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“Hmm, it’s a mystery. We’ll have to keep our ears open for any gossip from the party. It was probably some random frat guy in a dark corner early on. Hey, another rite of passage, and one that I also partook in.”
Isabelle launched into a detailed description of the guy she’d made out with as the half-recalled kiss from last night replayed on an endless loop in my head. What the hell had happened?
Just to top off the worst few days in history, I was heading to the library later when I got a text message from an unknown number. I opened it up and stopped dead on the sidewalk.
Hey No. 8, I just wanted to let you know before the next tryout that we are reducing the no. of new recruits for the squad, and due to that, you won’t be advancing to the next round. Have a great year, and please try out again next year!
I stared at the message a little longer and then tucked my phone away. Of course. I was cursed to never get on the cheerleading team. I didn’t know why I thought I could change that. Shoving down the burning in my chest from the rejection, I continued toward the library.
There was a storm of emotion inside me, and honestly, I didn’t know how exactly it would burst out. I could scream, I could cry. I could laugh maniacally for a few hours. I could do all of them at once. The rejection from cheerleading felt like it just confirmed all the insecurities that plagued me constantly. I didn’t belong here. I couldn’t afford it. I wasn’t good enough. It was dumb to think I could be part of any of this like other people were. My head crowded with self-doubt and criticism. Water finds its level, and I was finding mine.
I trudged on toward the library. The hangover was making it harder than normal to push negative thoughts from my head. I just needed this day over. If I could make it through this day, everything would get better.
I was halfway to the library when I spied a familiar sandy head of hair at a coffee cart. I detoured his way. I’d been wondering how Isabelle’s cousin was, and I still had memory gaps from last night.
“Hey, Warner!” I touched his arm to get his attention.
He jumped, sloshing hot coffee over his wrist.
“Sorry! Let me get that for you.” I grabbed some napkins and dabbed at his sleeve.
“It’s fine. Just leave it,” he said quickly, glancing around. “Stop touching me,” he snapped.
I jerked back, dropping my hand. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to check how you’re feeling. Isabelle said you were attacked?”
He scoffed. “Seriously?” His face was a mess. He had two black eyes, a split lip, and a lot of bruising.
“Yes, seriously. Why wouldn’t I be asking you seriously?”
He looked around again, a hint of nervousness in his big bulky frame. “Whatever. I have to go.”
“Wait! I wanted to ask you about last night,” I said and followed him.
He was striding along the campus paths, and it was an effort to keep up. “What about it?”
I desperately didn’t want anything to have happened between us. I only realized it when I imagined actually kissing Warner. A shiver of disgust went through me. I wasn’t into it. Not at all. There was still only one man I’d ever really wanted, and I had no idea what was happening between us.
“Well, this is kinda embarrassing, but I can’t remember anything. Did something happen between us? I remember the bathroom—” I slammed into his back.
He’d stopped so abruptly, I hadn’t realized in time.
He turned around and scanned me. “Are you really asking me that? You want to get me killed?”
Dread formed in the pit of my belly. “What does that mean?”
He shook his head and glanced around before stepping closer. “Look, I don’t owe you shit, but Isabelle likes you, so consider this warning a favor. Get a new boyfriend. The one you have is a nutcase.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said slowly.
Warner chuckled, then grimaced when the movement pulled at his split lip. “Well, someone sure thinks they’re your boyfriend. He doesn’t have your best interests at heart, and you should know that. I’d want someone to warn my cousin, too, if she caught the interest of someone like him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, alarmed and confused.
Warner studied me for a moment and then nodded. “Oh, he’s good. Good at hiding it. Get any messages about cheerleading today?”
That dread in my belly morphed into furious fire. I nodded.
“Yeah, thank your not-boyfriend for that. Psycho Richie Rich.”
