Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
T he days that followed were empty and numb. I went through the motions of day-to-day life, but I wasn’t living. I felt nothing.
With only a few weeks left before the next school semester started, I needed to figure out what I would do. I should be filling out applications for four-year colleges and completing forms for financial aid, grants, and scholarships. I needed every cent of aid I could scrape up. At the end of last semester, I applied to a few schools, but they were out of my league now. Even if they accepted my transfer, I wouldn’t be able to afford the tuition.
I didn’t have the brainpower for problems. But also, I didn’t want to stay stuck in this town. Especially if my neighbors decided to stick around. As far as I knew, Crew and Cole were still in residence, but they should be getting ready to return to school.
That should make me feel relieved, eliminating the chance of running into them at the supermarket or on the beach, and yet, it didn’t. If numbness didn’t consume me, then I teetered on a fine line between rage and heartbreak. I needed a cure, and time wasn’t cutting it. I had to find a way to cut out all thoughts of Crew and Cole, and sitting in my room doing nothing was not the antidote .
Despite having no enthusiasm or drive for college, I sat down in front of my secondhand laptop and began the process of deciding what came next for me. It at least kept my thoughts from wandering to the very guys I wanted to erase.
An hour later, someone knocked on the door, pulling my attention from the computer screen. I glanced up to see Dad wheel into my room with a large white envelope on his lap. “This came for you last week. It got buried under the mail.”
I took the letter, reading the return address stamped on the corner. Whitley University, the school I’d been most eager to hear a response from. I assumed when nothing showed up I hadn’t gotten accepted, especially when Frankie got hers two weeks ago. She’d been ecstatic, squealing about our plan finally happening. In our sophomore year of high school, we’d made a pact. If we both got into Whitley, we’d go no matter what. The list-maker I was, I’d written out a draft of how’d we get there.
Years later, here we were. Except Frankie wasn’t with me. And nothing had gone according to plan.
“Are you going to open it?” Dad eagerly asked, both of us staring at the envelope clutched in my hands.
“What’s the point?” I mumbled, unable to get my fingers to move.
The dusting of gray hair at his temples seemed bolder, brightening his eyes almost the same shade. “Arie, I know things have been rough for you the last few years, and I know something happened this summer you won’t talk about, and before you get defensive, I won’t ask for the details. I have a pretty good idea. Heartbreak hurts. No one knows that better than me, but it will get better. I promise.”
He meant well. I just wasn’t in the mood for a motivational talk.
I thumbed the corner of the large flat envelope, which was typically a good sign, but I couldn’t get my hopes up. It wouldn’t matter if I got in or not.
Since it didn’t appear Dad would leave until I opened the letter, I tore the corner, sliding my fingers underneath the seal and shredding the seam. When I glanced up, Dad nodded encouragingly at me, and I could tell he hoped what was inside would jerk me out of my slump.
I didn’t want to disappoint him .
If he ever found out that I’d slept with the driver responsible for the accident…I shuddered to think.
Pulling out the cover sheet with the WU logo embossed at the top, I quickly scanned the first paragraph.
Congratulations! You’ve been admitted to Whitley University for the fall term.
I smiled, and the small movement felt funny on my lips as if it had been years since I last curved my mouth in joy. “I got in,” I whispered.
Dad clapped his hands together and grinned. “No one deserves it more than you. We need a drink to celebrate.”
The elation slipped from my features, and it had nothing to do with the offer of booze we both knew he didn’t need. “What’s the point? I’m not going.” I crumbled up the acceptance letter, dropping it on the bed with the rest of the letter’s contents. The pamphlet inside was useless to me.
Dad’s expression went from wanting a celebration drink to I need a fucking drink. “What are you talking about? You’ve dreamed of going to Whitley since high school.”
I shrugged. “Things change.”
“Does this have anything to do with the boy next door?” he asked, giving me a pointed look.
Wonderful . So even my father picked up my apparent not so secret relationship with Crew and Cole. What else had he heard? On second thought, I didn’t want to know. “No. And besides, nothing is going on between us.”
An emotion I hadn’t seen from my father in years moved into his features. Determination and strong resolve. “You’re going to that school, Arie. If this is about the cost, I’ll figure it out, but you are going. I know how much getting into Whitley means to you. It’s the first time I’ve seen you genuinely happy in weeks.”
Guilt sliced through me. I never should have made a deal with the devil. Now I was paying the price, and if I didn’t go, I risked disappointing my father, something I couldn’t do.
Not again.
T he rest of the week, I wrestled and mulled over my future, wavering between going to college and getting a full-time job. Each day, the mailbox produced another transfer letter from other schools. I’d forgotten how many I’d applied to at the end of the term.
I’d been so excited when I finished my community college classes, so stoked and ready to move on to a bigger campus with more resources and classes available—more opportunities.
Now each letter I received felt like pouring salt in an open wound. I hated watching my future slip through my fingers. I’d gotten so close, and yet I continued to crucify myself each day by walking down the driveway to the mailbox.
Taking the two unopened envelopes that came today, I sat in the kitchen, leaving them untouched on the table.
Avoidance became something I grew good at. I’d also been avoiding my bank account but for different reasons than usual. Before, I feared seeing the negative balance that haunted me more than the positive, but today, seeing my balance induced a sense of remorse and impurity like it was filthy money.
I hadn’t earned it, not really, not the way I was used to. I worked hard for my money, but what I’d done with Cole and Crew had been nothing and yet was the job that made me the most cash.
Sighing, I opened my bank’s app on my phone and faced the reality of my situation?—
What the fuck?
This can’t be right.
I blinked, refreshing the app a moment later. All those zeros were still there.
I clicked the activity to see what in the world was happening with my account. It didn’t take me long to figure it out. I scrolled through the first few purchases only to stop at a large deposit that had been added to my account last week. Fifty thousand dollars. A phone call to the bank wasn’t necessary. I had a damn good guess where it had come from.
Crew .
It was the balance we’d agreed upon once the summer ended.
He didn’t.
Oh, but he did .
Damn him.
I didn’t fucking want it.
Seeing all those zeros behind my account balance felt like dirty money.
I still hadn’t come up with a plan to pay Crew back for the money I’d spent, and after staring at my online bank statement, it felt as if I’d be indebted to him for the rest of my life.
Then I remembered the lies. The shit they put me through. My best friend nearly dying. A check would never make up for the pain or the anger still residing within me, but maybe the best fuck you I could give Crew was to spend his guilt money on those he hurt.
Like Frankie. Dad. And me.
Gnawing on my cheek, I picked up my phone and called the one person of reason I could trust. However, her logic was often flawed. Perhaps I sought her above anyone else because I knew what answer she would give me, and deep down, I wanted affirmation.
“What should I do?” I asked after Frankie answered, putting the phone on speaker.
“About?” Frankie drawled. “Need specifics. Sadly, I’m not a mind reader to my great disappointment. You think with my Romany blood I’d have at least inherited a spark of something.”
I rolled my eyes. Her so-called Romany blood came from stories her grandma used to tell her. No one knew if there were any truth to her tales. “Do you think I should return the money?”
“Hell no. Are you crazy?” she shrilled, and I was grateful I didn’t have the phone pressed to my ear. “Stop looking a gift horse in the mouth.”
I frowned. “I hate that phrase.”
“And I hate dumbasses.”
My lips twitched. “Did you just call me a dumbass?”
“Depends on whether you keep the money or not.”
I scraped at a stain on the wooden table with my nail. “I used a chunk of it to pay off bills, but he deposited the rest into my account.”
“I fail to see the problem,” she replied.
“Frankie,” I groaned.
“You know what you’re going to do with the money, Arie. And you called me to hold you accountable, and I fucking will. Now you better hope y ou can still get an apartment on campus.” Her tone had grown fiercer as if she wanted to come through the phone and pound her words into me.
She was right. I wanted someone to tell me to go for it. The only way I’d ever be able to pay Crew back was to make money faster, which was exactly what I’d do when I got a job after graduating. “The thing is, I don’t want to go alone.”
A long pause unrolled from the other end of the phone before she whispered, “What are you saying?”
I smiled, wishing I’d called her on FaceTime. I wanted to see her reaction. “I need a roommate. Pack your shit, bitch, you’re coming with me.”
“Don’t play with me.” A rustling came through the other end. It sounded like she sat up quickly.
“I need my best friend.”
“Arie, I can’t let you do that,” she protested, but she couldn’t disguise the grains of hope I detected.
Leaning back in my chair, I kicked my legs out onto the seat across from me. “It’s just an apartment. I have to pay the rent regardless. You just get to live in the spare room,” I reasoned. Like me, Frankie didn’t take handouts. We earned our way through life, fighting if necessary.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she quickly said, warming up to the idea. I could nearly hear the wheels in her head turning.
I laughed.
“I’ll get a job,” she added, making it known she wouldn’t freeload.
“We both will.” College was expensive, and even with the money sitting pretty in my bank, it wouldn’t last forever. I had two years to get through. Good thing I was a frugal bitch who knew how to work hard.
“So, we’re really doing this?” The hope in her voice was no longer a bud. It had bloomed to a full damn flower, and it would disappoint her if I’d been kidding, which I hadn’t.
I grinned stupidly at the phone. “Pack your damn bags. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
She squealed.
A t the end of August, Frankie and I were packing her car full of shit and on our way to Whitley for college move-in day. It had been a chaotic couple of weeks and exactly what I needed to keep my mind occupied. We got lucky and were able to secure a tiny apartment on campus that the tenant backed out on at the last minute. The best part was it came fully furnished, and despite only having one bedroom, Frankie and I were too damn excited to care about the lack of privacy. We’d figure it out.
This day was the epitome of freedom. Something I’d looked forward to for what felt like very long years, and I wasn’t keen on this freedom being possible because of Crew and his money. I hated being indebted to anyone, and in a way, that’s what it felt like.
I was so ready to leave Fallen Oaks behind and all the heartache I’d suffered here. Despite leaving Dad being difficult, this was something I had to do. We both knew it, and he would have Sadie. If anything arose, I would only be two hours away, one of the reasons WU had been my top choice. It was far enough away to be out of Fallen Oaks but close enough I could get back in a pinch.
Since neither Dad nor I were keen on goodbyes, we made it quick. It was hard not worrying about him, but I reminded myself he was an adult. I couldn’t babysit him forever.
With Frankie’s car stuffed to the max, she rolled out of my driveway, using her side mirrors to guide her since she couldn’t see shit out the back window.
Don’t look. Don’t you dare look, I internally scolded for all the good it did.
I glanced at the dove-gray house next door with its pristine white shutters. The house had been empty for at least two weeks. Perhaps more. I tried not to think about it. Unsuccessfully, of course.
“Can you believe we’re doing this, bitch?” Frankie asked as if she understood I needed to be pulled out of my dark thoughts.
I shook my head, dragging my gaze away from the house. “No. It still seems unreal.”
Frankie flipped on her blinker, filling the car with its repetitive ticking. “Should I punch you to see if it hurts? ”
“What the hell, Frankie.” I laughed. “You just skipped right over pinch and went to punch.”
She shrugged, looking left and right at the stop sign. “I like to move fast.”
I rolled my eyes, thankful for her distracting me. “I’m sure the guys a WU will appreciate that.”
We stopped for coffee and a bathroom break because Frankie had a small bladder and couldn’t hold it worth shit, but we finally rolled onto the Whitley campus and headed straight for the front desk of the Zenith residence hall.
Frankie hung the silver ring from her finger, the key dangling as we hiked up the stairs to the third floor. Apartment thirty-six. We left the crammed car stuffed with our personal belongings, too eager to see where we’d be living for the next two semesters.
With a squeal, Frankie stuck the key into the lock and turned it. She smiled at me as she let the door swing open and tugged me inside. Together we stood just over the threshold and took it all in. Not that there was much to see, but I didn’t need much. What mattered was it was ours…for the year at least, which I’d paid for in advance with Crew’s money. For the first time in my life, I wouldn’t have to worry about the rent or mortgage being paid.
Although small, the apartment had everything Frankie and I needed. It was essentially two square rooms next to each other—the living space and the bedroom. A couch pressed against one wall, the TV directly across, which sat parallel to the galley kitchen. A well-used dinette oak table with only two chairs was nestled into the corner. The place had this wonderful lived-in mismatched vibe I could work with.
Frankie wrapped an arm around my waist, giving me a side hug. “We always said we’d move out together and we did.”
“It’s perfect,” I whispered over the emotion swelling at the base of my throat.
“It’s a work in progress, but I can’t wait to put our stamp on the place. Make it home.” By which Frankie meant leaving her shit all over the place.
She pulled me into the bedroom where two twin beds were wedged up against either side of the room, allowing just enough space to walk betwee n. “You take the one by the window,” Frankie offered, plopping down on the other one. “Not the worst I’d ever slept on,” she said with an impish grin, her face so bright I swore the freckles dusting her nose were glowing.
I strolled into the attached bathroom and flipped on the light. A tub, a sink, a toilet, and a mirror. Basic but essential.
“So, what do we do next? Unpack?” Her nose wrinkled at her suggestion. “Explore? Order takeout? Find the frat houses?” Her brows lifted in excitement. “Take a nap?” Turning on her side, she snuggled her cheek into the pillow. Frankie was literally down for anything.
I went to what would be my bed and sat on the mattress. It groaned slightly. “How can you possibly think of parties at a time like this?” We had so much to do, especially with the beginning of classes only days away.
With twinkling eyes, she sat up, folding her legs into a pretzel on the center of her bed. “Do you want to start the semester off responsible and boring or daring and fun?”
I gave her a dull glance. “What do you think?”
“Arie,” she groaned.
“How about we comprise. We order takeout, unpack until the food gets here, and then we go searching for the frat houses.” I knew the last would make her happy. “But we’re only looking. No touching.”
She held out her pinkie finger between our beds, her expression very serious. “Pinkie swear.”
Leaning a bit forward, I hooked mine with hers. “Pinkie swear.”
With our fingers still entwined, Frankie hauled me off my bed and onto hers. We fell onto our backs, giddy laughter filling my chest.
I wanted this to be the start of something new—happier times, and I did my best to ignore the twinge of pang in my chest. My heart still ached just a little less severe every day. It was easy to say I’d leave all my baggage in Fallen Oaks and quite another to make it happen. But that was the thing with heartache, it couldn’t be forced away.
T he first week at Whitley University went by in a whirlwind of unpacking, scoping out our classes, wandering the campus, looking for the best boba spot, attending parties, and soaking up college life. But most of all, I tried to stop myself from thinking of him. It worked some of the time, but during silent moments alone, my intrusive thoughts won.
Classes started Monday, and I didn’t feel ready. Or maybe it was more nerves. A part of me had a hard time accepting this was real.
I smacked my freshly glossed lips together and stuck the tube into my bag before seeking out Frankie. “First order of business…picking up our books and scouring the ads for a job,” I recited two items off my checklist.
“Aye-aye, Captain.” Frankie saluted me before returning to stare at the pile of clothes scattered over her bed. Only a few minutes ago, they’d been hanging in our shared closet.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I mumbled, my lips twitching.
Frankie smiled. Fully recovered, she looked good and had bounced back from a violent attack with an ease I lacked. The scars on her abdomen were still fresh but would fade over time. I hoped that would be true for any damage you couldn’t see on the flesh. Frankie excelled at covering her true feelings with snark and humor. “Where’s the bookstore?” she asked, tugging on what had to be the sixth top. This one was a cropped sweater.
“Across campus next to the library.”
Gathering her hair from under the knitted sweater, she let the auburn waves tumble down her back. “What are we waiting for, roomie? There’s an entire campus of new boys to discover.”
I shook my head unable to hide my grin. “I’ll let you study the male anatomy while I hit the books.”
“I can live with that.” She joked but Frankie was smart. She’d never been one of those students who had to try hard like me. It seemed almost unfair she had beauty and brains.
The sun had been playing peek-a-boo with the clouds all day, fluctuating between bright and gloomy. It was kind of a metaphor for my mood, but Frankie’s general love for life rubbed off on me when we were t ogether.
Before heading to the bookstore, we stopped to grab bubble tea from Cloud Tea , a before semester treat. Once school started, we’d be making boba at home. It was still hard to believe I had a place where I could make my favorite drink in the morning. Who was I?
Ice swirled in my glass as we walked on the college’s brick pathways. The air held the tiniest crisp to it, hinting that autumn lingered around the corner, and I found I craved the hoodie and sweatpants weather. I’d always been a summer girlie, but something about WU campus had me eager for the changing of seasons. I could imagine the trees changing colors like a sweep of an artist’s brush from lush green to deep or vibrant shades of gold, cranberry, and burnt orange. The grounds of Whitley were loaded with deciduous trees canopying the school. It wouldn’t be long until the grass would be blanketed in fallen leaves.
I took a deep breath, breathing it all in and appreciating how far I’d come when my dreams had seemed so far away.
Since I was lost in my thoughts, it took me a few paces to realize Frankie had come to a dead stop, and I turned around to see what the problem was. Her face had gone pale with a touch of annoyance and panic. “Oh shit,” she said.
My brows furrowed. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t get the chance to ask her what was wrong as another voice interrupted me.
“Quinn? Is that you?”