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Eve: Hi. It’s me. Eve, that is. I got your number from Colette. I didn’t manage to see you before you got sent away. I’m sorry. I wanted to come.
Eve: I know you’re probably mad at me. I’m sorry. I wanted to thank you for what you did that night. You protected me, and now you’re hurt. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt because of me.
Eve: Okay, I get it. I deserve the silent treatment. But I’m still grateful and I still hope you get better fast. College starts in a few weeks, and it’s a fresh start for all of us. I hope you’re doing okay and healing.
Eve: I know you’re speaking to Asher every day, so I know your phone is working. You could at least give me a single reply to let me know you’re getting these messages…I’m worried about you.
Beckett: Eve?
Eve: Finally! Yes?
Beckett: Since you’re clearly dumb as fuck at interpreting messages, or a lack thereof, let me make it clear. Don’t mistake charity for feelings. I never want to speak to you again. Leave me the fuck alone. You see me in the hall, walk the other way. Got it?
Eve: Got it. Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay and I’m sorry.
Eve: Beckett?
Eve: Okay. Really got it this time.
Eve
It was here.
The first day of college.
I’d finally made it. After an endless summer of double shifts, and helping my mom, and the intensely terrifying start to the break, I’d arrived at HHU. I’d survived it all.
One of the hardest parts to survive had been the way Beckett fucking Anderson had taken up half my head space all summer. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It didn’t help that he read my messages and ignored me for weeks. Was there anything more annoying than someone just not replying? It made me feel like my life was at a standstill, and I couldn’t move forward until he acknowledged my concern and thanks. In the end, he had, in the cruelest way possible. Given that the intimate moment we’d shared had replayed in my dreams nearly every single night since it happened, confirmation that I was alone in treasuring that moment was a bucket of ice water over my head.Charity.He’d called it charity. A pity fuck for the virgin. It burned my pride to ashes.
He didn’t care. He hated me, even more than before. He never wanted to speak to me again. I had no idea why I’d thought for even a second that something might have changed permanently between us. He was still him and I was still me. Oil and water.
After his message, I resolved to put him out my mind, and never even mentioned any of the failed visit or messages to Ash or Lily. I tried my best to shove him from my thoughts and somewhat managed it. People said that you never forgot your first time; I hoped that wasn’t true in my case. Time would tell. I got a birth control implant, so I’d never be rushing to get emergency contraception again, and got on with my life.
Focusing on my excitement to start college had helped. I even had my new sneakers on.
There was a nip in the air, the beginning of fall, as I headed up the stone steps to my dorm, excitement buzzing in my veins. Sure, my building was right on the edge of campus, no-man’s-land, near the football field and ice rink, but it was free, and I already loved it.
Coach Eric had dropped me off, along with my suitcase and two little boxes of my possessions, in front of the dorm and continued on to drop off Lily. Her building was deep in the bustling heart of the residential side of campus, and I planned to visit her there a lot.
The door to the dorm was propped open, and students were coming and going. I headed in, looking for my room. Sure, it was a little shabby and run-down, but that was part of the college experience, wasn’t it? I was determined not to let it bother me.
My room was at the end of the first-floor landing. I put my box down and knocked before sticking my head in.
“Hello?”
The room was tiny, barely fitting two single beds with space to walk between them. A girl was flopped on her stomach on one of the beds. She glanced up when I came in.
“Hi. I’m Eve. I think I’m your roommate.” I waved toward her. Crap, when did I last make a new friend? I’d forgotten how scary it could be.
The girl sat up and waved back. “Isabelle. Nice to meet you. I thought your name was going to be Shelley.”
I dropped my box onto the unclaimed bed. “Shelley?”
Isabelle pointed to a piece of paper lying on the empty desk beside my bed. “The room assignment sheet says Shelley.”
I picked up the paper and checked it. She was right. The paper did say Shelley.
Isabelle waved her paper; her name was clearly stamped on it. “I got one, too.”
