Breaking the Wrong (3 page)

Her mouth twitches up and she drops to her bed, crossing her legs at the ankle. “He can have his moments,” she says gently. “Overall, he’s pretty great.”

I don’t think she even realizes that she’s talking to me anymore. A light smile is on her face as she looks down at the ground, probably thinking about him. This Thayer guy had only been out of the room for a few minutes and she was already mooning over him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she started doodling their names in her notebook with hearts around them. This Severine, the one across from me, was completely different from the Severine I met months ago.

“How long have you been with him?” I ask.

My question yanks her from her lovestruck stupor. “Not long, but things are good between us. Really good,” she pronounces slowly.

I give her a kind smile, but she doesn’t buy it. Severine looks ready to pounce on me, like a threatened tiger.

Moments later Thayer walks through the door, carrying the rest of my boxes. Severine perks up and retracts her claws that had been seconds away from taking a big swipe out of me. He balances the boxes on the desk and tosses my keys at me. I catch them with one hand.

“Thanks again,” I say.

Thayer gives me a friendly smile and wraps an arm around Severine. “No problem.” He turns to Severine and gives her a firm kiss on the lips. I’m a forgotten thought, he only sees Severine.

I walk over to the rest of my boxes and give the two of them a little bit of privacy, but the whole time I’m tuning in to their conversation.

“I need to get back. Ben called, he wants to shoot hoops.”

I wait for Severine’s protest in three, two, one...

“Right now?” she asks.

He lowers his voice, trying to whisper. But that’s the thing. Guys can never whisper. It’s like they’re born with invisible earmuffs over their ears.

“Are you okay?” I hear him ask Severine. “You’re acting weird.”

The silence is awkward. I know the two of them are staring at me. They’re done talking and are now communicating with their eyes. A lift of the brow, quick nudge of the head, then
a brief frown. Everyone has done it at least once. I do it all the time with Eden when we want to comment on someone that’s standing right next to us.

I hear Severine sigh before there is more silence.

Finally, Thayer clears his throat and talks in my direction. “All right, I’m going.” I turn back and face the two of them.

“It was nice to meet you—” Thayer draws out.

Keeping a smile on my face I say, “Emilia.”

He shakes my hand firmly. “Well, nice to meet you, Emilia.” He backs away and gives a small nod. “See you guys later.”

When he leaves, the room feels smaller. I grab the sheets and start making my new bed. The mattress creaks noisily. I have no doubt that I’ll wake up tomorrow with stiff muscles.

“So what is your impression of the campus so far?” Severine asks. 

I lift my head up and study her. She’s still sitting on her bed, but her question came out of nowhere. “Pretty much the same as my old college,” I say.

“Where did you grow up?”

Underneath her words, there are so many needles waiting to pop a hole in my story.

“New York,” I say fondly.

Sadness creeps up like a thief and leaves me nothing but melancholy. Now I miss my family—especially Eden. 

Severine whistles and picks up the remote to her television. “Pretty far from home.”

I lift a shoulder and focus on making my bed. “I wanted a change.”

“Why is that?”

My hands stop smoothing out the sheets and I mull over her question, choosing my words carefully. “Back home holds a lot of memories. This college is perfect.” I turn and look her in the eye. “It has all I need.”

Severine stares at me for a long minute—probably the longest minute of my life. I’ve never been good at being critiqued by someone. My skin prickles, and my heart starts to pound nervously. 

She doesn’t care—she’s in the middle of her interrogation. “Are you here because of Macsen?” she asks sharply.

I have two options. I can feign confusion and pretend I don’t know Macsen or I can tell the truth. I glance one more time at Severine. I don’t know her—or where her loyalties lie. Pretending is the route I’m taking. “No.”

Severine calls me out. “Doesn’t make sense,” she counters. “I saw you two back in May outside the coffee house. You two seemed pretty friendly.”

I grind my teeth. Severine’s memory is sharp. “He dropped his wallet. I found it next to the garbage can and gave it to him.”

Her lips pucker in thought as she takes in my explanation. But I’m actually telling her the truth.

Talking to him outside the coffee shop was a chance encounter. My trip to Kentucky wasn’t to see him, it was a last minute trip to meet Tosha and become familiar with the campus. Instead of flying, I made a roadtrip out of it and drove the thirteen hours by myself. I used that time to think and think and think some more, until my brain was ready to explode from thinking.

When I arrived in Horse Country, I stopped at the coffee shop to meet Tosha. She was late and I sat down to wait. Macsen walked through the door a few minutes later and made a beeline straight to Severine’s table. She had been across the room from me, talking with her friend, completely unaware that I was even there.

The minute Macsen sat down, and Severine looked up, I did what came natural to me.

I watched.

They only talked for a few minutes and it seemed uncomfortable. The two of them kept looking away, and Severine spent more of her time crushing the straw wrapper than looking at Macsen. He got up a few minutes later and paused at the glass door to grab his keys. His wallet fell out, and immediately, my eyes zoomed on the brown, worn out wallet.

He slipped out the door, and I made my move. If I didn’t snatch up the moment and take it, there was something wrong with me.

So, I followed him out to the parking lot and handed him his wallet. We barely talked. He spent most of his time glancing back at the coffee shop and I didn’t press him to talk. I knew there would be many more opportunities.

I blink and look at Severine’s expectant face. “That was the first time I met him.”

It soothes Severine, for the moment, at least. She sits up on her bed and toys with the frayed hem of her blue jean shorts. “Look, I know we’ve started off on the wrong foot.” I nod my head. “But I don’t want there to be this strange tension around us.”

“Neither do I,” I reply. 

“I was just freaked out when I saw you at the coffee house,” she explains. “And when you said you were my roommate, I didn’t know what to think.”

“Do you think I’m out to get you?” I ask teasingly.

Her green eyes are sharp. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m not.” I step forward and tentatively sit down on her bed.  “I’m out to get no one. Promise.”

Lying is easy when you get the hang of it. My words to Severine, the roommate that is just starting to trust me, will be my first lie of many.

But in my mind, the less she knows the better.

MACSEN

Why am I here?

Everyone around me either talks to the person next to them or walks quietly to their next class. They all seem excited.

But most of them probably haven’t cheated on their ex-girlfriend and driven her into the arms of their brother, making them a couple. A couple that goes to the exact same college as me.

And if they did fuck up and make the same mistakes I did, they sure as hell wouldn’t stick around. But that’s the difference between us. They all have the tiny voice in their heads that tells them to do the right thing.

Everyone says that voice is your conscience. I think I once had a conscience, but a long time ago I told mine to fuck off and did what I wanted.

“I’m ready for this class,” my roommate Chris says as he checks out some random girl. “The only reason I’m taking Psych 386—“

I correct him as we walk through the doorway into the open classroom. “Psych 313. How do you not know the course you’re taking?”

He shrugs and winks over at a girl.

Last year Chris, Thayer and I shared an apartment. But Thayer moved out last year after I fucked up. And now it’s just Chris and me.

For the most part, Chris knows my backstory with Thayer. But he doesn’t know all of it.

He doesn’t know that when I was a kid I broke our family apart with one simple lie. Or that I lived with my mom, Laurena, my whole childhood, and that Thayer and my older brother, Mathias, lived with my dad.

He doesn’t know that I was molded by a woman who believes that lies will get you everything you want.

He also doesn’t know that the only reason I transferred here last year was to be closer to Thayer.

If he did, he’d realize just how fucked up my family really is and just how far back our pain goes.

We walk down the steps. He nudges me as I look for a place to sit. “Tim told me that the teacher is…” He cups his hands out in front of him and grins. “If you know what I mean.” I stare at him with a dull expression. “I think I cracked your code.” 

Chris laughs loudly and slaps me on the back. The few people settled in their seats look our way. One of them is Haley. Besides Chris, she’s the only friend I have on campus, and probably the
only
female on campus that doesn’t curl her lip in disgust when my name’s mentioned.

It’s the whole ‘women’s unity’ shit because half of the girls glaring at me don’t even know who I am—they just know the
y
shoul
d
hate me.

I lift my hand in Haley’s direction. She smiles softly and resumes talking to the girl sitting behind her.

All I see of this girl is hair. So much fucking hair.

It blocks most of my view. All I can make out is the upturn of her nose, the slant of her eye, and her lips.

I keep walking and don’t give her another glance.

The front row is empty. No one ever sits down here and that’s the only reason I choose this spot every time. Chris slides into the row behind me.

I pull out my book. Not even a minute later, he’s flicking me on the shoulder.

“Psst ... dude.” I ignore him. “Dude,” he persists.
”

“
What
?”

Chris is leaning back and looking over in Haley’s direction. “Who’s that girl your stalker is talking to?”

I know exactly who he’s talking about. “Haley is not my stalker.”

“Haley is a complete stalker,” he argues. “Freaks me the hell out. But seriously, who’s that girl? She’s fucking—”

I tune him out. From where I’m sitting, I can see more of the girl. She’s something to look at. Big eyes and expressive lips that are slightly parted in thought. I look at Chris and I know he’s thinking the same perverted thoughts. She looks over at us, like she knows what we’re thinking. Her sharp brown eyes land on me for a second, and I think she has sized me up with just one look.

She appears innocent enough, but there’s something there. This girl has a sting—she’ll leave a mark on most guys.

That makes me open my book back up and keep reading.

When Chris taps me on the shoulder a few seconds later, I don’t budge. He talks to my back. “Am I right?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

“You guess?” He laughs. “Did you see the size of her ti-”

Jerking around, I glare at him. “I’m not going to waste this whole semester talking tit sizes with you.” 

Chris laughs and leans back in his chair. “I’ll leave you alone. Just check her out and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

I give her a quick glance and take in her shirt. It’s some white shirt that’s off the shoulder and stretched across her tits. I feel like a fucking perve.

When I look over at Chris I give him a blunt nod. “You’re right.”

“Hell yeah, I’m right.” His chair lands on all fours and he smiles across the aisle.  “Haley! Who are you talking to?”

Right now, I bet Haley is glaring at Chris. I keep my face down and stare at the pages of my book.

“I’m talking to no one,” she snaps. “Mind your own business.”

Telling Chris to mind his own business is like begging for more. There’s no filter on him. “Introduce me to Rapunzel,” he persists. 

I feed my curiosity and look over at the new girl. She watches Haley and Chris snap at each other with serious concentration. She’s intense.

There’s no way in hell I’m stepping near her.

When I look at Chris, he’s sizing up the girl like a piece of meat he wants to take a big bite out of. I want to punch him on the shoulder and tell him to back away slowly from this one. But I kind of want to see how this plays out.

“Rapunzel, what’s your name?” Chris asks.

She’s looking at me the whole time. I’m bracing myself for her name, impatient to hear if it’s something typical—a name recycled over and over.