2. Lyla
Chapter two
Lyla
I knew I shouldn’t have worn these jeans.
Every female owned a pair of standing-only pants—a pair of jeans they loved and looked fabulous in. They hugged every curve because they were tight as hell and could practically be a second skin around the waist. The downfall to these jeans? They were tortuous to sit in.
Yet here I was, completely aware of this phenomenon, sitting at a coffee shop table wearing my standing-only pants. The button of my jeans dug into my skin. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of old books, freshly ground coffee, and whatever yummy cologne the guy in the red shirt was wearing from a few tables over. This was one of my happy places. Grounds for Thought offered a vibrant crowd, but it was cozy enough that if one wanted to read or study, they could do so without getting distracted.
I leaned back, relieving my stomach from my tight, light-wash jeans. At least I hadn’t committed the cardinal sin of pairing the standing-only pants with a crop top. I saved that combination for the bars.
My chai tea latte had to be cool enough by now to sip on. I snagged the cup from the table and stood up. I was meeting my best friend and roommate, Charlie, to discuss and borderline talk shit about our other two roommates, Michelle and Keira. It was nothing personal, but Charlie and I had to decide if we wanted to take chances with two new roommates next semester. Considering next year was our last year at Bowling Green State University, it was a big decision.
As soon as I turned around to check my phone, Charlie came flying through the entrance of Grounds for Thought. She swiped the stray hairs from her messy bun out of her face and was about to walk past our table when she saw my bag on the chair.
Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you standing?”
I swallowed another small sip of my chai latte and shrugged. “Standing-only pants.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded, helping herself to the seat across from me. She tore open the wrapper of her straw and stuck it in her smoothie. “Sorry, I’m late. Some hot weirdo was standing right in front of the door. I couldn’t figure out a polite way to ask him to move, so I waited until he walked across the street.”
“A hot weirdo and you didn’t know what to say? You always have something to say.”
“Why don’t you have a seat in your standing-only pants,” she snapped.
I sucked my teeth. “Hard pass. I’m seeing Jake after this, so I won’t be home for like an hour.”
“Which one is Jake? Is he the blonde from The Attic?”
“I don’t know if we met at The Attic or 149,” I pondered. They were both popular bars we frequented, so either choice was a possibility.
Jake was the hot blonde guy I had been sleeping with for the past month. Guys usually had a thirty-day expiration date. It was long enough to figure out what we liked but short enough to keep them out of my personal life.
Charlie answered a text message. “Who was Mr. April? ”
“No one was Mr. April. Jake is May, but I’m considering extending his trial period to August because it will save me time when we get back in the fall.”
“ Mr. May,” she corrected.
“It would be too much to have a last name change at the beginning of the year,” I exaggerated. “Shit would just be confusing. Best to stick with May and August for now.”
She squinted like I was speaking a different language. “But half the fun of Opening Weekend is finding you a Mr. August. I live for the frat-boy douchebags.”
“Technically, we get back at the end of August. So maybe the Opening Weekend guy can be the September guy.”
She chuckled, slipping her phone into her purse. “Your schedule sounds exhausting.”
I disagreed. Relationships sounded exhausting. If one person didn’t work out, there was always the next guy. I was picky about the guys I kept around. I once went two months without getting laid because every guy I met in January and February had an agenda for Valentine’s Day. No fucking thank you.
“I like to think of it as exciting,” I said. “What’s exhausting is figuring out if we are staying with Michelle and Keira next year.”
“Do you really feel like hunting for a place to live?” Charlie groaned. “You know all of the good apartments will be taken. At least if we renew our lease at Falcon’s Pointe, we know what we’re getting.”
I nodded, weighing the pros and cons in my head. I had no desire to hunt for another apartment. Signing new papers meant I would need to contact my dad again for his banking information, and the thought of speaking to him made my chai latte churn in my stomach .
“I think Falcon’s Pointe is our best bet then. Why did we have this meeting?”
“Because in three days, I’m going to have to wait three months to see you again,” Charlie murmured.
My bottom lip stuck out in a pout, and we chuckled sadly into our drinks. Charlie and I had been through everything together. We both started our journey at BGSU in the dorms. We weren’t roommates, but we lived across the hall from each other. In our sophomore year, we requested to room together, and by junior year, we were living in Falcon’s Pointe with Michelle and Keira.
My phone buzzed on the table in front of me. I leaned over to sneak a peek at the screen and picked it up when I saw the name.
Mom
Call me when you get a chance Jean Bean!
I completely forgot to call her back this morning. “Ah fuck,” I moaned quietly to avoid disturbing the innocent readers. Grounds for Thought wasn’t the type of place you just dropped an F-bomb.
To my surprise, Charlie stood up and gestured toward the door. She had a mouthful of smoothie, but I knew she was signaling that it was time for us to leave. It was her typical move when she spotted someone she didn’t feel like talking to. I waited until we were on the street to ask who the culprit was.
“Kyle.” Charlie rolled her eyes, and I rewarded her with a few seconds of silence before I gave her shit.
I cackled unattractively. “No Style Kyle was in Grounds? ”
Charlie looked away from me so she could pretend like the nickname wasn’t funny.
I kept my eyes forward. “Was he still wearing those dad shoes?”
“New Balance has come a long way!”
“Says every dad cutting grass in the ‘90s!” I exclaimed.
We both burst into hysterics and held onto each other for support. We stopped in front of my car to gather ourselves before going our separate ways.
“I’ll see you back at the apartment,” she said, still laughing. “Jake lives by Kroger, right?”
I nodded. “Do we need anything from there?”
“She gets serviced and then serves others,” Charlie swooned. “Lyla Brooks, you are so giving.”
“Don’t make me drag Kyle out of Grounds by his New Balance shoes.”
Once in the car, I turned down the music and sat silently for a full minute before I pulled out my phone. I stared at my mom’s contact photo. It was from our trip to Florida last summer, and we had taken it right before my dad called and ruined my mood.
Two weeks before school started last fall, Aaron Brooks thought my schedule had too much time in the mornings for me to sleep around and do nothing. He threatened to withhold his payment for the spring semester if I didn’t change my schedule, so I made an appointment with my advisor the next day. It was a shitshow, honestly, having someone who wasn’t even part of your life have so much fucking say in it.
A year from now, everything would be worth it. A year from now, I’d be free from him.