Jersey Girl (Sticks & Hearts #1) (6 page)

Me: So u know my struggle?

Him: All 2 well.

Me: How'd u deal?

Him: Tequila. Lots of tequila.

Me: I'm afraid that's not a viable option.

Him: Don't drink?

Me: Underage. Lack of access 2 said tequila.

Him: Bummer.

Me: If I pass, u can treat me 2 a shot.

Him: U got it.

Me: I'm bored, B. Talk 2 me. Can't go 2 my room.

Him: Why not?

Me: Roommate's having sex.

Him: Yeah, been there 2.

Me: First 4 me.

Him: I'd say it gets easier, but that's a lie.

Me: Gee, thanks.

Him: Don't mention it.

Me: Can I ask u something, B?

Him: I'm all thumbs.

Me: Ha ha ur really funny. Do u have a girlfriend?

Him: Nope.

Me: That's a shame.

Him: Really? Why?

Me: Cause u seem like a sweet guy. I like u B-Man. Ur starting to grow on me.

Him: Thanks. I think ur growing on me 2.

Me: Does this mean u will tutor me?

Him: Maybe.

Me: Well, time's wasting. Will u tell me if that maybe turns into a yes?

Him: Maybe.

Me: I'm starting 2 not like u very much.

Five minutes pass before he responds and I'm grinning like an idiot when I read what it says.

Him: I'll risk it.

CASSIE

With today's classes behind me, I begin the long walk back to the dorms. This week has been rough. I'm not sleeping well, and my eating habits have gone to shit. My day ended after two torturous hours in music composition. Just before I left for Ann Arbor, I'd written a new song. I spent the better part of the morning sitting at a piano, working through a section that isn't coming together like I envisioned.

One thing I've learned since arriving is that it's nearly impossible to eat healthy. Okay, there's a salad bar in the cafeteria. And they have a wide assortment of pre-made salads and soups. But then I move to the other side of the room and see signs for pizza, hoagies, tacos, and Italian. Honestly, it's too much. If I'm not careful, I'll gain ten pounds in my first month on campus.

Climbing the steps to my room, I'm greeted by many of the acquaintances I've made since classes started. A group of us try to meet every Wednesday night just to hang out. We usually eat popcorn and watch a movie, though some nights all we do is sit around and gossip. For instance, just this week I learned a girl who lives down the hall from me is a dancer at a strip club. Some of the guys in our group went there last week and she performed for them. So, when I'm walking up the stairs and look up to see her coming my way, I'm naturally intrigued. I want to grab her by the arm and ask all about it. What's it like? How much money does she make? What prompted her to start stripping? The questions are endless. Not that I'm considering stripping for a living, or anything like that. I'm just naturally a curious person. I fight the urge, and we brush past each other without so much as a word or backward glance.

When I come to our door, I pause, knocking loudly four times before turning the handle.

"Geez, Louise. Come in, you dork." Veronica is stretched out on her bed, reading a book, when I poke my head in the room. "Will you knock it off already?"

"Hey, I've been traumatized. The last thing I want to see after a long day is your naked ass in the air." I drop my bag on the floor and collapse on the hard mattress.

"What's wrong with my ass?" she pouts, twisting her head around to check out her butt.

"Nothing at all. You have a perfectly fine ass. Nicely shaped. Pert in all the right places. I'm just not partial to staring at naked women."

"Would you be happier if I always have the guy's ass pointed toward the door?" She bites down on her lip to refrain from cracking up.

I ponder her offer for a moment and then shrug. "It depends. If he's standing, then it's a yes. But, if he's bent over and I see his balls, then definitely no."

"Ohmygod, you are so crazy!" She grabs a balled-up sock off the floor and throws it at me. Then she sits up and bounces on the edge of her bed. One thing I've learned about my new roommate, she's a very hyper person. "What are you doing tonight?"

"No plans. I'll probably study my calculus notes and start season 5 of SOA."

"Wrong. We're going to a party!"

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Why not?" she pouts. "You never do anything, and Josh invited me, so now I'm inviting you."

"Who's Josh?" I narrow my eyes and wait while she squirms uncomfortably. "Veronica?"

"Okay, okay. He's the guy you caught me with."

"You mean the one you were riding like Seabiscuit? Yeah, no, thanks."

"Oh, come on. This will be good for you. You can get out and meet people. Besides, season 5 sucks. Something bad happens to Opie and Jax spends the rest of the season angry." She fans her hand in front of her as if my plans are insignificant. Not to mention, she just spoiled the entire season for me.

"Gee, thanks. I would have preferred finding out on my own. Now you've ruined it."

"Trust me, it was not pretty. I'm sparing you the gory discovery. Now, what do you say? Stay home and
not
be surprised, or go out with me and have fun?"

"You're not going to shut up until I say yes, are you?"

"Probably not."

I breathe out a long sigh and dangle my legs over the edge of the bed. "What time do we leave?"

***

I've been ready and waiting for fifteen minutes while Roni primps in the bathroom. While I hang out, I pass time scrolling through social media. I post a selfie on Instagram with the hashtag #partywithseabiscuit, then shoot off a quick text to my mom to say I'll call her on Sunday. I'm in the middle of typing out another to see how much longer Roni will be, when one comes through for me.

I know it's wrong, because he's my brother's friend who's made it clear he will never touch me again, but when I see his name, I get tingly all over.

Him: What's up?

Me: Not much. Heading 2 a party.

Him: The one at Sig Phi?

Me: Hmm, let me check.

"Hey, Veronica." I have to yell over the noise of her hairdryer. "This party we're going to, is it at Sig Phi?"

"Yeah. That's Josh's frat house." My eyes roll toward the ceiling. Great. I'm pretty sure she'll end up spending the night and I'll walk home alone. Lucky me.

Me: That's the one.

Him: Watch out for those Sig boys.

Me: Aww, ur worried about me.

Him: Well, u know, underage and all. I'd rather u share your first tequila shot with me.

Me: What makes u think I'm a tequila virgin?

Him: Call it a hunch. I've been thinking...

Me: Sounds dangerous.

Him: On occasion, yes.

Me: What's up?

Him: Remember that maybe?

Me: I do. I'm still angry with u.

Him: Well, I can't have that now, can I? Now it's a yes.

Me: Aww, B. I'm touched.

Him: Told u I'm a nice guy.

Me: U kinda dig me, don't u, B?

Him: Just meet me tomorrow at 5.

Me: I knew it!

Him: It's turning back into a maybe.

Me: Fine. Deny your true feelings. See u at 5.

What a goofball
. I stare at the screen and feel a twinge of guilt for deceiving him. I know I run the risk of him showing up at the coffee house and storming back out when he realizes I'm Candy. I hate lying, yet I also hate he'd been so quick to push me away.

***

Wild doesn't begin to describe the scene greeting us when we walk through the door at Sigma Phi house. A half-naked girl comes screaming down the stairs and runs out the door we just entered, while a shirtless, tattooed guy darts between the gawkers to chase after her. My first inclination is to be concerned for her safety, then I hear her make a reference to their relationship being over, and I realize these two exhibitionists know one another. After that, we all go back to what we were doing.

One glance around the room and I'm already preparing an early escape. To the left of the front door is a large room that must hold a hundred students, and most of them are crowded around a pool table or the bank of foosball tables lining the perimeter of the room. A secondary staircase sits on the far side of the room. Guys and girls wearing bathing suits are packed on the stairs like sardines as they wait their turn to dive into an awaiting blow-up pool filled with a red, gelatinous substance.

We weave our way through the room in search of the kitchen, somehow managing to avoid getting sprayed by red chunks flying through the air. Three large kegs greet us when we reach our destination and, not surprisingly, so does Josh.

"You made it!" he calls to Roni as she gets closer. Taking her by the hand, he pulls her in for an open-mouthed kiss, and it's hard not to recall the last time I saw him. Even if it was a brief glance, I've been scarred for life. I may never look at him the same way. He glances over, finally acknowledging my presence, and a scowl fills his face. "Who's your friend?"

"You remember my roommate, Cassie?" My eyes shoot daggers her way, but miraculously, she remains unaffected. The way she clings to Josh's chest only proves my earlier guesstimate I will be on my own heading home tonight.

"Oh, yeah. Hey, sorry about that little scare, but maybe you should try knocking next time." With that, he turns, leading Roni into the adjoining room, and I'm left standing with a look of pure hatred on my face.
What a jerk
.

Rolling my eyes, I fill a red plastic cup with beer and make my way through the crowded kitchen and into the next room. This house seems to be a never-ending maze of rooms, each one seemingly larger than the one you just left. While passing a group of nerdy looking guys standing in the corner, I learn this particular fraternity houses forty upperclassmen. I whistle under my breath, failing to understand the allure of living with that many people. I like solitude and value my privacy. Having a roommate sleeping less than five feet from my own bed took some getting used to, but the thought of that many people walking around, with the ability to get up in my personal space at any given moment, is enough to send shivers down my spine.

No matter how many times I've looked, I can't seem to find Roni anywhere. I take a sip of my beer and instantly want to spit it back out. Keg beer.
Yuck
. I'm most certainly not a fan. Finally, I give up my search and take up residence in one corner of the game room. The windowsill is lined with red solo cups, so I think nothing of adding one more to the mix. By now, the pool divers are completely covered in gelatinous goo, and I pity the poor sap charged with cleaning it up tomorrow. There's a spot on one of the sofas in the room, but I can only imagine what has taken place on those cushions, and that vision keeps me standing. All around me, couples are hooking up and seem completely oblivious to the fact a hundred other students surround them. I'm all for PDA, but what I'm witnessing goes way beyond that. The couple on the sofa looks like they're eating each other's faces off. Next to them, another girl is straddling some guy's lap while he plays with her breasts. Instantly, I feel my cheeks flush, so I turn my head and pretend I didn't see anything before I give up and move to the opposite side of the room.

At one point, I'm watching a heated game of foosball when I get the feeling someone is checking me out. I look up, and when our eyes meet, he takes it as an invitation to join me, and I'm trapped while he talks about how wonderful life is at the frat house. From what I gather, since he's drunk and openly slurring, he's a junior who's solely responsible for planning the entire party. Somehow, I find that hard to believe, but I just smile and continue feigning interest.

The pleasantries come to an end when he starts getting touchy-feely. It starts with him running the knuckles of one hand over my cheek, while the other skims over my hip.

"What do you say we continue this conversation upstairs? I've got a room up there where it's quiet and we can get to know one another better." I raise my shoulder to my cheek in an attempt to remove his hand, while at the same time taking a small step to the side.

"Sorry. My roommate and I are meeting up in a few and heading out. Maybe some other time." I don't wait for him to respond, but the look on his face indicates he isn't drunk enough to miss I've just blown him off.

I duck away and head for the stairs. I still can't find Veronica, but I dash up the stairs for one last look around. I spot a couple on the landing, locked in what appears to be a tender embrace, but at second glance I realize I'm witnessing something much more intimate. She's wearing a short denim skirt, and his hand is between her parted legs. Her head is thrown back and her eyes are closed. His mouth covers hers, muffling her screams, but I'm unable to tear my eyes away as I watch the orgasm roll through her body and she collapses into him. Beads of sweat form at my temples, and suddenly I feel as if I have on way too many clothes. Pleasure courses through my body, and I know if I reach between my own legs I'll find I'm soaking wet. It's been a long time since I've been on the receiving end of anything as stimulating as that.

I turn, embarrassed and feeling every bit the voyeur for watching their moment of intimacy. Although, in my defense, they were in the middle of a crowded frat house. I mean, who does that? People in love? Two people so sexually attracted to one another they can't keep their hands off each other? The last scenario strikes a nerve within me, and I'm back to longing for the touch of a stranger. Well, not just any stranger. One specific dark-haired hockey player comes to mind. I'm embarrassed to even think about him. I know he's off-limits. I've heard it from Scotty, and from Brantley himself, but it doesn't erase what transpired between us before he knew me as 'Scotty's kid sister.' God, sometimes I hate that label, and thinking about it upsets me further. I pass a bathroom that is miraculously available and duck inside to escape. Sagging against the door, I find myself wishing I were back home in Illinois.