Chapter 16 Amy
And because I knew I’d be stepping out of my comfort zone, I decided to wear a power outfit and sweat out all my nervous energy with a two-hour workout.
By the time I knocked on the door, I was feeling confident and ready for whatever the night would throw my way, but now that I’m sitting here on the couch, sandwiched between Lewis and his closest friends, I’m getting something of a reality check.
“Come on, Hitman. At least pretend like you’re having fun.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Conley.”
“Try harder, then. Because if this is you having a good time, I’d hate to see what you look like taking a crap.”
“That never happens.”
“Because you shit rainbows?”
“Got it in one.”
Best. Night. Ever. Yay yay yay!
The conversation is stacked high with anecdotes I don’t know, stories I don’t share. Like this Becca chick, who just rolled up with her dog. I slap an interested look on my face, like I’m really engaging with it all. Living my best life, here.
I swig my wine, studiously ignoring Lewis, who’s staring at me for some weird reason.
“They’re actually pretty nice girls, you know. Carrie, Amelia, Becca, and Lois, I mean. At first, they freaked me out, but now that I know them better? I almost kind of like them.”
He’s trying to help me out, I know—but it all just feels so damn awkward. My friends are back in New York, and I never had to sell them who I was. I never had to hide who I was, either. But things are different here—I feel out of step, all weird and angled, like a steak lover at a vegan convention.
Those four make being a girl look like a breeze—laughing and chatting away like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Next to them, I’m like some kind of mindfuck Rubik’s Cube.
I’ve never felt so out of place in my life.
Instead of feeling bored, like I expected to feel, I find myself ruminating, overthinking every micro interaction.
For the first time in my life, I actually want to be like them—and that depresses me.
I drain my wine, my gaze sweeping the living room.
It’s twice the size of mine. I had no idea they did dorms this big, and I’m wondering whether that’s because the Campus Drivers get some kind of VIP deal or because Lewis and his friends come from money.
I hope it’s the former—not because I give a shit about special privileges, or anything, but because at least that way I wouldn’t feel worlds apart from my mentor.
I still have no idea who Lewis really is, which is part of what makes it all so exciting and raw.
“Wild, huh?”
I turn in my seat. Lois has just snuggled up beside me on the couch.
“What is?”
“This place, I mean. It’s epic. First time I came by was last Thanksgiving, and my mind was blown. At the time I was homeless, too, so you can just imagine the FOMO.”
“Homeless?”
I straighten in my seat. I would never have imagined that—she looks like the kind of girl who has her shit together.
“Yeah, it’s kinda a long story. I’ll tell you about it next time.”
Next time?
She flashes me a warm smile. “You live on campus?”
“No, farther south—with my sister and her partner. And my nephew,” I add.
“How old?”
“He’s six.”
Carrie and Amelia collapse onto the sofa to my left.
“Coming through, Lois! We want to get to know the only Campus Driver with boobs, too!”
I’m trapped in a gaggle of girls, and though I really want to shove them away from me, I know I can’t.
Play nice—remember?
“Don’t scare her,” Lois warns her friends. “Because you can be scary, queen. Remember what a freak you were just a few weeks back?” She shoots me a look. “She was a friendophobe.”
“Who blackmailed people,” Amelia adds.
Carrie brushes back a lock of blond curls.
“Hey, that was then! I saw how you smashed Lewis’s face into your car, and that was when I thought to myself—I wanna be that girl’s BFF.
Even though I hate the idea of a bestie, deep down.
It feels too much like a part-time job—it’s hard enough having to be Donovan Wolinski’s girlfriend. ”
“Rein it in, Carrie.”
“Did I make an oopsie?”
Manic pixie dream girl vibes.
She tucks her legs underneath her. “What’re you studying?”
“Mechanical engineering.”
“Oh my God, she’s perfect!”
Help me, somebody… Anybody…
My eyes drift over to Lewis—standing by the window, talking to two dudes. I reach for the wine bottle and pour myself a fresh glass.
“So, was it a love-at-first-sight kinda situation with you guys?” Carrie asks just as I’m leaning back, and I’m so shocked by the question, I spurt out my mouthful.
What the actual fuck? What does that even mean? Am I really that transparent?
“What kind of fucked-up question is that?” I splutter.
“So, that’s a yes, then?”
She puts her hands together in prayer, her eyes brimming with hope.
What is wrong with this girl?
“No.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s too bad.”
Lois is giggling to herself, and I can’t figure out what the punch line is.
“We were hoping the dumbass would get himself a girlfriend before we graduate. Before it’s too late to save him,” she adds.
“And you would’ve been perfect. You would’ve whipped his ass into shape, I know it.
I was hoping you’d fall in love with him so hard and fast that you wouldn’t have time to even think it through. ”
She just described my exact situation.
“Because that’s his only hope, honestly,” she continues. “Get the girl quick, before she realizes what she signed up for.”
“Is he really that bad?”
She brings a finger to her chin. “If I say no, is there a chance you could still fall madly in love with him?”
“Negative.”
I glance at her, praying she actually buys my bullshit. The worst part about this whole conversation is that the more she gives me her spiel, the closer I want to get to Lewis, and I can’t tell who’s crazier—me or Carrie.
“How come I feel my ears burning?”
There’s a soft give behind me as Lewis places his hands on either side of my shoulders, hovering just above me.
He crept up so quietly, I didn’t even realize.
I keep my face blank—anything to hide my jitters.
Whatever you do, don’t look at his forearms. If I turn my head now, my cheek will brush his skin, and…
“You must be psychic,” Carrie beams, “because we were just discussing micropenises!”
“You’re a funny woman, Wolinski. You should be onstage!” He looks down at me. “Don’t listen to her, Amy. Carrie just can’t handle the fact that she’s obsessed with me.” He winks at her. “And she knows she’s full of shit. She’s been lucky enough to see my dick up close.”
I clench my jaw, but when Carrie stuffs her fingers in her ears and pretends to puke, I feel myself relax.
“The memories… So triggering!” she shrieks.
Lois laughs. “Guess I missed that episode!”
“It was totally aboveboard,” Lewis starts, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze. “I went to go pee. Didn’t shut the door. She just burst in like a wild animal before I had time to put it away.”
“Interesting.” I arch an eyebrow at him.
This some kind of girl-in-shower-peeing kink?
“I’ll never forget the pain,” Carrie says sadly.
“I’ll never forget those tears of joy in your eyes.”
“Those were tears of trauma.”
“Makes sense.” He nods. “You do have a lot of issues.”
I glance back and forth between them, intrigued as to who’ll get the last word. I actually like how Carrie puts Lewis in his place, I realize. It’s obvious that she does like him, deep down, and I’m relieved to see there’s nothing more between them. What’s mine is mine.
“This is just how they roll,” Lois whispers.
Before I know it, a fluffy ball of fur is squirming in my lap.
“Hey, you…”
“Sorry!” Becca perches across from us. “Come here, boy!”
“It’s all good—I like him.” I look up, smiling. “What’s his name?”
“I have no idea!”
“You still haven’t agreed on a name?” Lois laughs.
“No. I’m still in love with ‘Becker’—you know, like ‘Becca’ plus ‘Carter.’ ”
Carter wanders over with Lane and Adam, shooting us a grin. “Hey, the dog was my Christmas gift. I should get to choose!”
“We’re not calling him Carter Junior, baby.”
“What about—”
“And no, we’re not calling him Boner, either.” Becca glares at him.
Amelia shudders. “That is so gross. I’m team Becker.”
These people are insane, but I find myself snorting with laughter, smiling when the puppy looks up at me, one ear cocked. Baby Boner is adorable, I have to admit.
I spot Donovan hovering by the front door, grinning ear to ear.
“Guys, meet my trainee. Malcolm, meet everybody.”
He gestures at us to make space, and as the guy is returning all the waves and smiles, I give him a quick once-over.
Wonder what he drives… I’m pretty good at making an educated guess, and with his spiked hair and Cup Noodles vibe, my money’s on a fifties Ford.
It’s like each of the guys is rocking his own decade.
Lane, for example, with his perma scowl and old Camaro—pure sixties, right there.
“Why are you staring at Malcolm?” Lewis asks.
Subtle, man. Real subtle.
All eyes are suddenly on me.
“The idea is you guys become friends, you know…”
“Guess she was picturing me naked.”
“Actually, I was picturing what you drive,” I say.
Malcolm winks at me. “You can tell just by checking me out?”
“Oh my God, this guy was born to be a Campus Driver!” Carrie screams into a pillow. “Why am I not surprised Don picked him?”
“Because he’s perfect.” Don nods approvingly, before turning to me. “So? Hit us with it!”
“She’ll never guess,” Malcolm says. “I literally just bought it.”
“A Ford.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
Slam dunk, baby.
Donovan starts clapping. “Nice!”
“Lucky guess.” Malcolm scowls. “I mean, she had a chance in—”
“I’m not done,” I continue. “You like to stand out; you like to make an impression—even if it costs you. The clothes you wear, even the way you do things in bed… You like being different. And you own it.”