AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Do not let the tiger out, Morgan. Don’t do it.
My mouth opens on its own, and my eyes flutter against my strong will as I fight to keep my words inside.
“Hey, let’s compare schedules.” It’s as if James senses I need someone to redirect things. My mouth snaps shut, and I sit up tall as he pulls his schedule from his pocket and flattens the paper on the table. We all lean forward to look it over. I read through it optimistically, hoping for a class with him. Not only do we not have any of the same classes, but from a quick assessment it seems we are on opposite ends of the campus at all times. I hide my disappointment by popping a bendy straw in my soda and chewing on the end as I sip my Sierra Mist. I’m pretty sure that’s the universe’s way of telling me this one’s off limits.
And that’s when I notice the flicker in his gaze as Lily defends his selection of pottery as his fine art class.
“I’ll make you a hot chocolate mug,” he says, giving her a smile that is bigger than the one I got in the food line. A different smile. The one he gave me was because I genuinely made him laugh. But this smile . . . it’s because he’s interested. In her. Not me.
I suck up a big gulp, letting the carbonation burn the back of my tongue and clean out my throat as it bubbles its way down. It chokes me for a breath, and I cough. Brooklyn pushes her water bottle toward me, but I shake my head and wave her off. If I wanted to take another drink, I’d just put my damn straw in my mouth. And yeah, water is probably smarter. And sure, that tickle is persistent, and I am going to cough again right . . . now. But I don’t want her help.
I form a fist and press it to my lips, shutting my eyes and willing my throat to calm the fuck down. Does my body not get that I am intently listening to Lily and James make tutoring plans so they can spend time together.
Alone!
A low growl leaves my mouth behind my hand as I attempt to clear my throat without drawing more attention, but it only makes the choking sensation worse. Bless Theo for timing his moody boy fit to right this second. I cup my entire face and cough hard, the kind that makes my eyes water and my cheeks heat, just as Theo storms away from the table. He’s clearly pissed that Lily and James are flirting and making plans, regardless of the aloof tough guy act he’s putting on. If I were Anika, I’d march after him and give him sage advice that would somehow encourage him to come crawling back to Lily, ready to be honest and apologize. But I’m not Anika. And I’m choking.
Without warning, I’m on my feet, and the same warm hand that I shook a moment ago is splayed out across my sternum. Even if I weren’t choke-coughing, I lost my breath at the sensation of my feet leaving the ground. James hauls me into his body from behind, and before I have a chance to swoon over his embrace, his other hand slaps at my back. Twice. Nope, three times. And that’s when I realize he thinks I’mchokingchoking, as in something is stuck. And everyone is looking on while he handles me like a puppy who swallowed a piece of shoe.
Mortified, I manage to grab his wrist and slap the back of his hand with my own as a signal that I’m okay. He sets me back on my feet and spins me around, inspecting my eyes. They’re teary, half because the dry-throat cough does that to me and half because he just tried to Heimlich me using every single technique the professionals saynotto use.
“I’m good,” I croak out.
Honestly, I still need to clear my throat, but I’ll be damned if I’m ever coughing in his presence again.
A few people around us clap and James smiles and takes in the praise while his cheeks redden from the attention. I wonder how many people caught that on video and are already tagging my social accounts. Other people’s posts about me trend more than my own at this point. I’m sure this one will be viral in an hour.
“You should have taken my water,” Brooklyn says, leaning into me and handing me her bottle. It’s half full, and my pride is empty, so I take it begrudgingly and twist the cap off before bringing it to my lips.
James and Lily are exchanging phone numbers, and there’s an actual smile on her face. My esophageal distress eases, but I stay in the background, looking on while they make plans to meet up. I don’t need to have everything I want. Besides, I don’t really want James all that much anyhow. He’s cute. And new. I can let Lily have this one. Maybe he’ll be the distraction she needs. Or perhaps he’ll be the signal Theo needs to get his shit in order.
I feel things out on our walk back to our room, asking Lily what she thinks of James. She brushes me off with short answers, which triggers my needling nature to pry even harder. I sound like a crazy jealous girl, hyper-focused on a guy I met only minutes ago. I’d like to say I’m not, but the more I question her about what she thought of his eyes, of his tall, built body, of him being the new quarterback, of the class she offered to help him with and so on, the more confused I am about my own intentions. I quit working her over when I catch a sideways glance from Brooklyn, whose pulled-back brown hair and tightly drawn lips give off a certain librarian-about-to-bust-me vibe.
Back in the comfort of our room, music playing and jammies on, I sit back into my corner filled with pillows and silently take in our new shared home for the next nine months. A day will come when it feels normal. I believe that. I pledge to myself not to bring James up to Lily again unless it looks as though there really is a spark between them. The silent promise stings, and I bury that feeling too because the only reason I feel it is jealousy. It’s one stupid boy. One I’ve known for about seventeen minutes, three of which were spent with him essentially burping me. Besides, these feelings are probably more about me mourning attention that once came so easily. A year ago, there is no way I would not be either planning my first date with James by now or stringing him along on my own terms.
Curious, I settle under my blanket and search my social accounts for any mention of tonight’s choking incident. I recognized a few of the students filming on their phones, so I scout their pages first, bracing myself to see the likes and comments climbing on the video. Only, there are no mentions to track. None of the obvious hashtags or keywords bring up the video. A novice might think people are simply waiting to post it, but that’s not how this game works for people like us. A video of someone like me getting an unnecessary Heimlich is social media gold, and being the first to post that kind of thing is rule number one. At least, it would have been. Before.
Fact is, my numbers are down by more than thirty percent. I dipped below a million on my best platform. There are fewer people looking. Fewer people caring. And I’d venture to guess half of those people who filmed me at dinner have already deleted it from their phones to save space.
I didn’t really want the video to be seen. But I did expect it. Negative attention is still attention.
Angry at myself for caring, I click my screen off and toss my phone into the folds of my comforter and give my attention over to Brooklyn and Lily who are doing a deep dive into Theo’s behavior. I guess there was an incident during the internship interviews today, something about him tripping Lily in front of the panel. Somehow, the two of them landed the same internship at the end of it all.
“Where did you get in?” It’s the first time anyone has asked, and I think Lily is bringing it up now simply to get the focus off her and Theo.
I shrug and sink deeper into my covers.
“It’s a small PR company. Is it bad that I don’t even remember the name? It’s on my form,” I say, nodding toward my desk.
Everyone at Welles assumed I would intern with my father at Bentley Inc. I told my friends I didn’t want to give my dad the satisfaction of working for him, but the truth? I was afraid he would reject me. Being passed over by your own father cuts deep, and I’m not strong enough to handle that right now, No matter how many times I have before in my life.
“Opal and Jayne,” Brooklyn says, standing in front of my desk with my packet in her hands.
“That’s right. I picked them because I liked their name,” I admit.
Brooklyn laughs out, “Oh, my God,” and rolls her eyes, tossing my papers back on my desk and retreating back to her bed.
I also like that they do a lot of small business grand openings, but having to post on social media again regularly, if even for somebody else, does make my heart burn. I’m hoping I don’t fail at this job, or worse, get stuck writing media advisories for ribbon cuttings.
