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I hate that Kodiak, who used to be the answer to calming my attacks, now incites them. I hate that he affects me at all, and that I don’t affect him.
“You and me? We’re toxic together.” I rub my temples and squash the memories, packing them into the box in my head where I store all the things I don’t want.
The worst part is, he wasn’t wrong then, and he isn’t now. Five minutes trapped in a car with him, and I’m already a mess. Thinking I’d be able to handle seeing him again was stupid. If I’d stayed at home for one more year, he’d have graduated by the time I got here, and I wouldn’t be dealing with any of this.
I make sure I have my contacts case and a spare pair of glasses. It’s a lot easier to find them when I can actually see more than a blur. I have forty-five minutes before my next class. I toss a few granola bars into my backpack so I have something to snack on and find my car keys downstairs on the floor under the mail slot. At least Kodiak didn’t leave them in the ignition. I nab them from the mat and lock up behind me.
My stomach somersaults as someone steps out onto the front porch three doors down, which incidentally is where Kodiak happens to live with my cousin BJ—short for Balls Junior—and Quinn Romero. Quinn and Kodiak play hockey for the college team, as do a lot of the other guys who live on this street. So basically, I live on hockey row with a bunch of guys I’m related to—apart from Quinn and Kodiak, the latter of whom I loathe with the fire of a thousand burning yeast infections.
I’m instantly relieved the person on the front porch isn’t Kodiak, or one of my cousins. It’s just some girl. Probably a puck bunny, which is another thing I’m going to have to get used to again. Last year was a nice break from my brothers and their gaggle of endless girls.
I can only imagine what it would have been like if I’d come last year. River moved in with Maverick and my oldest brother, Robbie, and even I can admit my brothers have good genes and are easy on the eyes. This place probably had a revolving door of girls. So nasty. Robbie’s now spending a year abroad, working on his master’s, and I took his room.
River’s football cleats are on the floor in the back seat, which accounts for the aroma of stinky feet in my car. I’m not sure how I missed it earlier—other than I was too busy being mortified. I pick them up by the laces and walk around the back of the house so I can leave them in the garage, which smells like sweat and stale sports equipment. However, there is a separate washer and dryer out here for their crap.
When I return to my car, the girl who was on Kodiak’s front porch is strutting down the sidewalk. She’s wearing heels, tiny shorts, and a crop top that barely covers her underboob. Her neck is dotted with purple suction marks, made all the more obvious on account of her haphazard ponytail. She’s wearing earbuds, and apparently she’s on a call and has no idea how loud she’s being.
“Oh my God, you will never guess whose bedroom I was just in!” She barely takes a breath before screeching. “Kody Bowman, bitch! And oh em gee, he’s so f’ing hot up close.” She snaps her gum. “I know, right? And the best part? There’s a party on Friday night, and we are so going.” She glances in my direction, giving me a once-over before dismissing me as irrelevant. “I heard the whole team is gonna be there. It’ll be a free for all.”
My stomach feels like a lead weight has dropped into it. I shouldn’t be the least bit surprised that Kodiak humiliated me, made me feel like a bag of shit, and then went back to his place and hooked up with some random girl five minutes later.
I don’t want it to hurt.
But it does.
The nice boy who protected me, stood up for me, who honestly and truly cared is long gone, and in his place is a man I have no interest in knowing.
I watch the girl’s retreating form and realize this is going to be my life this year. I wonder if I can still get on a list for the dorms.Chapter FiveLet Me Bury You in Crap
Lavender
Present day
WHEN I GET back to campus, all the parking lots are full. It takes half an hour to find a damn spot, so I have no time to grab coffee or food before my next class, which happens to be psychology. I’m well versed in things like cognitive behavioral therapy, so this class should be okay—except for group assignments. I hate those, because it often means talking to, and working with, people I don’t know. Josiah was an anomaly this morning. I don’t usually make friends easily because I can be shy and quiet and people mistake that for standoffishness. Hence, the majority of my friend base is made up of my extended family.
