life as I crafted a lie, “the girl I roomed with at my last school
was a Mormon.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
Steph asked.
“At least they’re nice,”
Alex said.
“Yeah, but have you shared a
bathroom with someone who has to wear their special underwear? It was always
hanging on the shower rod, trying to convert me.”
They both snort-laughed, and
fell into each other.
“You’re funny,” Alex said.
“What school did you go to before?”
Steph asked.
Fuck. Think, Kate, think. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”
They glanced at each other
then back at me. A mysterious past was perfect. Whatever people concocted in
their heads was way worse than anything I could tell them, even though my real
freshman year had been pretty bad.
A blur of drunken nights, hung
over days and as many guys as I could sleep with in between.
It would definitely be
easier, smarter , to go with the partial truth that I transferred because
I had “problems” at my last school. Why not use the real history that usually
filled me with shame? No one would wonder why I wasn’t drinking, with my past.
I swallowed. My throat was
as dry as dust. It was getting harder and harder to convince myself not to drink;
I needed to at least be able to convince other people.
“You should come with us to
a party tomorrow,” Alex said.
“I don’t know,” I hesitated.
“I’m kind of trying to last longer than a semester here.”
“We’ll keep you out of
trouble,” Steph said.
Though I doubted it, I couldn’t
help but think about the weekend ahead. I could either spend it stuck in my
room with Dawn shooting looks of death in my direction while she scribbled in
her sketch book, continuing to avoid Carter even though I didn’t really want to
avoid him, or out with Steph and Alex enjoying college-take-two.
Wasn’t that the whole reason
I’d gone back to school and pretended to be a freshman, so I could have the
real college experience?
I could go to a party and
not drink.
Couldn’t I?
Chapter
Eleven
Carter
I was on my way to the
library Saturday night when I found Kate waiting in the dorm hallway in front
of her room. I hadn’t been avoiding her, but I guess steering clear had been
easier than admitting I wanted to see her. Her blond hair was in ringlet curls
as shiny as ribbon candy, her brown eyes were lined with sparkly blue. She wore
a tight white sweater and held her coat.
She was beautiful and if I
wasn’t her RA and on my way to the library I might have told her so.
“Decided to come with me to
the library after all?” I finally asked, even though she was not dressed for me
or the library. It was better than letting her know she was making it hard for
me to walk straight, to even talk straight.
“You go to the library on
Saturday nights too?”
I nodded, trying to ignore
how lame her question made me seem. “Every night at seven.” Who was I kidding? It was lame, but it also kept me on track.
“I guess you’re going to
pass Professor Parker’s class this time around.”
“That’s the plan,” I said.
“You look nice,” I added quickly, the words bubbling out before I could stop
them, honestly it was the least of what I thought about how she looked.
“I’m going to a party,” she
said, avoiding my eyes like she was guilty. I couldn’t tell if it was because
she was going or that now I knew about it.
I also could have been projecting.
Absorbed in my own guilt that I couldn’t be that kind of guy anymore—someone
who could go to parties and not be stared down like a criminal the entire time.
Or worse, feel like an asshole for even pretending it was okay to celebrate
anything.
I also couldn’t deny a distressing
worry starting like a pain in my lungs. I knew what happened at parties. I knew
what had happened at one party.
“Where at?” I asked, working
on steadying my breathing.
She shrugged, “Alex and
Steph are taking me.”
The back of my neck prickled—an
itch with no
was a Mormon.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
Steph asked.
“At least they’re nice,”
Alex said.
“Yeah, but have you shared a
bathroom with someone who has to wear their special underwear? It was always
hanging on the shower rod, trying to convert me.”
They both snort-laughed, and
fell into each other.
“You’re funny,” Alex said.
“What school did you go to before?”
Steph asked.
Fuck. Think, Kate, think. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”
They glanced at each other
then back at me. A mysterious past was perfect. Whatever people concocted in
their heads was way worse than anything I could tell them, even though my real
freshman year had been pretty bad.
A blur of drunken nights, hung
over days and as many guys as I could sleep with in between.
It would definitely be
easier, smarter , to go with the partial truth that I transferred because
I had “problems” at my last school. Why not use the real history that usually
filled me with shame? No one would wonder why I wasn’t drinking, with my past.
I swallowed. My throat was
as dry as dust. It was getting harder and harder to convince myself not to drink;
I needed to at least be able to convince other people.
“You should come with us to
a party tomorrow,” Alex said.
“I don’t know,” I hesitated.
“I’m kind of trying to last longer than a semester here.”
“We’ll keep you out of
trouble,” Steph said.
Though I doubted it, I couldn’t
help but think about the weekend ahead. I could either spend it stuck in my
room with Dawn shooting looks of death in my direction while she scribbled in
her sketch book, continuing to avoid Carter even though I didn’t really want to
avoid him, or out with Steph and Alex enjoying college-take-two.
Wasn’t that the whole reason
I’d gone back to school and pretended to be a freshman, so I could have the
real college experience?
I could go to a party and
not drink.
Couldn’t I?
Chapter
Eleven
Carter
I was on my way to the
library Saturday night when I found Kate waiting in the dorm hallway in front
of her room. I hadn’t been avoiding her, but I guess steering clear had been
easier than admitting I wanted to see her. Her blond hair was in ringlet curls
as shiny as ribbon candy, her brown eyes were lined with sparkly blue. She wore
a tight white sweater and held her coat.
She was beautiful and if I
wasn’t her RA and on my way to the library I might have told her so.
“Decided to come with me to
the library after all?” I finally asked, even though she was not dressed for me
or the library. It was better than letting her know she was making it hard for
me to walk straight, to even talk straight.
“You go to the library on
Saturday nights too?”
I nodded, trying to ignore
how lame her question made me seem. “Every night at seven.” Who was I kidding? It was lame, but it also kept me on track.
“I guess you’re going to
pass Professor Parker’s class this time around.”
“That’s the plan,” I said.
“You look nice,” I added quickly, the words bubbling out before I could stop
them, honestly it was the least of what I thought about how she looked.
“I’m going to a party,” she
said, avoiding my eyes like she was guilty. I couldn’t tell if it was because
she was going or that now I knew about it.
I also could have been projecting.
Absorbed in my own guilt that I couldn’t be that kind of guy anymore—someone
who could go to parties and not be stared down like a criminal the entire time.
Or worse, feel like an asshole for even pretending it was okay to celebrate
anything.
I also couldn’t deny a distressing
worry starting like a pain in my lungs. I knew what happened at parties. I knew
what had happened at one party.
“Where at?” I asked, working
on steadying my breathing.
She shrugged, “Alex and
Steph are taking me.”
The back of my neck prickled—an
itch with no
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