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Charlotte beams. “You think he has any cute friends?”
“I’m certain he has cute friends. His frat brothers are going to be there, and I’ve seen him talking to them on campus.”
“I love me some hot sophomore frat boys,” she croons, which makes me laugh. “Now that we have our plans for the evening settled, I’m going to grab an early lunch.” She slaps her hands on her thighs and gets to her feet. “You in?”
“Nah. I’m good. I ate a bagel right before class. I think I’m just going to hang out for a bit. Mind if I stay here instead of my room?”
“Is Cate being creepy?” I flash her a look that says,What do you think?“Want me to bring you anything back?”
I shake my head no as she grabs her meal card and room key, then heads out, saying hello to some of the girls down the hall on her way.
With a sigh, I settle down onto her bed and slide my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through a string of unanswered texts. One of them is from one of the girls back home asking for an update, and I can’t help but feel a small pang of guilt at the absence of emotion. It’s not that I don’t miss any of my friends from Riverside, I do, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t kept them at arm’s length. I never really got close to any of them, not in the way I wish I could have. Not like other girls. I didn’t have sleepovers on the weekends or FaceTime to pick out our outfits for school. I didn’t go shopping at the mall with girlfriends or order pizza and hang out at parties. It’s hard to let loose and get close to someone when you’re harboring what feels like amassive secret—when you feel more like a stranger to them than a friend.
And now that I’m gone, well . . . leaving Riverside felt a lot like closing a chapter on my life, one I knew I wouldn’t exactly miss. It was like the moment I left, a door closed and another one opened. One I actually wanted to step through.
Ann Arbor is my chance at a new life, a fresh start. Leaving Riverside meant putting everything that happened there in the rearview mirror. It was the last bit of closure I needed to fully and finally move on. No more living in fear. No more hiding. No more pretending that nothing ever happened while everyone around me thrived.
Though that long-ago night during sophomore year seems like a lifetime ago, as long as I stayed in Riverside it would forever haunt me. It would always be in the back of my mind like a nightmare I can’t shake. I’ve relived those moments in my dreams more times than I can count. And I was tired of wondering whohewas. The fear that followed me left me exhausted, a shell of the person I used to be. For a long time, I was always looking over my shoulder. I jumped at the slightest touch. And the only way around it was to withdraw and slowly build armor around myself.
But it’s not like that here. I can do anything, be anyone.
I can make friends and date without anxiety. When I meet a boy who shows an interest, I won’t have that crippling doubt it could secretly behim. I can finally breathe again, trulylive.
I may not have had the high school experience I wanted for myself, but I can have the college experience I’ve always dreamed of. And I’ll be damned if I let Jace ruin it for me.
I laugh as I pull yet another garment out of my wardrobe and Charlotte grimaces. It’s rare Cate leaves our room, but when she does, I totally take advantage. “What’s wrong with this one?” I ask, staring at the yellow sundress.
“I mean, it’s super cute,” Charlotte says, giving me side-eye, “for a Sunday church dress.”
I narrow my eyes at her before I turn my attention back to the dress. Okay, so maybe the hem is a little long for clubbing. But it’s flowy and loose and comfortable . . .
My shoulders slump as I toss it on the bed with the other rejects. “Okay, you’re right. Do I have nothing suitable to wear?”
“I mean, nothing that’s club-worthy. Don’t you have any cute tank tops or anything?”
I turn back to my wardrobe and stare into the black pit of clothes, already knowing the answer to her question. My garments aren’t completely hopeless. I have plenty of cute things: tons of super cute sweaters and leggings, jeans, and flowy summer dresses, but none of them show much in the way of skin or are what most would consider conventionally sexy. Instead, they’re feminine and modest, a product of not wanting to draw attention to myself.
When I went shopping to prepare for the summer semester here, I only bought a few new things, focusing on fun items for my dorm room instead. But now, I regret not taking the time to pick out more clothes.
How can I have a clean slate when I’m working with the same material? Clothes are a reflection of one’s person, and if I want to date and flirt and have fun and act like anormaleighteen-year-old, dressing like a school teacher isn’t doing me any favors.
“How about this?” Charlotte jumps up from her chair and darts across the hall. After a few seconds, she returns from her own wardrobe holding a silk purple bodysuit with thin straps and a plunging neckline. “And you can pair it with these,” shesays, crossing the room and snagging my dark skinny jeans—the tightest ones I own—off the hanger. “Add those black strappy sandals you have with the heels, and Stan the Man isn’t going to know what hit him.”
I cock my head, eyeing the outfit Charlotte holds out in front of herself. My gut reaction is to say no way. Charlotte is shorter than me with a smaller chest, which means the stretchy fabric will fit like a second skin, with a neckline that’ll show far more boob than I’m comfortable with. I hate drawing attention to myself, particularly attention to my body, but I also know this is a hurdle I need to get over. I’m done hiding myself away like the fine china my mother only ever dusts off for holiday meals. I want to be bold. Comfortable in my skin. I want to feel free to wear whatever the hell I want just because I can, even if it’s only to make myself feel good.
I want Stanley’s jaw to drop when he sees me.
So, I snatch the outfit from Charlotte’s grip and grin. “It’s perfect.”
Thirty minutes later, we walk through the doors of Bradd’s, and I want to turn right back around. I’m so intimidated. Music blasts through the small club. It’s crowded, and from the looks of it, the demographic is fairly young, spanning from college-aged to mid-twenties. Other than the crowded dance floor, everyone is dispersed around the club with the majority of people at the bar or standing in groups. A small sprinkle of patrons are seated at the tables flanking the perimeter.
I take a step further inside, trying to ignore the ball of nerves fisting in my gut as my eyes scan the room in search of Stanley. The bar is closest to us with the dance floor on the opposite end,but I see no sign of him when I check my phone and read his text. “He says they’re standing off to the left at the far end of the bar.”
“Is that them?” Charlotte points.
I turn, glancing to where she’s pointing at the same time I slide my phone back into my pocket, and freeze. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.”
I see red. My vision blurs with fire pumping through my veins, because Jace is already here, and by the looks of it, he’s somehow become BFFs with Stanley and his friends in the short amount of time they’ve likely been here.
