The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,8
Maybe even put together a record—independently of course.
I don’t want some asshole in a suit telling me what to do.
The Uber driver drops me off in front of my apartment building and I climb out of the car, staring at my door. I can hear music coming from inside. The sound of raucous laughter. My heart immediately lightens and I feel like I’m home. With my friends.
Where I belong.
I march up the walkway and barge in through the door, throwing my arms up as soon as I enter. “The party can begin!” I yell.
There are at least thirty people crowded in my living and dining room, if not more, and all of them roar in approval when they spot me. I see members of our football team. Faces I don’t recognize whatsoever. Lots of pretty girls eyeing me up and down. And scattered among them all, my closest friends.
“You made it,” Eli says as he approaches me. He pulls me in for another hug and murmurs close to my ear, “Just a warning, but my girl and her best friend are plotting your death.”
“Noted,” I tell him with a firm nod, pulling away from him. “I should avoid?”
“At all costs,” Eli says seriously, which is not a normal look for him.
I knew Ellie would be sad. A little mad. But plotting my death?
I bet I can convince her what I did wasn’t so bad. I have in the past.
God, I’m such a dick. She should run screaming from me.
Forgetting Ellie for a moment, I let myself be embraced by our guests. So many people offer their congratulations. Tell me how glad they are that I’m back. I didn’t play much on the Bulldog football team last season, but we’re sophomores now, and I can tell my teammates are ready to embrace me.
It feels good. I feel welcomed. Missed.
Loved.
Diego finds me a beer and we all sit in a circle outside, on the back patio, in the only chairs available out there. People leave us alone, as if they know we need the time to talk. It’s me, Diego, Eli, Tony and Caleb.
“Why haven’t you signed a record deal yet?” This is from Diego, who’s looking at me as if I’m crazy. “I’m sure they’re offering you all the damn money in the world.”
I’m privileged AF and I know it. Diego comes from a middle-class family. A single mama who raised her two sons as best she could. He became a dad when he was eighteen, but he’s doing shit right. Sticking with his girl Jos while they raise their baby girl, Gigi. But he’s all about the money. He hustles during the off-season, trying to provide for his family.
So when he sees me squandering what looks like a good deal, he thinks I’m an idiot. And he’s probably right.
“Is it the money?” Caleb asks. He also comes from a middle-class family. Solid, hardworking parents. “Is it not enough?”
“It’s plenty.” I hesitate, not sure how to word it without sounding like an asshole. But too late. I am an asshole, so I decide to just say it. “But it’s not enough for me to take the deal.”
My dad is fucking rich. He is the manager of one of the most expensive hotels in the Yosemite Valley. Plus, he comes from money. My grandparents were rich too. I’ve had access to whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, my entire life.
Since my parents divorced, it’s been just me and Dad. Mom lives in Oregon. I used to visit her more, but life got busy—for her and for me. Dad has a girlfriend who’s only a few years older than I am, and they like to party. They’ve almost always been my source of booze and weed.
Until I went on tour, and everyone else became my source for booze and weed—among other things.
“How can you turn them all down and settle for this bullshit, when you could be doing so much more?” Diego asks, his voice incredulous. “You’re talented, man. Just—go for it and take the deal.”
How can I explain to them that I don’t want to give up what he calls ‘this bullshit’? I like going to college. Hanging with my friends. Meeting girls. Being on the team. Belonging to something. I have no siblings. Growing up, I spent a lot of time alone, and I hated it. This is why Tony and I bonded so quick last year. We have similar backgrounds.