guy with as little or as much force as I want and drop them at any given moment. I pull my leg back and thrust it forward, right between his legs. The guys let go when he cries out, and he falls onto his face with his hands holding his aching dick.
“I wouldn’t want you to touch me again if you were the last man on earth.”
“You love me,” he shouts after me, his voice strangled.
I pause in front of the crowd and glance back, seeing him still rolling around and holding his dick. “Whatever I felt for you died the moment you threw that night in my brother’s face. All I see in you now is a—“ I bite my tongue only for a second because I know it’s going to crush him. But maybe Reese needs a wake-up call, and this will be it. “Younger version of Robert.”
Whatever alcohol he had in his system seems to disperse for a single moment of sobriety. So many bad emotions push to the surface, but I don’t stick around to see or hear anything else.
I don’t let the tears fall until I’m out of that room. People in the hall stare, but I don’t care. I back up against the wall, unable to support my weight any longer, and drop my head to my hands.
Someone touches my shoulder, and I jolt and pray it’s not Reese.
“Sorry, sorry.” Emma frowns. “I—we…” She looks behind her to Laney, Sawyer, and that shirtless guy.
“I had no idea Reese had it in him to act like that,” the shirtless guy mutters. “I’m Schmidt, by the way.”
“Schmidt?” A weak smile tugs on my lips. “That’s an odd name.”
He pushes his glasses up and chuckles. “It’s my last name.”
“Don’t bother asking his first,” Sawyer gruffs. “No one knows it.”
How do none of them know his first name? Whatever, not my business.
“Winnie.” I slip my hand into his, surprised at how soft it is.
“You can hang out still,” Emma offers. “Reese went to bed, so you won’t have to see him.”
“Thanks, but knowing that entire room just saw my ass makes me never want to step foot in there again.”
“Why? You have a great ass.”
Even though the last thing I feel like doing right now is laughing, it tumbles out of me anyway. Sawyer rests a hand on his sister’s shoulder and gives her a disapproving look.
“Er, thanks, but I just want to go home.” That’s not really true, though. I don’t want to deal with Elijah either.
“Yeah.” Sawyer scratches at the back of his neck. “You need a ride or anything?”
“Thanks, but I’m go—“
“Well, well, well. I didn’t think I would see little Winnie Lewis at a college party.”
This night just keeps getting worse. To my pleasure, no one else seems excited to hear Zoey’s voice either.
“Zoey, always a pleasure.” I take a step around her, but she grabs my arm, just like I saw her do to Reese outside the school all those years ago. I hated it then, and I hate it even more now.
She puffs her bright-pink bottom lip out into a fake pout. “I just got here! Let’s catch up. It’s been far too long.”
I’d rather eat dirt. “No, thanks.” I pull my hand away and step around her before she can grab me again. “Sorry if your boyfriend can’t get it up anymore, though. That’s my bad.”
I don’t look back, even though I really want to, and I don’t let out the breath I was holding until I’m in the safety of the elevator. I’m not a confrontational person, but Zoey has always brought out the worst in me.
What a great fucking start to freshman year.
I drop my head back, enjoying the silence before deciding I need to text Elijah. I can’t leave him here.
Me: I’m leaving. Where are you?
Eli:Just go home.
Me:Don’t you need a ride?
Eli:I’m not there anymore.
Me:So you left me at a party all by myself? What the hell, Eli?
Eli:Figured you were in the hands you wanted to be in.
Me:You don’t know anything.
Eli:Yeah, no shit, sis.
I groan and drop my head back, wishing the hard wall would knock some sense into me. Getting involved with Reese is not what I need. Not that I was aware I would be getting involved with him tonight. I knew he went to college here, but I’m not here for him. I’m here because they have a great photography program, and it’s where my brother is.
The door dings, and I wipe my face and suck in a deep breath. When I walk out of here, everything between Reese and me is done. He’s a junior, I’m a freshman. I don’t know what he’s going for, but whatever it is will probably be the complete opposite of my classes. The campus is big enough that I bet I won’t even see him around.
Everything is going to be fine. I’m going to kick ass in my classes, meet some real friends, and it’ll all be good.
How many times do I need to say that for me to actually believe it?