Slowly We Trust (Fall and Rise #3)(25)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“Whatever. I feel like I need another smoke. How about we grab some dinner or something? I was supposed to eat with the ‘family’, but I’m not feeling it and Max has to work tonight.” The poor kid was putting himself though school and working three jobs to try to do it, so they didn’t get much time together.

“Sounds good.”

We walked across the street to the cafeteria. I’d barely eaten here since school had started back up, since I’d always been with one of the “family”. We needed a more cohesive name. All the groups in Harry Potter did. The Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s Army, the Order of the Phoenix. They all sounded so epic. We needed an epic name for our weird family. If I was even going to be able to stay a part of it.

“This is why I eat off campus,” Trish moaned as we looked at the meager offerings. Thousands of dollars in tuition and all we had to eat was strange meatloaf, potatoes (because it was Maine, after all) green beans and small slivers of dry cake. I could have made a sandwich or a salad, but I just loaded up my tray and called it good.

Trish and I found a quiet corner away from some of the more rowdy diners. You’d think, being adults, that they would behave as such, but no. If possible, some people seemed to regress. I guessed I couldn’t talk. I was obsessed with a fictional wizard.

“So how are the ears?” Trish asked.

“They still hurt sometimes. How’s yours?” She touched her new piercing and winced.

“No pain, no gain. I went back to get some new jewelry and Magnus asked when I was bringing you back to get your first tattoo. He wants to do it for you, if you’d let him.” I shook my head. No way.

“You know that’s the worst idea ever. I’d pick something stupid and then be stuck with it.”

“So? At least it would be a reminder of being young and stupid. A learning experience on your body. And I believe I read a study that said eighty percent of people don’t regret their tattoos. So there’s that as well. You have statistics on your side.” She still wasn’t going to convince me.

“I’m not getting a tattoo under duress.”

She set her fork down and sipped her soda.

“Fine, fine. I’m not going to hold a gun to your head.” We didn’t speak much for the rest of the meal. Trish was moody, which could mean any number of a thousand things, but usually it was just the way she was most of the time.

I walked with her to the parking lot and she gave me a ride back to my dorm.

“Just one more word of advice. Keeping secrets from the person you need to tell most usually backfires and bites you in the ass. Just something to remember.” Didn’t I know it.

“Thanks, Trish.” She waved and chugged away, the exhaust pipe of her car banging against the pavement.

11

Audrey and I sort of made an unspoken mutual decision that we needed a break from each other, at least for a few days. She said she had a lot of studying to do, and I had to admit that I did as well. My New Year’s resolution to keep a high GPA, and the money incentive, were more than enough to get me to hit the books.

Audrey and I hadn’t spoken about Eddie or the party, or Lottie barging in on us. She seemed to want to forget about it, and I kind of did as well. I found out through some of my friends that Eddie wasn’t a student at DU, but had friends here and had been visiting for the weekend. So at least I didn’t have the chance of running into him again, which was a relief. Whatever he’d had or not had with Audrey was over and I didn’t want to dwell on what might or might not have happened.

I didn’t want to be “that guy”. Besides, Lottie would never let me be that guy. She’d tie me down and tickle me into submission first. Or she’d tell Mom and then I’d be screwed.

Taking out my frustrations on my academics was something I’d never really tried before. In high school, I’d used sports as my outlet when my girlfriend pissed me off, which was often. Thinking about our relationship through the lens of how I felt about Audrey was like looking at someone else’s life. I couldn’t believe what I’d put up with, and what I’d let happen. Not that I’d been a saint, because I definitely hadn’t treated her very well, either.

“Wake up, boyfriend,” Simon said one morning, a week and a half after the party. It was almost Valentine’s Day, which was something that weighed heavily on my mind. Did I do something? Did I not do something? If I did something, how much should I do? I couldn’t let it be like New Year’s when I’d said I loved her and she’d thanked me. No, I wasn’t going to screw this up.

I moaned and then Simon tore my covers off. I hated how much of a morning person he was. I also hated how he cleaned my side of the room without my consent and got mad at me when I got mad at him for it. Like I was the crazy one for not matching up my socks. They were either white, or white with a red toe. No one ever SAW the red toe, so what the hell did it matter?

“There’s no time like today to start making your dreams come true.”

“Are you quoting Oprah?” Her show might not be on anymore, but that didn’t mean Simon didn’t hang on every word she’d ever said.

“No, I’m quoting me paraphrasing Oprah. She’s helped a lot of people, you know. And her houses are gorgeous.” I rubbed my hands through my hair. It fluffed out everywhere, and if I wasn’t careful, it was going to turn into a white boy fro. It had gotten so bad that something had to be done, but Lottie was off on a field trip with the marine bio department, so I was shit out of luck for today.

Maybe I should just borrow a pair of Simon’s scissors and do it myself. The idea of actually going to a salon or something made me cringe. No one had ever cut my hair besides my mom and my sister. I didn’t trust anyone else with a pair of scissors.

I took a shower and when I came back, Brady had arrived with a tray of coffee and a bag of baked goods. He happened to work part time at the Starbucks on campus, so he was always bringing stuff over. Whenever Simon and Brady had a little argument or tiff, I was always terrified. Mostly because I couldn’t deal with a brokenhearted Simon, but also because I wouldn’t get free caramel macchiatos anymore.

“Hey, Will,” Brady said, tearing his eyes away from Simon for a moment. I bet if they had to spend an entire day staring at one another, they’d be all for it. Being around them was both disgusting and cute.

“Hey, Brady. Thanks for breakfast.” I reached into the bag and pulled out an everything bagel with cream cheese. Just what I wanted.