This One’s For You Page 7

  My body shook with so much anger that I wanted nothing more than to scream as loud as I possibly could. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. I hadn’t even started classes yet and I was ready to leave. I had only been here for three days now—three days that felt like an entire lifetime. I was supposed to come to school, hope I had a cool roommate—which I did—and attend classes. I was supposed to make friends, have fun, and cram for exams. But I wasn’t supposed to be worked up about some guy whose name was the only thing I knew about him. What the hell was going on?

  This was not the plan. This was about doing what Reagan couldn’t do. Living the life she wasn’t going to have. What would she do if she were here right now? It was a simple question really. Reagan wouldn’t let some guy get her twisted up like this. She wouldn’t waste the time or energy. In fact, she’d probably be figuring out a way to get him worked up. “Payback’s a bitch” is how she’d put it. She would move on with life and not let some guy keep her from enjoying herself. Hell, she’d just act as if nothing even happened.

  That was Reagan. She didn’t sweat the small stuff. She’d let herself get mad for a moment and then move on. She never let anything get under her skin—which was exactly what Owen had done to me. If she were here, she’d knock me up the side of my head. “He’s just a guy, Brenn,” she’d say. “One out of a billion. He isn’t worth it. So, let it go.”

  But I couldn’t let it go.

  “Seriously, Mr. Sex-on-legs didn’t try to get down with his bad self?” Amelia asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Amelia,” I snapped. “Nothing happened. So just drop it.”

  “Sure doesn’t seem like nothing happened,” she muttered.

  I felt bad for snapping at her. She didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know what was going on. I took a slow, steady breath, and tried to calm my nerves—a technique my therapist taught me. It was starting to work.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, sitting up on my bed. She glanced up from her nails, nodded, and resumed painting them. I didn’t even realize that’s what she was doing when I returned to the room. “I just . . . I’m not sure what is happening right now.”

  But I did know. I was letting my emotions take control. I was letting the seething anger and guilt, stuff that had nothing to do with Amelia, get the best of me. I thought I had it managed; I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t think it was in control. I thought I was in a better place—mentally and emotionally—to handle anything life threw me. I was starting to think I was wrong.

  She capped her hot pink nail polish and set it on the desk beside her. She looked at me.

  “Wanna talk about it? Maybe I can help you figure it out.” Her face was soft and she stared at me with forgiving eyes. She was reminding me of my best friend more and more.

  Reagan was quick to apologize and forgive even if she wasn’t at fault. She never held grudges and accepted everyone for who they were, faults and all. I wanted desperately to tell Amelia, but what was there to tell other than that I might be going crazy and felt drawn to a complete stranger? I wanted to confide in her. It just didn’t feel right, though. I felt like I would be betraying Reagan.

  I didn’t know Amelia well, and though I felt I could trust her, I wasn’t entirely confident that I ever would.

  “No,” I said softly. “I’ll work it out on my own.”

  The hurt look on her face made my heart drop. She straightened up and cleared her throat. She fiddled with the animal print blanket I bought for her yesterday with her paint-free hand. I could feel the tension in the air. I didn’t want to shut her out, but I simply didn’t know her enough to let her in.

  Ha! The thought made me laugh. Here I was, unwilling to talk to my roommate, someone I knew deep down I could trust, yet I was positive I’d tell Owen anything if he just asked me. Was I really that pathetic? I wasn’t sure when I lost myself along the way. Okay, I did, but it didn’t make a difference. While I might be willing to have a fling—pact or not—I wasn’t quite ready for a new best friend, and I was starting to think I never would be.

  No would ever come close to me as Reagan had; no one would ever share the same bond we’d forged when she moved to Lake Forest Park in the seventh grade. No one could take her place. She was one of a kind. I knew from the moment we met that she was my soul sister—the sister I never had. And that was something that could never be replaced.

  Just as I believed in soul mates, I also believed in soul friends. Sometimes, they were one and the same. Reagan was my soul sister. Even now, she always would be. I knew I had to let someone in eventually. Maybe Amelia would be the one to help ease the pain. But for now, I was selfish and unwilling to give up what Reagan and I had shared.

  I owed Amelia an apology. “I wasn’t trying to be rude,” I said, rubbing my locket. “I have had a hard time letting people get close to me, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.” But she wouldn’t look at me.

  She stared out the window. The quietness settled over me. I hoped I didn’t put us in an awkward situation. I wanted us to be friends. I wanted us to make the best of it.

  “Can I say something?” she asked. She looked at me, and I nodded. “I’m not trying to be a bitch or anything.” Uh-oh . . .  “I don’t know if something happened to you that caused you to be closed off, but whatever it is . . . don’t let it control you. Grab it by the horns and show it who’s the boss. Not letting people in will get lonely and no one deserves to be alone. If you don’t feel like talking to me, that’s okay. I’ll admit, it kinda sucks, because I happen to think you’re pretty rad. But don’t close yourself off and forget how to live. Whatever happened between you and Mr. Sex—I mean Owen, shake it off. We have the whole year in front of us to look forward to. Don’t let some guy you hardly know ruin it for you.”

  I replayed her words. Letting them sink in. Behind her wild, unfiltered persona was a beautiful person. A good person. Someone I knew I could trust—if only I would allow myself to.

  “I think you’re pretty rad yourself,” I finally said, flashing her a big smile.

  We left it at that. We started talking about our first day of classes tomorrow. She was a business major—which was a shock—and I was still undecided. She had two classes tomorrow whereas I only had one—Classical Mythology. I didn’t have any real reason for taking the course, other than my love for Greek mythology. I wanted to travel to Greece one day, maybe even live there for a year or two. Since I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my future, I figured I might as well take some classes that interested me.

  Eventually, we got dressed, then grabbed some lunch. It was like the morning never happened, and that was more that I could ask for. We walked around campus to learn our way around a bit better. I didn’t think I’d ever know where everything was. The campus was vast and went on block after block. According to Amelia, who turned out to be filled with a million useless facts, the campus sat on approximately 300 acres and had sixty major buildings.

  We walked around for hours, aimlessly, with no particular goal in mind, and we got lost more times than I’d like to admit. We relied on the signs posted throughout campus to get us back to the dorm. Seeing the signs reminded me of my recent encounter with Owen. Would it be the last time we’d interact? I hoped not. I realized sometime during the walk that despite the unexplainable connection I felt to him, we were better off friends—if he’d even be my friend. I knew that if I didn’t have room to let Amelia in, then I had no place letting a guy in. I had to keep my walls up for now and figure things out. In the meantime, I was going to do what I had set out to do—have fun and make memories.

  We grabbed burgers down the street from our dorm and took them back to our room. As I waited for Amelia to open the door, I stared hopelessly at the door across the hall, wishing that it would open. It never did. We ate, joked around, and picked out what to wear on our first official day of college, and then Amelia headed to the bathroom to take a shower. I
sat by the window, watching people around on the street below. I straightened up and pressed my face against the glass when I saw a familiar head of blond hair.

  Hanging off each arm were two girls that I had never seen before. I clenched my teeth as jealously filled me to the core, but I couldn’t look away. He glanced up toward my room and I swear he knew I was watching him. Owen stumbled a bit as he walked and then disappeared into the building. My heart sank, feeling like it had been cut with a dull blade.

  A few minutes later, I heard the sound of laughter down the hall. With each breath I took, the sound grew louder until it was right outside my door, and I recognized Owen’s muffled voice. I held my breath as I tiptoed toward it. I pressed my ear against the wooden door and heard the sound of laughter again. I cracked my door open in time to see the two girls enter his room. He turned, looking back at me, and we stared at each other.

  I broke away first, disgusted by the person standing in front of me. I closed my door, and then leaned up against it. I heard the muffled sound of his door close, and sighed. “I thought you didn’t let girls into your room?” I muttered under my breath.

  I pulled out my laptop, put in my headphones, and hit the shuffle button on my playlist. I hopped on Facebook for the first time since I arrived. My News Feed was full of photos of friends back home enjoying their first days of college before being slammed with homework. I scrolled down and caught my breath as my eyes landed on a picture that threatened to make me tear up. It was a selfie of Reagan on a boat during our junior year, when we’d taken a spring break trip to Lake Shasta. Her brother was the one who posted, and he’d added a caption: Not a day goes by that I don’t think of your beautiful smile. Miss you, baby sis.

  I stared at the photo. Her shoulder-length hair was blowing in the wind. The soft honey-colored flecks shined brightly in her mocha eyes under the sunlight. Her brother was right—her smile was beautiful. People couldn’t help but smile around her. Her smile was infectious. Reagan had a way of bringing out the best in people and making them laugh.

  Tears slid down my cheeks as I reached out and touched the photo on the screen. I rubbed my locket with my other hand. She was truly one in a million. I looked up, saw the door handle turning, and quickly wiped away the tears. I closed my laptop and removed my headphones.

  “You okay?” Amelia asked. She walked across the room and set her shower caddy on the desk. I nodded. She stared at me and waiting to see if I’d say something more. When I didn’t, her eyes dropped to the floor. “The showers are empty if you want to take one while you can.”

  I smiled at her. She had remembered my unease at having to shower at the same time as others. Even though each stall had curtains and no one would be able to see me, I still felt vulnerable. I knew I’d have to take one, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  “Thanks,” I replied. I grabbed my things, left the room, and made my way to the bathroom.

  I stood there under the shower, deep in thought, until the hot water started to run out. I carefully dried off and got dressed in the shower stall. Standing in front of the mirror, I combed out my hair, pulled it into a braid, and then brushed my teeth. Feeling fresh and renewed, I headed back to my room. Halfway down the hall, the two brunettes I saw earlier stepped out of Owen’s room, and then Owen appeared. He playfully slapped them on their asses, unaware that I was standing there. The girls giggled and kissed his cheek. They passed me, laughing and staring. I flashed them a dirty look as they entered the elevator.

  I felt his eyes on me, and I slowly turned my head. I’d never been more disgusted in my life. I made a tsk sound and was just about to go back into my room when he said my name.

  “Brennan.” The sound of his voice snapped something inside of me. I looked at him and shook my head.

  “What?” I said sharply. He flinched. “Slut one and two weren’t satisfying enough for you?”

  He raised an eyebrow and smiled sheepishly. I didn’t know what possessed me to say that and it pissed me off that he found it amusing. He took two short strides to close the distance between us. My chest heaved as I fought to keep my seething anger in check.

  “I told you to stay away from me,” he said. Our faces were inches apart. I could hear his shallow breathing and feel the warmth of his body. He reached up and took my braid into his hand. I froze. I couldn’t think straight and took a few deep breaths. A few seconds later, my mind processed what was going on. I slapped his hand away and took a small step back. I felt the handle of my door pressing against my back.

  “You’re a pig.” I turned, opened my door, and hurried in before what little boldness I had left deserted me. I leaned against the inside of the door, bouncing the back of my head off it gently. Amelia looked at me.

  “Why are men such jerks?” I asked, sighing.

  She chuckled softly. “I think it has something to do with their chromosomes.”

  I burst out laughing and slid down the door, practically rolling on the floor until my sides started to ache. Whatever the reason was, Owen had the jerk think down to a T.

  SIX

  THE ONE THING that sucked about Classical Mythology was that it was one of the first classes of the day. That meant my sorry ass had to get up at half past six to ensure I had enough time to get ready and be on the other side of campus by eight a.m. sharp. Amelia was still asleep by the time I slipped out of our room an hour later. When I left, I made it a point not to look at Owen’s door.

  I was glad that we had explored the campus the day before—I knew how to get where I was going and made it there with fifteen minutes to spare. Although September was almost over¸ it was still warm enough to not need a jacket. I made my way across campus and into the lecture hall.

  An hour and a half later, the class was over. Though my professor was a little on the quirky side, I had a feeling that I was going to enjoy the class. But what I didn’t like was the downpour waiting for me when I left class. The weather here was something else—it was like somebody’d burst a dam in the sky and an entire lake came flooding down.

  I had no idea what to do. A few people laughed to themselves as they pulled out their umbrellas and charged out into the rain, but a sizable handful of students were just as helpless and ill-prepared as I was. Only a few were brave enough to take on the Oregon rain without protection. I pulled out my phone, ready to call Amelia to come to my rescue, when a voice spoke.

  “Need a hand?” His voice was warm and soft. I looked up into a pair of gray-blue eyes. His dark hair was cut short to the scalp and he towered above me. When he smiled down at me, I saw that he had dimples. Nothing about him set off my creeper radar—so far.

  He wore a pair of khaki shorts, sandals, and an Oregon Ducks hoodie. I noticed the umbrella in his hand and smiled. At least he came prepared. “You never know when to expect rain here,” he said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Callen.”

  I shook his hand. “Brennan.”

  “Nice to meet ya, Brennan.” His smile reached his eyes. “Whatcha say? Ready to brave the rain?”

  I nodded. Callen opened the door, stuck the umbrella out, and pressed a button. Pop! He moved to the side, making room for me, and motioned for me to lead the way. Despite the rain, it was still fairly warm outside. We walked for a few minutes without talking. I could feel him looking down at me and I glanced up.

  “So, where are you headed?” he asked.

  “Back to the dorms,” I answered simply.

  Callen smiled and then winked. “That’s where I’m headed as well.”

  We came to a street and stopped on a corner. A bicyclist sped by, splashing water on us. “Thanks, asshole!” I shouted, then gave him the middle finger. I heard Callen laughing next to me and felt my face getting warm.

  “You’ll get used to that,” he said. “Happens all the time.”

  We crossed the street, and the downpour slowed to a drizzle. Before I knew it, the sun was breaking through the dark clouds. I inhaled a deep breath, smelling the air. Callen l
aughed at me again.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, coming to a stop. I waited for him to slow his pace and then I smiled.

  “You,” he answered. “Smelling the air.”

  “I love how the air smells after it rains,” I said, taking another breath. He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’ve never taken the time to smell the air after a downpour.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t say I have.”

  I kept my jaw from dropping. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to have to do something to correct the situation. “Do it,” I challenged. Callen raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “Take a deep breath and smell the air.”

  “You’re crazy.” He laughed again. I placed my hand on his arm and looked into his eyes.

  “C’mon, I’ll do it with you,” I offered. “Just take a deep breath.”

  With my hand still on him, we simultaneously took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. I smiled. We breathed deep a few more times, drawing in the crisp air, our eyes never wavering from one another. A big smile spread across his face and I dropped my hand from his arm.

  “Well . . . ?” I inquired, my eyes widening. He took another deep breath, slowly exhaling.

  “I can see why you like it,” he said with a soft grin.

  I squealed just like Amelia. Callen let out a soft laugh and then we continued to walk toward the dorms, talking along the way. He was from southern California, which explained his tan. I gave him flack for leaving the beach for rain. He was a sophomore, majoring in English, with hopes of being a high school English teacher if his NBA dreams didn’t pan out. He also played for the school’s basketball team. He had five older sisters, which made him the baby of the family.

  We reached our destination all too soon—I didn’t want to stop talking with him. He was polite and funny—and nice to look at, too. Not only that, he was safe. We exchanged numbers and made plans to grab dinner sometime soon. Though I decided with absolute certainty, after the disaster known as Owen, I was sticking to the pact I made with Reagan. Callen seemed like a good guy, and a good guy was just what I needed.