and for a second I want to run out of here, but I hold steady. I’ve had three months to prepare, and I’m tough. I CAN DO THIS.
Yeah, but you can’t compete with that, a mean voice whispers in my head.
Applause breaks out inside the bar. Blaze lifts a hand and mimics a Miss America wave, his full, carnal lips tugging up in a slow smile that grows, becoming broader and wider. Dude could be a toothpaste model. I swear I hear a gasp from every female in the room. The effect of his mouth is positively infectious. If he were a preacher, he’d be saving souls left and right.
I roll my eyes.
He’s with Dillon McQueen, the backup quarterback, and several other players.
“Oh, yay, the team is back on campus. Let’s celebrate. Yippee,” I mumble to myself as a girl in a Wildcats shirt nearly mows me down in her quest to get to them.
“I know, right?” She stops next to me, stars in her eyes. “Blaze is just…gorgeous, right?”
My lips flatten. “Totes.”
She licks her lips, her eyes darting from him to me. “Wait…did you date him?”
“No.”
“You sure? Now that I think about it, I thought I saw you guys together at the Chi-O homecoming party last fall. Aren’t you that girl, the one he dumped—”
“We never dated,” I practically spit.
We only had sex—three times, to be exact, one time for every week we were “together”. Once in the library and twice in his dorm room. Not once did he buy me a sandwich or offer to take me to a movie—not that I would have accepted, but that’s not the point. The point is he never wanted anything from me except sex.
“That was a banging party though. Glad you came,” I say with a bright smile, keeping my turbulent feelings under lock and key.
She’s not even listening anymore though, her gaze on Blaze and friends. “Yeah. Who are those girls he’s with? You think I have a shot?”
Thetas. The taller one on the right with the slinky navy and orange dress—school colors, of course—honey-colored hair, and blinding red lipstick is the one he escorted all over campus in November and December. Dani. On the nights when I was weak after we broke up, I’d stalk his IG and see pics she’d posted: them at Cadillac’s, in the student center, at a party, in his dorm. I walked a narrow tightrope last fall, avoiding places I thought they might be, going straight to class and then coming right back home.
He never sought me out. Not one time.
“Dani is the one on the right. She’s…uh…with him a lot,” I tell the girl, my voice carefully even.
I’m doing good. I really am. Much better than last fall.
I don’t know the girl on the left, but she’s beautiful, her white-blonde hair straight and silky. Like Dani, she’s dressed in a low-cut, skimpy dress—nothing wrong with that. I have a plethora of low-cut dresses, and I’ve been known to flaunt what I have. Hello, mohair dress.
“Candy with an ‘i’,” Margo says, offering her name, and I guess I must have asked for it. She knows everyone on campus.
My eyes widen at Margo. “Dani and Candi? Stop it. Are they related?”
“Nope. Just Thetas. Nice, right?”
“Flipping fantastic,” I mutter.
In typical college fashion, there’s raging competition between us and the Thetas. They’re the beautiful, rich, party girl sorority while Chi-Os are known for being brainy and attractive in a warm, fuzzy kind of way.
“They’re like…pretty, sleek greyhounds,” Margo says with a little growl, her gaze on the girls.
“Guess that makes us adorable spaniels,” I say and Margo laughs.
Random Girl gives us a wary look, and I realize I’d forgotten she was standing there.
“Ignore us. You should totally take a shot at Blaze if micro-penises are your thing.” The words, again, are devoid of emotion. I am over him. I swear. The fact that my chest is heavy right now does not matter. Not one bit.
“Micro-penis?” Her eyes flare.
“It’s a joke,” I say dryly. “Go get him. Please.” As in, please get out of my sight because I can’t say one more word about him.
She gives me a weird look and then a rushed bye as she heads their way.
The entire place is still whistling and cheering. The applause goes on for an absurdly long time, and my body grows stiffer with each passing moment.
“STL,” I murmur. Stayed too long.
Forget facing him. I’d rather touch a hundred wolf spiders on my pillow while having a root canal with