Happenstance 3 (Happenstance #3)(33)
Author: Jamie McGuire

Sam put his hand on his shoulder, and Julianne hurried toward the building. Weston turned his ball cap around, pulled it low over his brow, and then hung his head. Sam pulled him closer, and Weston hugged him tight.

The thought of my new frame lying in fragments on the floor made me rush over to the entryway, but I wasn’t sure where the broom was, and Julianne was already knocking anyway.

I slowly opened the door, feeling ashamed the moment her eyes fell on the broken remains at her feet.

“Oh, Erin,” Julianne said, joining me on the floor. She helped with the large pieces and then walked to the hallway closet.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I might have thrown a small tantrum.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Not much. I did most of the talking. He did the walking out. He’s gotten pretty good at that.”

Julianne frowned. “He’s so lost and confused. I’m sorry he’s taking it out on you.”

Sam knocked on the door, still opened a bit from when Julianne had come in. “You’ve got it?” he said.

He retrieved the dustpan from the closet, and then he held it in place so that Julianne could sweep up the last bit of shards.

Minutes later, the floor was clean, and the remnants of my anger had been thrown away in one of my new trash bags. It was like happy had never happened.

“I know it’s hard to believe now,” Sam said, “but he’s hurting—mostly himself. He’s trying not to care if you care anymore. Boys aren’t as tough as our counterparts. We flail around like toddlers learning to walk, taking out everything around us while trying to get to where we’re going. Anything that’s halfway scary makes us wail like banshees.”

Julianne and I chuckled.

“It’s so true,” she said, shaking her head. “Remember that time—”

“Yes,” Sam said, cutting her off. “Let’s not revisit it.” He looked to me. “That boy is going to figure out what he’s done, and if he has any sense, he’ll come back on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.”

“He won’t have to beg,” I said, touching my necklace while looking out the window.

“Class dismissed,” Professor Kelley said, her blonde curls bouncing.

I gathered my things and followed the herd to the hallway. Then, I made my way down the steps and out the exit toward Bennett Hall.

Fall was always unpredictable in Oklahoma. Thanksgiving break was just a day away, and although the sun was shining, it wasn’t uncommon for the state to see a thirty-degree drop in temperature the next day.

The weather was on the warmer side, but the relentless wind was chilly. I pulled my coat tighter as I walked back to my dorm, keeping my head down.

For as long as I had dreamed about my college days at Oklahoma State University, never once had I imagined coming home for the holidays, but Julianne would be cooking a turkey, and Sam had offered to pick me up after whatever reason he’d made up to be in Stillwater the last day before break.

I crossed Hall of Fame Avenue, and then turned east toward Bennett Hall. Someone jogged next to me and walked several steps before I looked up to see who it was.

I froze. “Brady,” I said.

He towered over me, a smug expression on his face. “OSU must be desperate. They’re just letting anyone in these days.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, glaring up at him. I hadn’t let Weston retaliate for when they jumped him, hoping to spare us all more violence. Running into Brady had been at the back of my mind since orientation, but I was certain about one thing. Brady Beck wasn’t allowed to intimidate me anymore.

“Well,” I said, continuing my walk home, “it is a state school.”

Brady followed.

“One of my frat brothers was asking about you when he found out where you graduated. I told him you had a raging case of herpes.”

“How very mature of you.”

Brady jerked me to a stop by my coat, and leaned in. “

I yanked away, and he blinked. “This isn’t high school, Brady. No one cares who your parents are or what kind of truck you drive. No one even cares if you’re an asshole. Not even me. But this is the rest of my life, and you’re not invited.”

Brady laughed once. “That’s it? That’s your big speech?”

I tilted my head. “Is that what you want? A speech? Theatrics?” I shook my head. “I don’t need to hate you to feel better about myself, and here you are, begging for me to pay you some attention. Chasing me down for any pathetic morsel you can get.”

Brady shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you hear me?” I asked, leaning toward him, refusing to even blink. “I don’t hate you, Brady. I don’t feel anything toward you at all.”

He looked at me with pure disgust. “Well, I hate you, you nasty cunt.”

I stared straight into his eyes. “I know. We’ve established that. Can we both move on with our lives, now? Or do you require more of my attention?”

“Fuck you,” he said, walking away.

I exhaled, and continued on my trek to Bennett. I felt a thousand pounds lighter with every step, knowing that if Brady ever thought of speaking to me again, my words would be in the back of his mind. Precedence had been set, and any additional interaction between us would further prove my theory. I knew Brady was too proud to allow that to happen. His pride was even stronger than his need to be a bully.

As I approached my dorm, the crowd grew thicker as students entered and exited the building.

“Erin!” a high-pitched voice called from the crowd.

Rebecca, my copper-haired neighbor was slipping around fellow students to get tome. “Hey!” She was always chipper, no matter if it was seven a.m. or midnight.

“Last Chance party at the Lambda Chi’s Animal House tonight.”

“No, thank you,” I said, pulling open the door to Bennett’s lobby.

“Oh, c’mon! Please!” she said.

Rebecca was from Hobart, Oklahoma—a town with a population even smaller than Blackwell—and her accent was exceptionally Southern.

“I have to study, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes?” she said, sounding more like a question than an answer.

I shook my head. “There is nothing going on at that party that is more important than my Music Appreciation test. I have a B at the moment.”

“Bs are good, Erin!”

“My parents are paying for my education. If a B is my best, okay, but I owe it to them and myself to study for this test to see if I can do better.”