Chapter 2 Lois #2
The voice behind me makes me jump. I twist around, and it takes me a moment to recognize the guy from the fifth floor.
“Hey,” I mutter, biting the inside of my cheek.
“For a second there, I thought my couch might have swallowed you whole. I cross-examined it, but hey”—he claps his hands—“innocent until proven guilty, and all that. I should have remembered!”
He’s breezy, talking like it’s just a normal day. Blue skies and sunshine. And sure, the weather’s great. But the rest of it sucks. Absolutely sucks. I almost resent him for shoving his good mood in my face.
“I’m sorry.” I force out the words. “I didn’t want to be that person who never leaves, so I left.”
“You waiting for a cab?” He takes in the scene: me sitting on my few worldly possessions.
“Umm…” That’s the best I can muster.
We stare at each other in silence. Or near silence: the sole of my shoe is scuffing back and forth over the asphalt.
The words come tumbling out despite myself. “School’s starting up.”
“I know, yeah.” He laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “You go to SHU, too?”
His question takes me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting him to be a fellow student, maybe because he’s so tall. There’s something mature about him. He must be a senior.
“Do you go to SHU?” He repeats the words slowly.
I nod, feeling the knot in the pit of my stomach tighten.
Today was supposed to be special: my very first day at Sycamore Heights University.
Same college as Kirk, because… because I wanted to be with him.
Pathetic. That’s what my brother had said when we got my college application pack, but he’s never been in love—he doesn’t know what it feels like.
We were supposed to be getting up early, because Kirk likes to start the day at the crack of dawn.
Grab a coffee and a bite to eat together.
Hop on his scooter and zip to campus, my arms wrapped tight around his waist. What wasn’t supposed to happen was splitting up two days before to “get the most out of the college experience.”
“…a ride?”
I look up at my one-night host. He’s asking me something.
“What?”
“Need a ride?”
“A ride where?”
“Do you have, like, attention issues or something? To campus! Unless you’re already planning on skipping class—which I do not recommend,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper and mock-serious.
“The dean does not mess around with rebellious freshmen. Trust me—I had to retake most of my freshman-year courses.”
“There’s no way I’m missing my first classes…”
My gaze shifts to my bags. What the hell am I supposed to do with all of this?
I can’t haul around my entire life all day.
My shoulders are already carrying enough—grief, regret, heartbreak.
As much as I want to crawl into a hole and never come out, I can’t risk losing my meager scholarship and the money my parents have already spent.
“I’m still not planning on kidnapping you and sacrificing you in a satanic ritual in the desert for what it’s worth,” he teases.
“There’s not even a desert within, like, twelve hundred miles.”
“I know. But I’m trying to make a statement here.”
“If you say so.”
“So, what’s it going to be, Heartbreak?”
I widen my eyes at him. He did not just say that.
A flash of anger, and I suddenly sit upright. “Don’t call me that!” I snap.
“Sorry.” He shrugs, not sounding sorry at all.
He almost seemed nice earlier, but right now, there’s only one word that springs to mind: “asshole.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and bite back on my irritation before looking up at him.
“It’s just that… I don’t know what to do with my stuff.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know…” I gesture stiffly around me. “Girl gets dumped, yada yada.”
He nods briskly, scratching his chin.
“Your guy threw you out without wondering where you’d crash? What did you do, sleep with his dad or something?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I murmur. Tears are welling up again.
He lets out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s cold. He sounds like a total dick.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I instinctively rush to Kirk’s defense. “He… He’s…”
I’m not sure how this sentence ends.
“What are you, a relationship guru?” I spit instead.
“Fuck no!”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.”
I take in his vibe. Casual, trendy. From where I’m sitting, he looks huge, his shoulders so broad they almost block out the sun and take up my entire field of vision.
His brown hair is still slicked back from his shower.
His mischievous green eyes seem to constantly be daring someone to challenge him.
Put it all together, and there’s no two ways about it: This guy has no idea what being in a relationship means.
Definitely no idea what it means to me. Then and there I decide: I do not like him very much at all.
“Anyway,” I say, shifting my attention back to our conversation. “I’ll go check with the admin office; they might still have a room for me.”
“Unlikely. But you can try.”
I side-eye him, overcome by the sudden urge to throw one of my bags at his face. But I hold back because, now that I think about it, I really could do with that ride.
“I accept,” I say, offering up a tight smile. “I’d love a ride.”
“Well, today’s your lucky day, Heartbreak. Meet the smoothest member of the Campus Drivers!”
He flexes his pecs, and I try my hardest not to roll my eyes.
“The what now?”
“The Campus Drivers.” He says the words slowly, shooting me an offended look.
I rack my brain, but I’m totally blanking. Nada. “As in, drivers on campus? Okay…”
“The ones and only! Four knights on their steeds of steel, ready and waiting to serve damsels in distress!”
“A damsels-only service?” I shoot back, frowning.
“Preferably.” He snickers, making a move toward the car parked right next to us.
I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head in disbelief. He’s got all the cockiness of a guy who gets around way too much for his own good. Classic douchey player energy. My least favorite type.
“So, shall we do business?”
“How much?” I sigh.
“The first ride is always free, baby.” He smirks.
“Building loyalty. Great marketing,” I say flatly.
“Building addiction, really. Okay, the clock’s ticking: Are you getting in?”
I shoot another glance at my bags. There’s a bitter taste of sadness flooding the back of my throat.
“Okay.” My lips are quivering. Damn it.
I hear him pop the trunk. He strides back over and grabs two of my bags, and I follow. Just as he’s scooping up the rest of my stuff, my eyes dart to the inside of the car.
“See? No room left to hide a body,” he whispers at me with a creepy grin.
“You really know how to charm your customers, huh?”
I walk around to the other side of the car, when he runs ahead, pulling open the door with a theatrical bow.
“After you, m’lady.”
“I wouldn’t bother,” I warn him, getting into the car and fastening my seat belt. “Once I’m living on campus, I’ll be walking. And once Kirk sees sense, I’ll be back on his scooter.”
“In that case…”
He leaves my door open wide, forcing me to stretch so far out to close it I think my shoulder might pop. He heads back around the car, pausing at the front to kiss the hood and gaze at it lovingly, and slips behind the wheel.
“I just picked her back up from the garage,” he says, clocking my raised eyebrow. “I missed her.”
“Right…”
“A 1969 Camaro SS,” he adds. He’s practically bursting with pride.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?”
He looks at me as if I just ran over his dog.
“Sorry, I mean… Wow!” I mime fascination. “A Cama-thingy, that’s just… Wow!”
“I’m going to pretend I never heard that.”
He starts the car, and I swear even the engine sounds like it’s offended.
It will take us around twenty minutes to get to campus, so I pull down the visor and check myself in the mirror.
I push my shades up on top of my head, brushing my mass of hair back as best as I can with my fingers.
I examine my features and sigh. Jesus, Lois, you’re a mess…
I rummage in my bag and pull out a packet of wipes.
The last time I showered was Saturday. It’s currently Monday morning. Lord help me…
I wipe the grime off my face while pointedly ignoring my driver’s occasional side glances. Once the last remaining traces of my heartbreak have been erased, I leave my damp skin to air-dry.
“Want to listen to anything in particular?”
I turn my attention to the car radio. Soft music is playing. He gestures to change the station, but I place my hand over his.
“Leave it. I like this song.”
I twist the knob, cranking up the volume.
“You know Tool?” He looks at me, astonished.
“Sure. Why? Is that so surprising?”
“Uh… Kind of? I’ve never met a girl who knows them!”
“Well, I’ve never met a guy who’s never met a girl who knows them.”
He squints at me.
“Gives me a rough idea of the kind of girl you hang out with…” God. Why the hell did I just say that? “Anyway…”
“I don’t need them to have good taste in music.” He laughs. “They can even scream off-key, for all I care.”
I pretend to puke, and gaze out the window, watching the world race by.
Once the campus swings into view, my insides tighten. I might just puke for real after all. We skirt around the gates before turning onto a side lane. The campus is teeming with students, and I tug my sweater down over my knees.
“Here we are!”
He pulls up next to a huddle of loud guys.
I shuffle in my seat and go to unclip my seat belt, but my fingers are so tense, I keep missing. I silently curse the seat belt and its oppressive ways.
Click.
I look up at my knight in shining armor. He’s shaking his head at me, laughing.
“I’ve got a feeling you’ll never forget your first day of college, Heartbreak.”
I flip him off, but he’s already turning away and stepping out. I follow suit and stretch my heavy legs. I move to the back of the car, taking in long gulps of air as I go to reach for the trunk.
“Step away from the car, ma’am!”
My driver shakes his head gravely, as if I’ve just committed the ultimate crime.
The trunk squeaks as he heaves it open, and he stands there with his arms raised, so close his tight muscles brush against the tip of my nose.
I step back and repeatedly clear my throat as he just stares down at my bags.
“What’s up?” I’m starting to lose patience.
He glances at me. “I’ll make you a deal. How about you leave your stuff in my trunk for today. You can call me once you have a room. Or a tent.”
“I’ll be fine,” I mutter, but my voice wavers.
God, don’t be such a wimp, Lois.
“I’m serious, it’s no big deal,” he insists.
“I’m having trouble imagining you carting this around all day.
You don’t get just how big this place is.
Think of it as my last good deed, okay?” His eyes travel down my body, taking in my outfit.
“Honestly, you already look like you’re living out of your car, so do yourself a favor and leave your stuff with me. ”
I know it’s true. My sweater is flapping around my lower thighs, and there’s a hole in the knee of my black leggings. I’m a horror show.
“And how am I supposed to find you again?” I ask sharply.
“Campus Drivers, Heartbreak. Download the app and DM me.”
“Dude! Get your ass over here.”
I turn to look at the group of guys waiting beside a bright red car. These must be his friends. Fellow car nerds.
“Meet the rest of the team,” he whispers by my ear, his voice low.
His breath brushes the curve of my neck.
“It’s a privilege. A real honor.” I mockingly wipe an imaginary tear from my cheek.
He chuckles, and when I glance at him, his eyes are already on me.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask suddenly.
“Doing what?”
“Helping me out. If this is your way of trying to…”
“Trying to what?”
“Like, if this is some kind of move. I just… I need you to know, I’m not interested.”
His faces freezes. And then he breaks into loud, husky laughter. He drops the trunk and continues cackling as he steps closer.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Heartbreak. But flirting hadn’t even occurred to me. Flirting with you, anyway.”
Of course not. Who would want a loser like me? Just like Kirk said, I…
“Just making sure,” I mutter. “Okay, I would like to leave my stuff here, then, yes.”
He flashes me two thumbs-up and slams the trunk shut. All I can do now is cross my fingers and pray that he isn’t a kleptomaniac. Or that he doesn’t have a fetish for mismatched underwear.
He starts stepping back toward his friends. “Have a great first day.”
“Thank you. And thanks for last night. And… Thanks for everything, really.”
He places a hand on his chest and dips into a ridiculous bow. Then he turns on his heel, and I watch him walk away.
“Okay, Lois,” I whisper, facing the looming campus gates. “You’ve got this.”
I slide my sunglasses back onto my nose and head for the crowd. Safely hidden behind the dark lenses, I scan the sea of students, searching for a glimpse of Kirk.
And sure, I can admit I’m desperate. Just a little.
You know—the kind of little that weighs a ton.