I scowled as the rage I felt that night started to creep back in. My fists balled at my side and my jaw clenched so tight, I thought my teeth might grind into dust. I thought I was over it. I thought I’d yelled, punched, and cussed my way past her betrayal, but hearing someone else say what she did out loud brought the pain and devastating anger back to the surface. I threw back my beer, chugging it all in one go before slamming the bottle back onto the counter. I was fuming, and not even an ice-cold beer could cool the flames. Aiden took in the tight set of my jaw, my rigid posture, and brooding countenance.
“Sorry, man,” he apologized. “That was insensitive.”
“It was the truth,” I ground out. “And I needed to hear it.” I needed to come to terms with what she’d done. She cheated on me. While I was planning our forever, anticipating the moment I’d watch her walk down the aisle in a long white dress, she was off screwing some guy who couldn’t even manage to wear matching socks. That’s right. I went to her condo to see what she’d thrown away our chance at happiness for and saw him with his too-long hair, mismatched socks, and paint splattered tee shirt. He was an “artist,” she claimed. He looked like a hipster trying to find a sugar mama to fund his cannabis farm.
“What are you going to do with your plane tickets and reservation at the resort?”
His question brought me back to the present. That was actually my whole purpose for being there.
“Well, they’re non-refundable, so unless I want to cut my losses, I have to find somebody to take her place and go with me.” I looked at him pointedly, hoping he’d get the hint.
“Oh, no,” he began, straightening and holding his hands up. “Don’t look at me. There’s no way I can leave right now.”
“Oh, come on, man. You’re my best friend! We’re both single. We’ll be in another country. There will be beautiful women running around in bikinis and plenty of rum to keep us nice and comfy.”
“Dude, no. I’m up for a big promotion and we have not one, but two major clients to meet with next week. If I spring a last-minute vacation on them now, I can kiss that promotion goodbye.”
Shit. “What about Travis?” I asked hopefully, going down the line of our closest friends.
“He’s studying for the bar exam. No way he’s going to take off right now.”
“Shawn?” I questioned, the hope starting to drain out of me.
“Bethany will kill him. She only has a month left before the baby gets here, and she’s already having contractions. He’s not even allowed to leave the county right now, much less the country.”
I pulled out my wild card. It was my last resort. “Well, does Adam have anything going on?”
“He’s in rehab,” Aiden deadpanned. “Again. He can’t even leave the center for a couple more weeks. It’s court-ordered this time,” he added sadly. I winced, hating myself for not knowing he had relapsed again. What kind of friend was I?
A shitty one.
Seemed like I couldn’t do anything right these days. I lost my fiancé to another man and couldn’t even be bothered to keep up with the four guys who had been like brothers to me.
Taylor
Two weeks ago
Why did I answer my phone? When I saw it was the university calling, I should’ve just let it go to voicemail. I wasn’t ready to deal with this. I wasn’t ready to face the consequences of my actions. I’d been misguided and naïve, and now I was paying for it.
My hands wrung together, my foot tapping a fast-paced beat against the hardwood floor as I waited in the sturdy wooden chair outside the dean’s office. This was it. I was about to get kicked out of school. What was I going to tell my parents? I’d have to think of something convincing, something so far from the truth that they’d never guess what I really did.
While I was getting ready this morning, I did my best to look innocent, even though I was far from it. I had to convince them I belonged there, that I didn’t do anything wrong, although nothing could be further from the truth. What I did was very wrong, and I knew it. This morning, I dressed in conservative clothes, ensuring my skirt wasn’t too snug or short and there was no cleavage showing. I applied minimal makeup, allowing the slight smattering of freckles across my cheeks and nose to shine through when I usually concealed them, and opted to wear glasses instead of putting my contacts in. I looked demure, non-threatening, inculpable. I needed them to believe me incapable of what I’d been accused.
My heart leapt into my throat when I heard the door open and watched the dean emerge. “Hold my calls,” he instructed his secretary, and then his gaze slid to me. “Ms. Wesley,” he greeted. His tone was indifferent, professional. He wasn’t thrilled to have me in his office, but he didn’t outwardly show his disdain. I was confident this wasn’t the first time he’d had this conversation with a student, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
I stood from my chair and grabbed my purse, my hairline and underarms dampening with nervous perspiration. I suddenly regretted the sweater set I’d slipped into, hoping it gave me the look of a dedicated and rule-abiding college student. It was far too warm for the knit material and long sleeves. At least my skirt was knee length and didn’t cover my legs entirely. I’d mercifully left the panty hose off as well.
Mr. Crawford motioned for me to follow him and I did, smoothing a sweaty hand over my clothes. “Have a seat,” he instructed, pointing to the chair across from his desk. Another man I recognized but couldn’t place was perched in the seat next to his desk. From the placement of my chair, I guessed that his chair had been next to mine, but he moved it away. They wanted to show a united front, to draw a line between us. Them on one side and me on the other.
“Ms. Wesley,” Mr. Crawford repeated after settling behind his massive, ornately designed desk, “there have been some serious accusations made against you. Accusations of this nature require thorough investigation, and your cooperation would be greatly appreciated.”
I swallowed hard, willing myself to keep my mouth shut until he was done speaking. I wanted to lie through my teeth and shout my confession all at the same time. If I could’ve lied, just denied the whole thing, this might have gone easier. But I’d learned years ago that lying never got me anything except hurt, so I vowed never to do it again.
My heart raced as he read over a list of the things that had been reported to him about me. I gripped the arms of my chair, my fingernails biting into the soft leather. When he finished, he removed his reading glasses and set them atop the papers in front of him.
“Now,” he began, folding his hands together, “what do you have to say about these accusations?”
My mind screamed to me, Deny! Deny! Deny! I wanted to. I wanted to make this all go away, to go back in time and make a different choice. But nothing could erase what I’d done. No amount of pleading or begging would make it go away. So, I folded and told the truth. I told them everything.
Dalton
“I have no idea what I’m going to do.” I raked my hands through my already messy hair and hung my head. “There’s nobody else I can take. I guess I’ll just have to go by myself.”