The Hookup Situation (Colorado Springs University #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

JACKSON

Shit, I can’t believe it. I got the part! I’m so fucking giddy about playing the lead role in The Rocky Horror Picture Show that I’m grinning the entire way to my next class. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for the last couple of days waiting to see what part I got, if any, and I’ve wanted to play Dr. Frank-N-Furter since I was thirteen.

I send a text to my BFFs, Rory and Lucy, in our group chat. They know how much I’ve wanted this role, and they both helped me get ready for the audition.

Me: Gif of Frank-N-Furter. I got it!!!

Lucy: Omg!!!! Yes!!!

Rory: I knew you would nail it!

Lucy: We’re celebrating. My place. 7pm.

Me: See you then. Smiley face emoji

I still have a few minutes to spare before my Early Theater History class starts, so I decide to make a phone call. It’s an hour earlier in California but I’m sure my parents are awake. They both get up at the ass crack of dawn for work.

This isn’t my first theater production. Far from it. I’ve been acting on stage since middle school. But this is by far the part that means the most to me.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Oh, hey, honey.” There’s voices in the background and I assume she’s somewhere with a client. There’s rarely a time when she isn’t. As one of the top wedding planners in San Francisco she’s always on the go. “No, don’t put that there.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah, hey, Jackson, is everything okay?” she says, though I can tell she’s distracted. She always is. I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation with her where I actually had her full attention. I want to say I’m used to it, and that it doesn’t bother me, but I would be lying. I keep holding out hope that one day she’ll see me, and maybe that’s why I keep making these phone calls, and going home for breaks, even though I always wind up alone and disappointed.

“Yeah, Mom, I just wanted to tell you I got the part.” More voices in the background and what sounds like a door slamming shut.

“Oh, Christ, no. We need that table over there. Where are the centerpieces?”

“Great news, honey,” she murmurs, and I am pretty sure she didn’t even hear what I said, the words sounding like more of an afterthought than anything else.

I sigh. “Yeah, thanks, Mom.”

“Listen, Jax, it’s crazy here. I should go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

She ends the call and I shove my phone back in my pocket, my cheerful mood dampened. I don’t know what I was expecting because nothing ever changes. Nothing has changed since I was a kid. She and Dad have always been workaholics. I spent a lot of time home alone growing up since I didn’t have any siblings and all of our family lived far away. That’s where my love of theater started. I would make my own plays, and use my stuffed animals as characters or audience members, just so I could feel like someone was paying attention to me, that someone cared. I would dress up and make believe I was on some far away adventure. I spent countless hours in my room, singing, dancing, and creating.

My parents have always had money, so I never lacked for anything as a child. It didn’t take me long to realize that all the gifts they lavished on me were their way of trying to buy my affection or make up for not being around. Everyone thought I was the luckiest kid because I had a huge house with a giant bedroom, a pool, an outdoor movie theater setup in my backyard, and my own car as soon as I turned sixteen. I got name brand clothes and hundred dollar haircuts. I had everything, except the one thing I wanted, which was my parents' time and attention.

The kids at school loved coming over to my house because my parents were never there. They would tell me how cool it was that I got to be on my own so much and do whatever I wanted. But I would have given anything to just have Mom or Dad ask me about my day at school and actually listen when I told them. I would have loved for them to take me camping, or to a movie, or play a game with them some evening instead of spending all my time alone. Hell, I would have been elated if they had shown up to any of my performances. I think they made it to one or two shows and both times they stepped out early due to work.

Things got a little better once I got to middle school and made some friends, and had more people to hang out with, and other places to spend my time. I wasn’t so lonely. But I never really felt like I belonged, and I would have loved to have parents who cared where I was and when I got home.

I of course always acted like having them gone was so cool, while inside I kept wondering why they even bothered having a kid if they weren’t going to get to know him. Telling them I wished we had more time together didn’t go over well either. I learned that at a young age. “You can’t be selfish Jackson. Our clients need us. And how can we afford to give you all these nice things if we don’t work hard and take our jobs seriously? ” I had made the mistake once of saying I didn’t need all the expensive stuff, I just wanted them. They accused me of being ungrateful and not appreciating everything they did for me.

I feel like I’ve been silently screaming for them to see me my entire life, and it’s fucking exhausting.

After my last class I change and go for a run. Exercise and sex are my go to stress relievers, and sex isn’t an option right now, unfortunately. It’s September in Colorado and it’s not long before I’m sweating through my tank top and my legs and chest ache.

It’s the good kind of ache though, and I feel better afterwards as I shower and dress to head to Lucy’s place.

I change into my black jeans and a black mesh shirt. My raven colored hair is styled to perfection because I can’t bring myself to do any less. I’ve always cared a fair amount about my appearance. And I definitely have my own style. I know I’ve drawn some attention with the way I dress and the amount of accessories I wear, but it’s me, and it’s what makes me feel comfortable in my own skin.

I slide my rings back on my fingers, one for all four on each hand. Each one is a different animal made of stainless steel. A tiger, a monkey, a dragon, and a few others, including my favorite one, which is Aragorn’s ring from Lord of the Rings — the two serpents with emerald eyes. I’m a bit of a fan, and I wear it on my pointer finger just like he does. I switch my silver nose ring out for a plain black one, then do the same with the barbell in my left nipple. My tongue ring stays the same, and I leave the earrings in my ears, four in each one. Two at the top, one in the middle, and one in each lobe. Then I apply a smokey eyeshadow on my eyelids, and eyeliner around my eyes.

It’s a couple of minutes after seven when I arrive at Lucy’s apartment. Rory gets there at the same time as me and I smile when I see my best friend. He’s dressed in his signature button up shirt and suspenders, his brown waves falling over his forehead as he grins at me. He’s several inches shorter than my own five ten and stands on his tiptoes to give me a bone crushing hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says.

“Thanks, babe.”

His phone buzzes and he takes it out of his pocket as Lucy opens the door. She squeals and throws her arms around me, and then we both turn to Rory who is still staring at his phone, and frowning.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, but his smile is not convincing. “Zach wants to know how long I’ll be gone. He says we haven’t seen each other much lately and he wants to spend time with me.”

“Did you tell him we were celebrating Jackson?” Lucy asks. Her dark hair is in a ponytail and she has lounge pants and a cropped shirt on, showcasing her belly button ring. It’s new and it looks so good against her light brown skin. I went with her to get it a couple of weeks ago after she’d been talking about doing it for months.

He sighs. “Yeah, and he told me how he’d been hoping to spend the evening together and would be all alone now.”

I exchange a glance with Lucy as Rory types on his phone. Rory’s boyfriend has given us ick vibes since the day we met him. He’s not mean, that we’ve noticed, but he’s almost too nice when we’re around, too smooth. He’s always making sure he knows where Rory is and telling him how much he misses him. He convinced Rory to move in with him after only four months together. It doesn’t sound healthy to me, but what do I know about relationships? I’m not exactly an expert in the field. I learned my lesson the hard way, more than once, and ever since then I’ve made it a rule to never fuck the same guy twice. It keeps things simpler.

“I’m so excited for you!” Lucy says as we make our way into the apartment she shares with two other girls. They’re out, so it’s just us, and Lucy has my favorite snacks set out on the coffee table – popcorn, chocolate chips, peanut butter, and cheetos, along with some snacks Rory can have with his different food allergies. Lucy is like that, always looking out for both of us.

We settle on the couch and watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show , reciting the lines, singing along and even acting out the different scenes like they do during the live shows. It gets me even more excited to be a part of the production.

“You are going to look so hot in that outfit,” Lucy says with a wicked grin. I blush. I’m actually pretty excited about that part, too. I love the corset and black tights that are Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s attire, along with the black heels, pearls, and makeup.

We’re laughing and goofing off when Lucy’s roommates return and we share the news, which they are excited about, and tell me they will be in the audience on opening night.

“I bet your mom and dad were excited when you told them,” Rory says, a megawatt smile on his adorable freckled face.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to keep my smile from disappearing at the mention of my parents, the conversation (if you can call it that) that I had with my mom running through my head again. “Yeah, they were.” I take a sip of my soda, trying to diffuse the ache in my chest.

“They must be so proud of you,” Lucy chimes in. “Are they coming? I bet they wish you were closer so they could come to all of your shows.”

“Um, no, they can’t get away.” I haven’t asked but I know better than to expect them to fly out here to see me when they couldn’t be bothered to drive five miles to my performances in middle and high school.

I’ve never felt the need to share much about my parents with Rory and Lucy. I don’t want them to know. I don’t need their pity and the chances of them ever meeting are slim to none, so as far as they know, I have loving parents who miss me terribly and are super supportive.

Both of them frown. “Oh, that sucks,” Rory says. “Well, maybe we can record it and send them a copy. Or the theater department can?”

I plaster on another smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

A week later things in the theater department are in full swing. We have practice three nights a week for a few hours. We’ve gotten fitted for our costumes and have done the read through. Now we’re working on blocking.

One of the reasons I love theater so much is that being a part of a project, something that not everyone gets to be involved in, and watching the show come together, is really cool. I enjoy the camaraderie and the team aspect, and I don’t have to get trampled by a bunch of jocks to get that high. Dancing, acting, and singing are much more my speed than basketball or football, or any sort of ball, really.

I knew I wanted theater to be my major from a young age. It’s exciting, getting to play so many different roles, and putting my emotion into the characters I play is therapeutic for me.

I’m getting out of my last class of the day when my phone dings with an incoming text message. When I pull it out of my pocket I see that it’s from Rory in our group chat.

Rory: SOS, meet me at the coffee shop. Crying emoji

Shit. What happened? Rory has never SOS’d us before.

Lucy: On my way

Me: Same

Rory: Hurry, I’m not okay

When I arrive at the campus coffee shop about ten minutes later, Lucy is sitting at a booth with Rory’s head on her shoulder, and the poor guy looks utterly miserable. He’s sobbing when I take a seat across from them.

“What the hell?” I ask. I’ve never seen Rory like this before. He’s so upset.

“Zach is trash,” Lucy says, and my eyes widen as I realize the implication.

“Fuck,” I say, then look at Rory. “I’m really sorry, babe.” I hate that his boyfriend cheated on him. No one deserves that. Least of all Rory. I knew Zach was trash, but now I can’t help feeling a bit guilty that neither Lucy or I said something sooner. Maybe we could have spared him this. But he might not have listened, and maybe this is what it’s taking to get him to see the truth about the guy and how much better he deserves. I do wish I could ease his pain though, or help in some way. Those tears are killing me.

He nods and sniffles. “Thank you. I just can’t go back there. I mean, I have to eventually, to get my stuff, but not tonight. Not while he’s there. I have to find a place to stay.”

That I can help with. “You can crash on our couch,” I say, referring to the apartment I share with two other guys. I’m just thankful I don’t have theater practice tonight because Rory needs us both right now.