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Looking around our dorm, I feel a little burst of the same pride I felt on my first day. We still don’t have any posters, but we hung up strings of little white Christmas lights, and everything is super festive and chill. It’s almost a relief coming back to that dorm at the end of each day.
I don’t know if Leslie and I would be best friends if we met under other circumstances, but since fate put us together as roommates, we’ve actually gotten pretty close. We talk and laugh, order pizza, and do all the things that college girls are supposed to do. If this is any indication of the future, then the future is looking bright.
Okay, I guess I’m really trying to be optimistic, and as my psychology class is teaching me, having the right mindset is everything. But honestly, I’m still getting bullied from the boys. The reason why I can maintain a level of optimism is because it hasn’t progressed much. There are some taunts here and there, little notes left on my desk and stuff like that, but it’s nothing like what happened in high school. Every day, I try to remain focused on creating the life I want, regardless of whether the Icons try to get in the way.
By far, the hardest part about my college experience so far is Anthropology 101. The seats Professor Sykes assigned to us on that first day are our permanent seats, and that means I’m sitting next to Reese every day, with Trent right in front of us. Actually, I’m grateful as hell that I can’t see Trent’s face, because it might give me a better idea of what is going on in his mind. And I don’t want to know.
But that’s the only lucky thing that’s happened in that class, because sitting next to Reese is pure torture.
I can’t describe the feelings he brings up in me. Before everything got bad in high school, Reese was the one I knew I could trust. Trent got crazy from time to time, and West was so brooding and withdrawn, but Reese was the one who could always draw me out.
He was certainly the one I was most relaxed around, and I found refuge in his gorgeous green eyes. After all three of them turned on me, a more sadistic side of Reese came out, one I didn’t see coming. It was shocking, made all the worse because I had truly trusted him.
I shared my deepest secret with him. Something no one else in the world knows.
But sitting next to him in class, those old feelings of trust bubble to the surface from time to time—and even more horrifyingly, attraction. I was always deeply drawn to Reese on a physical level, and all of those feelings have returned and seem more intense than ever. Even though it’s only been a couple of years, he looks taller, broader, more masculine, and I catch myself glancing sideways to look at him in class way too often. He does the same, and this back and forth is making it seriously difficult to concentrate.
Why do I feel so guilty for enjoying the way he looks at my body? In fact, this guilt has lived with me for a couple years now. How can I desire someone who has been so awful? But sometimes I wonder if he’s not as cruel as he acts. Maybe he’s just going along with what the other guys are doing? There’s a pack mentality with the Icons that can be explained by both my Psychology and Anthropology classes. They’re like a pack of wolves, and I’m determined to escape them and thrive.
“Deep dish again?” Leslie asks, bursting through the dorm room door and throwing her backpack on her bed.
“Actually, I’m going to see my dad tonight.” I sit up on the bed, shaking off my thoughts. The best thing about having a roommate is that she usually arrives to distract me just as my thoughts start to spiral.
“Bummer. I guess I’ll have to eat an entire pizza by myself. Again.” She pats her flat stomach and waggles her eyebrows.
“I don’t know where you put it,” I say with a laugh.
“I’ve got a hollow leg.”
Leslie picks up her phone and calls Dominos, which is on speed dial. I sit on my bed and smile to myself. There will be no more worrying about the guys tonight. Whenever I have dinner with my dad, I feel safe, and I’m reminded of my intention to make something of myself.
Head down. Work hard. Show them they can’t win.
As I ride my bike through the winding, sunbaked streets to my dad’s house, I force a smile to my face. I’m not going to let Reese, West, and Trent get under my skin. They did for too long, and for that brief time after high school, I was able to shake off the memory of them. Now, it seems like they’ve managed to get under it once more. I can’t let that happen. Dammit, I know I’m better than this. I’ll put my best foot forward for my father.
“Dad?” I say, opening the door to his new house and stepping in.
“Hey, Ems,” he calls from the kitchen, and the smells of dinner waft out along with his voice. It’s probably chicken, which is Dad’s favorite. He always smothers it with barbecue sauce. “Come on in, hon!”
I make my way to the kitchen and marvel at just how cool dad’s new house is. It’s very chic and modern, which is just my dad’s style. From the bright smile on his face, I’m guessing that being back at Wex-Tech is going well.
“It smells delicious.” I lift my nose into the air and sniff as I cross the large kitchen.
Dad leans down and kisses me on the forehead, which always makes me smile. I’m a bit of a daddy’s girl, I have to admit. And for this reason, I could never tell him about what those guys did to me in the past. He doesn’t own a gun, but Da
d would certainly go out and buy one if he knew. I sit on a stool in the kitchen and watch as he chops up a salad.
“I’m trying a new recipe,” he says, putting his finger into a bowl that looks like another incarnation of his famous barbecue sauce, which he insists on making from scratch.
“Oh, yum. I’m starved.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He points at me, then claps his hands in front of him like it’s game-time.
I chuckle. “You seem happy.”
“Of course I am! What’s not to be happy about?” Dad says, looking around the kitchen like it’s the greatest place on earth.
It dawns on me that I haven’t seen dad this happy or relaxed in a long time. It’s just been him and me for years now, since I was twelve and mom was lost in the accident. During those years when he was doing his best to raise me, I could tell he was struggling and not happy much of the time, but he tried to keep up a brave face. I don’t think he liked his job at the time either, because he claimed it didn’t pay enough.
