13. Aurora
AURORA
Ishould have faked a migraine and stayed home tonight.
But Maisie begged, Isabella nudged, and apparently I’m still dumb enough to think being around people might distract me from… everything.
So here I am, two days before Halloween, cutting across the quad with half the campus doing the exact same thing while the cold slices straight through my jeans.
It’s freezing as hell, and I’m already regretting every life choice that led me here, but I have to admit, the whole thing looks kind of cool.
String lights are wrapped around the trees, blue Colton U banners hang from the lampposts, and paper bats are hanging, flopping every time the wind hits them.
Front and center on the lawn, an inflatable screen is showing Scream, which almost makes freezing my ass off worth it. I slow without meaning to, watching Drew Barrymore pad around the kitchen, making popcorn while the phone rings.
Someone bumps my arm and I glance down, finally noticing just how packed the lawn is. People are everywhere—sprawled across blankets, huddled into lawn chairs, lined up at the food trucks parked off to the side.
I look over just in time to catch Ryan hooking an arm around Isabella and pulling her closer to him, his mouth brushing her ear.
My eyes drift toward Austin, standing a few feet away, trying to toss popcorn into Maisie’s mouth.
She misses every single one, popcorn flying everywhere and scattering all over the grass.
Austin just grins, sets the bucket down, and slides an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss that earns a round of whistles from the people nearby.
Maisie kisses him back anyway, her fists bunching in the front of his jacket like she doesn’t even hear them.
Like the rest of the world dropped away the second he touched her.
I hear a scoff beside me and I turn, finding Nathan watching them with a smirk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Those two are cute, aren’t they?” I nod toward Austin and Maisie, who’ve wandered off to a quieter patch of grass. Austin shakes out a blanket, drops it down, then reaches for her hand and helps her sit.
Something in my chest pulls too tight, too fast, and I look away.
Nathan turns his head, catching it. “Stuff like this is probably rough when your boyfriend’s miles away, huh?”
I stiffen slightly, my brows shooting up, hoping he doesn’t notice. But Nathan isn’t oblivious. His brow dips in confusion before he smooths it out, probably deciding not to push.
“Long distance sucks,” I say, swallowing down the truth.
I could tell him we broke up. God knows everyone else on this campus seems to already know. But I like that he doesn’t. I like having one normal conversation. One person who isn’t looking at me like I’m the girl who lost her mind and smashed a bottle in her cheating ex’s room.
My phone buzzes.
Speak of the fucking devil.
I don’t even bother checking it. I already know what it says. Chase begging. Apologizing. Promising me the sun and moon now that he’s finally run out of other girls to screw.
My stomach growls, loud enough that Nathan glances over, reminding me I haven’t really eaten anything today.
A laugh slips out of me. “I should probably go find food before I pass out.”
Nathan huffs out a laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting as he nods and heads off to sit down. I turn the other way and almost slip on a muddy patch of grass, catching myself at the last second. I blow out a breath and step onto a drier spot.
Yeah. I was not built for nature.
The smell of fried food hits me the second I get close, and my stomach growls even louder. God. I would do questionable things for a hot dog right now. I slip into line, folding my arms across myself as the wind hits me.
“Hey.”
I glance over my shoulder at the guy smiling down at me and take in his backward cap, grin, and sharp jaw.
I tilt my head. “Do I know you?”
“Holden,” he says, sliding up beside me in line. “I’m on the hockey team.”
Right. Freshman. I vaguely remember seeing him at games, usually somewhere near Logan and Austin.
“Ah,” I say, turning back toward the truck. “Rookie.”
“I mean… yeah.” He edges a little closer until we’re shoulder to shoulder. “Technically. But I’m more mature for my age.”
A laugh almost slips out, but I manage to hold it back. “Of course you are,” I mutter, folding my arms tighter when another gust of wind slices across my skin.
“Here,” he says, and then a hand lands on my waist.
I stiffen, looking down at his hand, then back up as he shrugs off his jacket.
“You have ten seconds to move that hand,” I say, arching a brow, “before I cut it off.”
He laughs, lifting both hands in surrender. “Got it. No touching. Just thought you looked cold. Want my jacket?”
“I’m good,” I say with a tight smile.
His gaze drops anyway, dragging over me, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Yeah,” he says, glancing back up at my eyes. “You definitely are.”
It might have made me smile if his eyes hadn’t spent half that sentence parked on my chest. I ignore him and step forward as the line finally starts moving.
“You ever seen Scream before?” he asks.
I keep my eyes on the menu board, scanning over prices. “Who hasn’t?”
He chuckles under his breath, completely unbothered by my dry tone. “Fair point. But if you get scared, you can hold my hand.”
I turn my head and catch his grin widening.
Does he really think that works on me?
“I’ll be fine,” I mutter, stepping up to the window the second the person in front of me moves.
Finally.
I step up to the window and lean in. “I’ll take a hot dog with everything on it. And a diet coke, please.”
The guy in the truck nods and starts loading it with onions, mustard, ketchup, jalapenos—every possible thing he can fit in the bun.
Holden keeps talking about his favorite horror movies, but I’m barely listening, too busy staring at the food while my stomach growls, reminding me I should’ve eaten earlier.
The vendor finally wraps the hot dog and holds it out, along with the can of diet coke. I reach for my bag, already digging around for my wallet, but before I can get it out, Holden leans in and slides his card across the counter.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, pausing with my hand still buried in my bag.
He shrugs and tucks his card back into his wallet, a smile pulling at his mouth. “My treat.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the hot dog and can from the vendor.
I’m not going to argue with someone who wants to buy me food. It’s not like I have anyone else paying for my meals.
Sure, guys have bought me plenty of drinks before—shots I never asked for, cocktails pushed into my hand after I already said I had a boyfriend.
But food is different. Guys usually buy food when they’re on dates, and since my boyfriend lived a thousand miles away, I never got to go on a date.
Whenever I’d see Chase, he’d barely get the door closed before trying to get me out of my clothes. I used to think it was romantic—how he couldn’t keep his hands off me.
God, I was such an idiot.
It hits me now, that sex was basically all Chase and I ever had.
We never went out to dinner. We never went to the movies.
We never did anything that looked remotely like two people actually wanting to spend time together.
I’d go to his room, we’d spend the weekend in his bed, and then I would leave.
He didn’t want me.
He just wanted my body.
They all do, a little voice in my head whispers in my head.
All they want is to fuck me.
Holden nudges my elbow and asks if I want to split churros too. I say yes—obviously—because I’m a slut for a sweet treat.
I head over to where everyone’s gathered on the grass with my hot dog in hand, and of course Holden follows. I don’t have the energy to argue, especially when he shrugs off his jacket and lays it on the grass, gesturing for me to sit.
My friends are all hanging out with their boyfriends and I’m… alone. So I lower myself onto the grass, crossing my legs, and crack open my diet coke. He drops down right beside me, one hand braced behind him, stretching his legs out.
My stomach growls again, so I unwrap my hot dog, the smell of grilled onions filling the air, but as soon as I take a bite, Holden lifts his hand in the air, waving at someone.
“Yo, Ellis. Over here, man!”
My spine goes rigid before I can stop it, and I freeze with a mouthful of hot dog.
Of course he’s here.
This is the universe punishing me. It has to be.
I force myself to swallow down my bite, feeling it drag down my throat while I keep my eyes fixed on the screen, watching as someone gets stabbed again.
My pulse betrays me anyway, pounding hard against my throat.
Don’t look. Don’t—
My eyes flick over anyway.
Cole’s cutting across the lawn, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and my stomach twists as the memory of his hands on my skin comes rushing back to me.
It’s been a little over a week since I let Cole fuck me, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to scrub any of it away.
I could blame it on the fact that he’s the first guy I’ve slept with after being with Chase for three years, but I’d be a filthy little liar.
His murderous stare locks onto mine and I swallow hard, but then a brunette tugs on his sleeve, dragging him onto one of the lawn chairs, and his eyes rip away from mine. She drops into his lap and his hand settles at her waist.
“Well… looks like he’s busy,” Holden says beside me with a chuckle.
For how hungry I was ten minutes ago, my appetite disappears completely. My stomach twists, and I wrap the rest of the hot dog back in its paper before setting it down on the jacket beside me.
The screen flashes as Ghostface appears, and somewhere nearby, someone jumps hard enough to send popcorn flying, but I’m barely paying attention to any of it. Holden’s hand slides to my waist again, and I force myself not to think about him, making myself focus on the movie instead.
I last maybe two minutes before I glance over, stiffening when I find him already watching me.