~ 4 ~
FALLON
“Next week, we’ll be talking about ultrastructural cytology. So read the appropriate chapters, and be prepared to discuss them.”
Our professor closed the book as she always did, by laying a purple ribbon down the middle and then slamming it shut. I was slower to file out of the class than normal. Partly because I’d spent a restless night in a strange new place, but mostly because today was my biggest class load.
Outside, the campus looked every bit as beautiful as it did in the morning, with the exception of the sun now residing on the opposite end. I’d had biochemistry first, followed by animal nutrition and microbiology. The anatomy class was something I’d added after my schedule had been decided. Stacking classes seemed like a good idea at the time, but by this part of the day I was usually wiped.
Usually by now I’d grab something from the dining hall, but I just wanted a change of scenery. My car wasn’t anything fancy, but right now it was the one place I had that was all mine. I retreated to it, flipped on the air-conditioning, and relaxed as the cool air flowed over my warm face. By the time I pulled out of the lot, the sun was threatening to set.
Blaine.
I hadn’t thought much about my now ex-boyfriend all day, but that’s because I was busy. Now, intrusive thoughts crept their way into my tired mind. I was vengeful and angry, and hungry as hell, but I was also tremendously sad. Like it or not, I was mourning the loss of something I once thought was significant. As much as I hated Blaine for the prick he was, there had been good times too.
No. Not good times.
My brain took over, chastising me silently as I pulled onto the boulevard that led to the highway. And perhaps, I realized numbly, it was right. There had been good places, good food, good getaways and vacations. A good memory or two of us as a couple, scattered here and there. But not good times.
And definitely, not good sex.
Walking across campus today, I was haunted by the ghosts of opportunities gone by. I saw all the parties I’d never gone to, the experiences I’d missed, the loud, raunchy, even dangerous things I never got to see. The whole college experience had been stolen from me, stripped away by a boyfriend so possessive as to keep me locked away, like some collectible toy still in its valuable, original packaging. And yet infuriatingly enough, not even jealous enough to keep me from having a friendship with the blond, blue-eyed captain of the football team, who also happened to be an ex-lover.
“Of course I trust you,” Blaine had always told me. “No worries.”
And he’d been right, too. I’d remained stupidly faithful, when he had not. I’d reined in my every want, dream, and desire, to accommodate his idea of the perfect girlfriend. Because one day, I foolishly believed, we’d have an amazing future together.
I tried pushing these things from my mind as I climbed the ramp heading north. Down below, off to my right, I saw football players running drills on one of the twin gridirons. Dalton was most certainly down there, along with Emerson and Trey, too. Their second practice of the day was usually held in the evening, after the Texas day’s heat had finally broken. They’d go fairly late too, especially if they were reviewing film of a previous game, or an upcoming opponent.
As usual, thinking about Dalton brought a smile to my face. As a friend he’d always been a light in the darkness: the voice of reason, whenever I had self-doubts about love, life, or finishing my veterinary degree in time. I’d lived vicariously through him also, watching him thrive both on and off the field. Dalton had all the wild college experiences I never did. He’d dated half the cheerleading team, and beautiful girls from most of the sororities on campus. Through it all he’d never once forgotten me, and we’d never lost touch. I’d given him enough dating and womanly advice to fill a dictionary-sized book. Until the day came where I pointed out he had way more experience than I did in that field, and if anything, I should be coming to him for advice.
Eventually I rolled into the gravel driveway of the old Delta Tau fraternity house. High up on the central gable, I could make out the shape of the missing Greek letters against the fading paint. I wasn’t sure what the fraternity had done to be dissolved back in the 90’s, but it had happened quickly. The house had been legendary for its parties, sorority socials, and abject debauchery. Even now, decades later, you could still find stories about it online.
I took the key Dalton had slipped into my hand on the way out the door this morning, and inserted it into the lock. The front door opened with a satisfying click, and two steps later I was standing in the empty, mostly unfinished foyer.
The house seemed very different without the guys in it. Colder and more clinical, almost spooky even. My stomach rumbled, reminding me who was boss, so I made my way into the kitchen and dropped my keys on the worn Formica table Trey mentioned they’d picked up for free on ‘garbage night’. As they clattered across the smooth, dated surface, they skidded straight into a note:
Welcome home, Freckles!
Our house is your house, so kick your feet up.
There’s pizza in the fridge, and ice cream in the freezer.
And beer. Duh.
Tonight is movie night, if you want to stay up with us.
See you after practice.
- The guys
I recognized Dalton’s handwriting, but it was nice he’d signed the note for all of them. Cheesy or not, it made me feel especially welcome. I zapped the pizza in what just might be the tiniest microwave on the planet, and devoured it gratefully. It felt nice, only having to worry about myself for once. Blaine would never accept pizza for dinner — not unless it was rebranded as an ‘artisan flatbread’ at some gourmet restaurant — and he’d laugh in the face of leftovers.
I cleaned up, grabbed a couple of water bottles instead of a beer, and prepared to go upstairs. But first I opened the freezer… and squealed.
“Oh, hell yeah!”
Resting atop a whole stack of ice and gel packs was a fresh new pint of Chocolate Peanut Butter Pretzel ice cream. Apparently, Dalton had gone out of his way for me.
I grabbed the container, kidnapped a spoon, and hurdled the steps two at a time. When I got to Dalton’s bedroom, another surprise awaited me on his nightstand: a single rose, still in the store-bought cellophane, lay across a steamy romance novel by one of the more racy authors I knew. There was another, smaller note as well, also in Dalton’s handwriting:
We both know you’re not a prude ;)
I chuckled, and bit my lip contemplatively. Was Dalton flirting with me? No, probably not. He’d been sweet like this all throughout our friendship, dropping little presents on my car and never once forgetting my birthday. Was this any different?
Sort of, yeah.
My feet thanked me as I sat down on the bed. My campus bestie had gone out of his way to buy me ice cream, flowers, and a romance novel of all things, just to make me feel more at home. He’d fed me, clothed me, and given me his bed. Shit, it was more pampering than I’d had in the past three years.
I allowed myself to lay back, stretching my tired body, wondering what kind of movie the guys watched on a night like this. I was determined to take a nap, so I could watch it with them. To just close my eyes for an hour or two, so I could be awake and refreshed and ready to thank Dalton for his hospitality.
Instead, I passed into the dreamless, peaceful sleep even a baby would be jealous of.