Chapter 4
SOFIA
As soon as he’s out of sight, because of course I turned around to see if he was watching me, I take off running, mildly disappointed that he wasn’t standing in the same place I left him, staring after me.
I need to run to get rid of the totally inappropriate adrenaline rush that’s been with me, forcing my heart to beat too fast and frantic, like a ghost is chasing me.
But it’s him, Trick, or my dreamy idea of him, the one I’ve cherished over the years, of the boy who rescued me from mean girls, or the boy who picked me up off the ground where I’d fallen as a kid when I’d been chased for real by some dogs. He held them off and helped me home.
To this day, every time I look at the tiny scar on my knee, hoping it won’t fade completely, I smile remembering how kind he was, how brave and unafraid of the dogs. He didn’t judge me for my fear of dogs like my father always did.
Now I’ve learned to hide the fear because I know it’s irrational. I don’t remember where it came from, but my mother does, and she understands.
I reach my building at the Hamlet apartment complex and let myself in the back door of the townhouse.
I’m not surprised that Ricci and Nina are in the living room gossiping with a group of girls, our fourth roommate and two of the girls from next door.
I’m prepared for the possibility that they’re gossiping about me.
They both jump up with twin guilty smiles that quickly morph into delight because it’s not like either of them to feel real guilt over doing something they love—talking endlessly about people.
“How was lunch?” Ricci asks in her usual sly voice paired with a giddy grin, forcing me to squelch an eye roll.
I address the room in an exaggerated breathless voice.
“It was everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
We’re hopelessly in love, engaged to be married, and planning to elope to Las Vegas tomorrow.
” I grin as Ricci frowns and the others’ expressions go from shocked to disappointment in two slow blinks, recognizing my cinematic sarcasm.
Nina throws a pillow at me, and I catch it. She and Ricci sit back down in their places on one of the two couches.
“Seriously,” Ricci says as the official gossip-huddle spokesperson. I step into the huddle and sit on the coffee table, surrounded by five girls, glad that I know all their names, though I just met three of them yesterday.
“We had a serious talk,” I pause, allowing a naughty smile. “And we did some flirting.”
“That’s it?” Ricci says.
“They were in the middle of a dining hall,” Nina says. “What did you expect?”
“I’m not surprised.” My third roommate, a tall girl named Darcy with impressively long blond hair hanging loosely down to her backside, sounds like she disapproves.
I’m not sure why since the only thing I’ve learned about her in the short time since I moved in is that she wants to go into fashion design because she washed out as a fashion model.
She’s pretty enough, but I think her fatal photographic flaw is her eyes.
They’re set a smidge too close together to be ideal, and unfortunately, that’s all it takes with the killer competition in that business.
“I looked him up on Insta, and his posts are lame, mostly hockey reels and old pics, a few from the summer. What’s with that? Is he trying to be private?”
I laugh because I found out the embarrassing way that his sister Kathleen runs his Instagram account for him because he can’t be bothered. But I’m not telling Miss judgmental that. “Something like that.”
“Are you hooking up?” Ricci presses.
“We left it that I’ll call him.”
“You’ll call him?” Darcy says.
“Yes. I don’t mind being in control. He asked me for my number, but—”
“You didn’t give it to him,” Nina says with a glint of admiration in her eyes. “Doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’re the most confident, in-control girl I know. And it doesn’t hurt that Trick obviously has it for you bad.”
I smile at her and reach a hand out to touch her knee. I don’t bother telling her how wrong her impression is. I’m scared silly right now that he’s not really into me, but taking the chance is better than the torture of never knowing—or that’s what I’m telling myself.
The other girls start talking, asking questions, but mostly they ramble about Trick and what a hot hunk he is.
“So why didn’t you date him in high school?” Darcy asks. “Ricci was sketchy on that part.”
Nina jumps in, “She told them you were too serious for him back then and he was a…not serious.”
“I told them he was a fuckboy,” Ricci says. “Still is.” She looks around the group for confirmation. The others nod.
Darcy says, “Though not in a bad way since any one of us would jump at the chance to do him.” They all nod again, looking from apologetic to eager.
“Not anymore,” I declare like it’s the law. It sort of is, though, because if I’m going out on a limb to test out a real romantic relationship with one of my family’s hated rivals, then I’m going to need him to be one hundred percent all-in with no side dishes.
Darcy raises a skeptical brow, and I’m not sure how to read her, but so far, I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy about her. And that’s too bad since we’re both fashion design majors. I was hoping we could geek out on all things design.
Standing, I want to escape to my room before one of these girls starts talking in greater detail about the salacious rumors they’ve heard about Trick. I’m not so in control that I wouldn’t feel the pinprick of hurt listening to them, whether or not I have a right to feel betrayed.
“Did you hear the rumor that he had a threesome with—aren’t you going to stick around and gossip?
” The pretty plump girl with an eager smile lighting up her gorgeous face, highlighted by long dark fluttering eyelashes that are astoundingly real, aims her earnest deep brown eyes at me.
I’d consider giving up my left pinky fingernail for those eyelashes.
“No thank you. I need to finish putting my room together and go over my schedule and the campus map. Classes start tomorrow, and I’m new, remember?” I smile and wave at the group as I go to my bedroom suite off the kitchen and close the door firmly behind me.
Thank god neither Ricci nor Nina disputed my professed ignorance about the campus, but I only slightly exaggerated.
I had only two days to explore the campus with them, and I’m still not sure where one of my classes is.
In truth, I desperately need to call my sister Carmela—in the privacy of my room.
Taking out my phone and pressing Carmela’s icon, I squash a flash of guilt about Ricci kicking out the girl who had this room last semester, but she swore the girl didn’t really want to stay anyway.
Dad came through when he agreed to let me take the last of the four bedrooms with Nina and Ricci in their apartment.
I scored big. The Hamlet may be a student apartment complex, but it’s extra exclusive and located perfectly on the edge of campus.
The other three bedrooms are upstairs, so mine is separate and relatively private—and right near the back door for potential secret visits from a certain young man.
I’m pondering whether or not to keep his first visit secret when Carmela answers my call.
“I made contact.” My voice almost squeaks with nervous excitement. If Nina could see me now, she’d take back everything she said about me being in control and confident.
“Wow. Hello to you too. I’m not exactly sure what you mean by contact, but whatever, that was hella fast work.”
She pauses, and I get my nervous energy under control.
She asks quietly, “How are you?”
“I don’t know, Mel. It’s weird, but I really don’t know.
I’m a confused, excited mess, and every other minute I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.
Then I look at him or even think about him and realize I have no choice.
I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t take a shot at…
” I don’t even know what I’m taking a shot at.
Happiness for now? Forever love? One thing it won’t be is a happy ever after, not with our families being enemies, not the way they barely tolerate the others’ existence and compete ferociously at every opportunity.
“I get it. You’re doing what you need to do. And don’t worry so much. After all, I have your back, don’t I? And I’m still part of the family.”
“Of course you are.” A nervous hiccup bubbles up, and I cover my mouth, still trying to simmer down. I add, “For now. I’m not sure if Dad and our brothers wouldn’t disown both of us if it came down to it.”
“I’m sure they won’t. Mom isn’t like Dad. You know she barely puts up with the tough guy talk about the Jennings. In fact, last week I could have sworn I saw her talking to Mrs. Jennings outside the local hairdresser—you know the one on Main Street?”
“Lulu’s Beauty Babes? I doubt Mom goes there.” I scrunch my brows, trying to figure that one out, but I can’t. There’s no way Mom would have her hair done at that salon. She’s famously loyal to Chez Josef Salon.
“They were outside, but whatever. I met Lulu at the Fourth of July fireworks, and she’s a fun lady. I like her. Maybe I’ll try her salon.”
I laugh. “I bet you would.”
“Don’t be such a snob, Sof, especially not when you’re about to slum it with the original bad boy of the Jennings family.”
“Fine. You’re right. And he’s not a bad boy.
Don’t believe all the rumors.” I don’t believe them.
Not the one about the threesome or any of them.
Not really. If there’s one thing I understand acutely, it’s that gossip is gossip, at best an exaggeration of the truth. At its worst, gossip is flat-out lies.
I remember how Ricci and Nina gossiped about Trick in high school, and I know he never did more than kiss that girl Marilyn at that party that time. And he actually apologized to her later for all the gossip.