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PIPER
It was happening again. Piper looked up at the tree branches crisscrossing the patio area of the coffee shop and rubbed her thumbs into the pressure points on the back of her hands in anticipation of a headache. She simply refused to witness whatever arrogant facial expression her now ex-boyfriend was wearing. If her emotions were as unforgiving as her lack of spatial awareness, they would compound and spill out in the form of rage. Unfortunately, her pent-up anger would probably just fizzle out while she ate ice cream later, and she would never think about Todd White again. If she could just blow up once, maybe word would get around campus and shitty guys would stop lining up to declare their feelings for her just to snatch them back a few months later. But she couldn’t fucking do it. It was blatantly clear that she was doomed to forever be the pleasant girl whom everyone could rely on for a smile. If she didn’t, it would only take someone two seconds flat to tell her she looked prettier when she did.
“Are you even listening to me, P?” Todd interrupted Piper’s train of thought with the nickname she had always hated. It had initially been a joke, like ha, ha, the first letter of your name is also a word for urine, but Todd continued to use it relentlessly, always laughing and acting as though it were a term of endearment or some inside joke between the two of them. As usual, she went along with it. Why rock the boat?
“I’m listening.” Piper offered Todd a tight smile.
“Good.” The undertone of his response said there should have been a “girl” at the end of his praise. If Todd was expecting her to stick out her tongue and wag her tail for a compliment, he would be a bit disappointed. Sorry, I didn’t bring my leash today, Piper thought.
Being a pushover didn’t mean Piper enjoyed degradation. It just meant she frequently let her opinions fall by the wayside and carefully chose which battles she fought, most of which just happened to be on behalf of other people, not herself.
“So, you understand why we have to go our separate ways. You’re a smart girl, so I’m sure you knew this wasn’t going to last forever.” Todd got up from his seat and shrugged down at her.
The way her exes always acted like Piper had somehow misinterpreted the relationship was beyond frustrating. There wasn’t much to misinterpret when Todd had said, verbatim, “I want to spend all my time with you” and “best sex of my life.” That was why when the guys Piper dated dumped her like used trash, claiming to have never felt a thing, she always swore up and down that she would be the dumper the next time. Yet, here she was, sitting in a public place, staring up at an ex who was just like the others after she’d wasted the entire summer with him. The words “it was fun, but I don’t see much of a connection anymore” were still ringing in her ears. And, really, she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t like she was in love with Todd. She had tolerated him at best. That was what she had liked about him: he was a human person who made her not so completely alone. A warm body she would never be at risk of falling in love with.
The “we need to talk” conversation always materialized after one of Piper’s “mental breakdowns,” as a previous ex-boyfriend had termed them. When guys realized they only liked her when she was happy, they’d leave. The root of Piper’s emotional turmoil could always be sourced back to one thing: her parents. She was decent at holding back her emotions, but occasionally something would trigger her memories and she’d find herself sobbing—not alone, like she preferred, but with someone who could never fathom or care about the devastation of losing both her parents. But who was she to expect understanding when she had never chosen her boyfriends for their listening capabilities?
The perfect guy would be someone with whom Piper could have a mutual agreement. A transactional relationship was the only kind that wouldn’t end up breaking her. Neither one of them would be in love, but they could warm the bed, get each other off, and go to the occasional party together. He would never ask why she sometimes froze up behind the wheel of a car or why she refused drinks at parties, and even when he inevitably found out through the grapevine about the drunk driver who had killed her parents, he’d never mention it. He would just leave her be. He could be that person who realized when she went missing and reported it to the authorities in a timely manner. No one had to be left dead and unattended in their apartment until someone noticed the smell. Unfortunately, any guy who wasn’t a walking red flag seemed to require love. And the red flag guys loved to proclaim what Piper already knew: no one liked her unless she was dolled up and smiling. Good girl, Piper. Good fucking girl.
“Yep. Totally understand.” Piper ground her teeth together. Anger wasn’t going to get her anywhere with Todd. If she lost her cool, he’d just end up telling the entire student body of Fletcher University that she was a crazy bitch. Finally having a blowout fight with one of her exes wasn’t worth having the word “crazy” always tacked on to her name.She had carefully curated her image to avoid the emotional turmoil that came with remembering anything painful. She redirected her thoughts when they were going somewhere unhealthy and replaced them with ambition and niceties. She did it now, too, just to cover her bases.
“I knew you would understand.” Todd grinned, his obnoxiously white teeth now looking like a wolf’s. Then, hovering over her with a sly smile wrapping his fangs, he nailed her with the kicker. “But you can feel free to hit me up anytime you want to take a roll in my sheets. We were always really good at that.”
Piper wouldn’t be hitting him up for any booty calls, late at night or otherwise. While Todd had proclaimed her to be his best sexual partner, she hadn’t orgasmed one singular time in his company. The urge to throw that in his face was a powerful one, but not powerful enough to follow through. Telling everyone that Todd White was bad in bed would probably get her on some sort of campus-wide blacklist. She wondered if there was a secret club out there somewhere made up of all the women Todd had slept with, like a support group for scorned and orgasmless women. She workshopped support group names while Todd continued spelling out exactly what he wanted from her.
The Perpetually Edged. Nope, that one didn’t work. Piper hadn’t even gotten close to edging. Never-O-land. They could be the lost boys of terrible sex. Scratch that—no one was flying anywhere with Peter Pan over the edge of anything. The Sisterhood of the Lackluster Man.
Todd smirked as he finished off his list of good deeds he wanted Piper to accomplish. Yet again, he was the only one who ever got to finish. “Remember that one night at that house party? We could do that again.”
“I think I’ll pass. I should focus on studying.” Why Piper felt the need to have a legitimate excuse not to sleep with him, she had no idea. Her internal voice, which was now just a mere whisper, was telling him to go fuck himself. The more passive part of her was already listing off a whole study guide for an upcoming exam in her business class.
“Always focusing on school.” Todd rolled his eyes and began to walk away, only looking back to offer some unwanted advice. “You should try being fun sometime. See ya around.”
In her last year of college, Piper was too close to the finish line to release the reins on her schoolwork, but Todd’s last barb before he left cut like a knife. She couldn’t win. She was either too perfect or too imperfect. What the hell did people want from her? That was it. Swearing off men, for real this time, was her only recourse. Piper got out her planner from her backpack and slammed it down on the table. The force rocked the break-up coffee that Todd had made her pay for on the rickety metal table, and the cup toppled over, directly onto the binding of her planner. The cheap plastic lid easily popped off and slid to the side, allowing the coffee to dump freely onto the table.
“Ugh!” Piper exclaimed and launched out of her seat. Her purple sundress was already a lost cause, a brownish stain soaking into the spot around her crotch. Lovely. The liquid dripped over the edge of the table until a hand swooped in from behind Piper and slapped a wad of napkins onto the puddle.
“Thank y—” Piper turned and came face to face with the one person who could possibly make this day worse and snapped her mouth shut to glare. Leonardo Diaz. He had his backpack casually slung over one shoulder as if he had just happened to pass by at the exact time she’d spilled her coffee everywhere, which was par for the course given how her day was going. The latte river had made its way around the haphazardly tossed napkins and was dripping over the edge of the table again. Leo’s white sneakers, the only bright thing about his outfit, carefully sidestepped the stream of coffee as he frowned at it like it had disobeyed a direct command to stay on the table. Everything else—his Henley, his pants, and his backpack—was as black as his soul, solidifying his perpetual storm cloud persona. The scowl he always wore sealed the deal.
After Piper learned that Leo would be attending Fletcher University alongside her, three years of hell ensued. The problem hinged on Fletcher’s renown for having the best arts programs in the entire state of Oregon. Piper was double-majoring in interior design and business because as soon as she graduated, she would eagerly be taking on the role of owner and CEO of Hartrick Designs, which her parents had grown from a family business to a flourishing hundred-employee company. She should have guessed that Leo would be working on his own Bachelor of Arts for something revolving around theatre or film given that he was self-important enough to pursue a career in the entertainment business. Any job that involved bossing people around and having a superiority complex would be the perfect fit. Plus, if it wasn’t perfect, Leo would just smash his foot into the shoe à la Cinderella’s evil stepsisters.The shoe, incidentally, did fit, and Leo became the talk of Piper’s hometown when he won a big, fancy nationwide scholarship from some famous director. All that bravado and confidence was probably where Leo’s secondary business major came into play and how he and Piper ended up in at least one class together every single year. To put it bluntly, she fucking hated him and was pissed that after already dealing with him enough for two lifetimes in high school, the universe was hell-bent on torturing her more.
They had originally met in Spanish class their junior year, where Piper got stuck with Leo’s condescension and snickering all year long. She had been so used to school coming easy that her difficulties in Spanish threw her for a loop. The entire school year her parents had died was a blur, but she would never forget Leo tossing around ridicule like his life’s purpose was to critique everything she did. His haughty attitude was the stuff of nightmares, not to mention that his personality seemed to be the exact antithesis of hers. Piper always cared what people thought. Leo, on the other hand, didn’t give a single fuck what anyone thought and steamrolled over every person he encountered. Piper meticulously ironed her clothes. Leo made little effort in his appearance, and yet every hot-blooded woman in the vicinity seemed to gawk over his tanned skin, smoky eyes, and sharp tongue. His hair was a wild mop of dark curls he never tried to tame, and it didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t tower over anyone. What Leo lacked in height, he made up for in sheer will. Spanish constantly slipped from his mouth—usually in a grumbling undertone when directed at her—and, for some stupid reason, that made even Piper’s best friend, Thea, go weak in the knees. Piper had already dealt with enough assholes who hid their misogyny to deal with one who openly hated her from the start.
“You gonna finish your sentence, princesita?” Leo asked. The nickname he always used for Piper came out right on cue like he was trying to win a prize for irritating her.
“Sure. Thank you so much for appearing like a surprise zit before school photos. You want a gold star?” Piper shot back.
“Careful, someone might notice you’re a little ungrateful.” Leo cocked his head and continued with an evil lilt, “I know you just got dumped, but it’ll really ruin the whole My Little Pony-glitter-rainbow vibe you try to give off if you don’t hand over all of your gold stars immediately.” The asshole actually held out his hand, palm up, like he was ready to receive something.
Piper’s face turned beet red. She hadn’t realized anyone, let alone Leo, had overheard her conversation with Todd. Snatching her planner from the table, she shoved it into her backpack, no longer caring about the moisture clinging to the cover. It was a mess she would have to deal with when she got home. She quickly swiped at the coffee with the wad of napkins and collected her empty cup.
“Can I help you with something, or are you just pretending to be a knight in shining armor with napkins I could have easily gotten myself?” Piper ground out.
“Fine. I guess gold stars are only for douchey frat boys.” Leo’s hand fell away, and he smirked. “The gold stars you give are fool’s gold, anyways.” It was the running insult with him. He’d call her fake, and then she’d point out the obvious: he was a dick.
“Have a nice day, Leo.” Piper turned up her nose at him and stormed toward the nearest stone staircase, disposing of her trash on the way. The entire campus was built into the side of a hill, so there was no lack of stairs anywhere. Turn a corner? Staircase. Walk two feet? Staircase. Piper’s naturally muscular legs had gotten even sturdier since attending Fletcher. There seemed to be a lack of the stereotypical “Freshman 15” on campus as well, what with all the cardio everyone had to do just to get to class.
“Go F-U,” Piper muttered as her thigh and calf muscles worked to get to the first landing. With a jolt, she reared back, suddenly yanked by an unknown force. She stumbled a bit before her ribcage met the metal railing on her left, and she winced as she grabbed on to stay upright. If balance and spatial awareness were college courses, she’d fail every time.
