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“Professor Carter is in another department, but she’s up for tenure herself this year, so…” His meaning is clear.
“I will make sure there’s no confusion,” I grumble. I’m the foremost expert in my field, so having to deal with Skylar, a woman I had sex with maybe a handful of times, is a waste of my time. But I also don’t need her causing problems.
“Excellent. At the end of the semester, if all goes the way it should…” He stands, placing his cigar in his large crystal ashtray. “It’s an honor to shake the hand of the newly minteddeanof the whole engineering school at California University.” He holds out his weathered hand to me, and I stand. “Congratulations, son. I see great things for you. Please don’t disappoint.” His voice is strong, but his hand slightly shakes.
Adrenaline rushes to my head as I reach out to clasp his, mine steady and sure. “Thank you, Richard. You have nothing to worry about.I never disappoint.”
ALEXANDREA
Preparing to knock on my sister’s door, I sigh deeply and straighten my shoulders. God, I feel like I’m Anna inFrozenstanding outside Elsa’s door. I have to stop myself from humming “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?”
“Just knock,” I whisper and gently tap on her door, fighting the need to bolt.
Nothing.
I put my ear to the door like that will do anything. Jesus, what is she doing? I mean, I haven’t seen her since last night when she breezed past me, not even responding to my cheerful, “Hi, how was your day?”
“Skylar?” I knock a little harder. “You oka—”
“What?” The voice makes me jump back as I almost give in to my need to run. This is, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable week of my life. All my hopes and dreams about moving to beautiful Southern California to attend CAU and bond with my sister are pretty much gone.
The truth is, I’m starting to wonder if she’s not unstable. From the moment I pulled into town with my car stuffed with all my belongings, she’s been, well… a bitch.
“I was wondering if I could maybe get a ride with you this morning since it’s the first day, and I…” Her door swings open as I back up.God, stop cowering.She can’t be all that bad.
When she stands in dark slacks and a cute, ruffled sleeveless white top, her makeup perfect aside from her puffy eyes, I plaster on a big smile. A wave of compassion flows over me. Maybe she’s sad, heartbroken. That’s probably why she’s looking at me like I’m an annoyance. She just got dumped. Yes, she was in a serious relationship and had her heart broken. That would explain this terrible behavior.
I almost reach out to touch her arm, but she snaps, “Why? What’s wrong with your car?” She walks around me, and my nose twitches at her perfume.
“Oh, I… hold on a second.” I turn and sneeze. For some reason, my allergies act up around her.
“Sorry.” I sniff, my eyes watering as I try to fight back the next sneeze. “I just thought we could carpool, maybe talk, save gas…” I hold up my hand and turn my head to sneeze again.
“No. And if you’re sick, stay away from me. I have way too much going on to risk catching whatever plague you’ve brought with you from Ohio.” Her glossed-up lip curls, and she shakes her head as ifOhiois a dirty word or something. Annnd, there goes my compassion as I watch her proceed to the kitchen, heels clicking on the hardwood floors.
“Unbelievable,” I whisper. So what if she’s nursing a broken heart? She’s vicious. God, I’m nothing but nice. Turning, I march straight to the bathroom for a tissue. That, and I need to get away from her bad energy.
All right, this is it. I’ve bent over backward to make some sort of connection with her. That stops today. Clearly, it’s unwanted.
All she does is work, or stay locked in her bedroom or the bathroom crying. At first, I just thought she was upset that our dad was making her take me in. But, come on, this is like a whole ’nother level. I’m also the best roommate ever. I keep to myself and try to give her space and privacy. It’s not my fault this house is small and I can hear her crying and talking to herself.
God, the only reason I even thought I’d try asking for a ride is because my car is broken. I blow my nose again and toss the tissue in the trash as I look around and weigh my options. I don’t have much because my car is freakin’ broken, and from what little I know, you absolutely need a car in LA. I glance at myself in the mirror and straighten my ponytail. I’m already nervous and excited about today. Why does she have to be such a dick? I mean, she’s a professor at the university, for God’s sake. This is ridiculous…
“Make sure you lock the door, Alex.” Her snippy voice alerts me that she is, in fact, leaving, and if I don’t somehow get in her car, I’m gonna be screwed on my first day.
“Wait, Skylar.” I run out, only to see her backing out of her tiny garage. Unless I want to throw myself onto the hood of her Mercedes, I need to face the fact that it’s too late.
“Fuck,” I scream, not caring that the neighbor’s dog runs down their steps to bark at me.
Skylar lives in a super cute neighborhood in Santa Monica, where most of the houses on her street are still small and were built in the 1950s. Sure, there are the McMansions down the road, but for the most part, this street is mostly singles or old couples.
“Oh shush, Walter,” I snap at the dog that’s now growling at me through the white wooden fence that separates our yards. Walking back into the house, I slam the door with so much force the windows shake. Then I flop down on her couch and look at my watch: 7:15 a.m. My first class isn’t until nine o’clock. Do I chance taking my car? I mean, it’s just down PCH. It should be fine, right? I bite my bottom lip, lean back, and cover my face with my hands. This is just not how I visualized my first day going.
I should have known something was weird when my dad called me into his office the night before I left. I thought he’d tell me how much he’d miss me. Instead, he went on and on about how my sister was difficult. That I was a smart girl, and he was confident I could make it work. See, Skylar is from his first marriage. She’s fifteen years older than me and clearly lives way beyond her means, which is why I’m being forced to live here. Our dad already pays for most of the rent. Why get me an apartment when Skylar has an extra bedroom?
Yet she’s done absolutely everything to make me feel unwanted. The other day she told me to separate all the food in the refrigerator, that she was going to bill our dad extra since I keep eating her food. I had one peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It took all I had to stay quiet.
“Oh God,” I groan. My car breaking down was a sign, a foreshadowing. As soon as that check engine light came on, I should have stopped, called my dad, and gotten it fixed. Instead, I ignored it and kept driving, hoping it would turn off. It didn’t, and by the time I pulled into Skylar’s garage it had started making noises. To be honest, I was just so relieved I made it, I blocked it out of my mind until I tried to drive around a couple of days ago.
