“Are you sure you’re all right?”
He makes an okay gesture with his hand. “Fucking dandy. Oh.” He rifles through his pocket and pulls out some cash, smacking it into my hand. “For my drinks.”
“I would’ve paid for them.”
“It’s fine.” He waves me off when I try to give the cash back to him. Lights streak across the lot and a minivan pulls up front. “That’s my ride.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to say anything else before he strides for the car and gets in.
I watch it pull away, puzzled over what the fuck just happened.
4
Ophelia
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Rory’s meeting us there.” Kenna adjusts her tank top, making sure her boobs look even better than they do already. “Harvey’s is great. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t think so. But thank you for the invite.”
The last place I want to be is a loud, crowded college bar, but I hope neither of them stops inviting me. It feels good that despite me turning them down all of last year, they keep trying. I couldn’t have asked for better roommates when it comes to Kenna and Li. I lucked out in so many ways.
“One of these days,” Kenna wags a finger, “you’re going to say yes.”
Not likely.
“Maybe,” I say instead.
Her smile is small, like she knows it probably won’t happen either. But Kenna is a bright ray of sunshine that can’t help but try. “If you need us for anything just text.”
I brighten. “Can you bring me back an order of potato skins?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “What is it with you and potato skins?”
I shrug. “They’re yummy.”
I get up to grab my wallet, but she waves me off.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you when we leave the bar.”
“Thanks.” I really do appreciate her effort. Over the years I’ve found that most people don’t put in the time or energy it takes to get to know me. I find it difficult to open up, afraid that if people know the real me, they won’t like what they find.
The door closes behind them as they head out. That leaves me with the entire dorm to myself. As much as I know I’ve been blessed with good roommates, being here by myself is my favorite thing. Back home, my parents rarely left me without either their company or the housekeeper, even when I was in high school.
I felt like I’d committed a crime just by breathing if I always needed supervision.
I know my parents didn’t mean for it to feel that way, but that doesn’t change the fact that it did.
Grabbing a blanket from my bedroom, I burrow onto the couch in a cozy cocoon and put on the first Hunger Games movie. I don’t know why the books and movies have always been a comfort of mine. Maybe it’s because I relate to Katniss—her quiet pondering and desperate need to fade into the background—but then I envy her poise in handling the spotlight and her strength, wishing I could channel that.
The first movie starts, and I lay with my head pillowed on my hand. I only make it halfway through before I’m interrupted with a Facetime from my best friend Logan.
I’m already smiling before I swipe to accept his call.
“There’s my girl,” he says right away when my face appears on screen. My heart warms at his greeting.
Logan and I have been friends for a long time. So long, in fact, that at one point we tried to be together. We realized after a handful of hours that we’re friends and nothing more, that’s just the way it’s meant to be.
“How are you doing?”
Logan is off at Aldridge’s top rival school when it comes to sports. We had originally planned to attend the same college, but there was no way my parents were ever going to agree to let me go all the way to Harding University in Alabama. So, I ended up at Aldridge and Logan stuck with the original plan.
“Good, good,” he chants. He’s in his room in his tiny studio apartment above the pottery place he works at. Logan doesn’t have to work. His family is paying his school tuition and gives him money, but Logan always does his own thing. “Just had dinner with a couple of friends.”
My chest pangs at the mention of friends—friends I haven’t even met. I barely saw Logan this summer. He was only back home for a couple of days a handful of times. When he wasn’t home, he was jetting off to different places exploring. That’s how he is. He’s not appeased by any one place.
“What are you up to?” His question brings me back to the land of the living.
“Oh, I’m watching The Hunger Games.”
His chuckle is warm and amused. “Of course, you are. You’ve only watched it five-thousand times.”
“And I’ll watch it five-thousand more.”
He shakes his head, dark floppy hair bouncing. “You should be out. Go do something, Filly.”
I hate the stupid nickname he gave me because of my name and love of horses. But at the same time, I think I’d be sad if I asked him to stop and he listened.
“I would if I wanted to.” And it’s true, even if it makes me uncomfortable there are times I push my boundaries. “Tonight, I want to watch Katniss be a bad ass.”
He chuckles. “You’re a bad ass, too.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “I know that.”
Logan’s shoulders sag. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
Besides my brother, Logan is the only person in the world who knows me inside and out, every rotten detail and loves me anyway.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you more this summer.”
“You have a life, Logan. I get that.”
“But you’re part of that life.” He rubs a hand over his stubbled face. He looks tired despite the fact his classes haven’t begun yet either. “I’m going to make a trip up to see you one weekend.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“It’s not silly. I miss my best friend.”
“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to.”
He grins triumphantly. “Cool. It might be a few weeks but I’m going to make it happen.”
I don’t tell him, but I’ll believe it when I see it.
I hang up from him and get back to the movie, but it isn’t long until my mom begins texting me. Frustrated, I turn my movie off, unwrap myself from my blanket burrito and throw on some workout clothes and tennis shoes.
As I walk outside, my steps long and quick, I reply to each and every one of my mother’s texts as they come in. I do my best to pacify her worries, despite wanting to chuck my cellphone into the nearest trash bin.
Once my mom is sufficiently appeased, I keep walking, not in the mood to go back and attempt to finish watching my movies.
Eventually I end up at one of the coffee shops on campus. It’s empty at this hour so I’m able to walk right up to register.
“Hi.” The cheery barista greets. “What can I get you?”
“Um.” I study the menu. “How about a java chip frozen coffee, please?”
“What size?”