Read Happenstance 3 Page 12


  Julianne and I chuckled.

  "It's so true," she said, shaking her head. "Remember that time--"

  "Yes," Sam said, cutting her off. "Let's not revisit it." He looked to me. "That boy is going to figure out what he's done, and if he has any sense, he'll come back on his knees, begging for your forgiveness."

  "He won't have to beg," I said, touching my necklace while looking out the window.

  "Class dismissed," Professor Kelley said, her blonde curls bouncing.

  I gathered my things and followed the herd to the hallway. Then, I made my way down the steps and out the exit toward Bennett Hall.

  Fall was always unpredictable in Oklahoma. Thanksgiving break was just a day away, and although the sun was shining, it wasn't uncommon for the state to see a thirty-degree drop in temperature the next day.

  The weather was on the warmer side, but the relentless wind was chilly. I pulled my coat tighter as I walked back to my dorm, keeping my head down.

  For as long as I had dreamed about my college days at Oklahoma State University, never once had I imagined coming home for the holidays, but Julianne would be cooking a turkey, and Sam had offered to pick me up after whatever reason he'd made up to be in Stillwater the last day before break.

  I crossed Hall of Fame Avenue, and then turned east toward Bennett Hall. Someone jogged next to me and walked several steps before I looked up to see who it was.

  I froze. "Brady," I said.

  He towered over me, a smug expression on his face. "OSU must be desperate. They're just letting anyone in these days."

  I stuffed my hands in my pockets, glaring up at him. I hadn't let Weston retaliate for when they jumped him, hoping to spare us all more violence. Running into Brady had been at the back of my mind since orientation, but I was certain about one thing. Brady Beck wasn't allowed to intimidate me anymore.

  "Well," I said, continuing my walk home, "it is a state school."

  Brady followed.

  "One of my frat brothers was asking about you when he found out where you graduated. I told him you had a raging case of herpes."

  "How very mature of you."

  Brady jerked me to a stop by my coat, and leaned in. "

  I yanked away, and he blinked. "This isn't high school, Brady. No one cares who your parents are or what kind of truck you drive. No one even cares if you're an asshole. Not even me. But this is the rest of my life, and you're not invited."

  Brady laughed once. "That's it? That's your big speech?"

  I tilted my head. "Is that what you want? A speech? Theatrics?" I shook my head. "I don't need to hate you to feel better about myself, and here you are, begging for me to pay you some attention. Chasing me down for any pathetic morsel you can get."

  Brady shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  "Do you hear me?" I asked, leaning toward him, refusing to even blink. "I don't hate you, Brady. I don't feel anything toward you at all."

  He looked at me with pure disgust. "Well, I hate you, you nasty cunt."

  I stared straight into his eyes. "I know. We've established that. Can we both move on with our lives, now? Or do you require more of my attention?"

  "Fuck you," he said, walking away.

  I exhaled, and continued on my trek to Bennett. I felt a thousand pounds lighter with every step, knowing that if Brady ever thought of speaking to me again, my words would be in the back of his mind. Precedence had been set, and any additional interaction between us would further prove my theory. I knew Brady was too proud to allow that to happen. His pride was even stronger than his need to be a bully.

  As I approached my dorm, the crowd grew thicker as students entered and exited the building.

  "Erin!" a high-pitched voice called from the crowd.

  Rebecca, my copper-haired neighbor was slipping around fellow students to get tome. "Hey!" She was always chipper, no matter if it was seven a.m. or midnight.

  "Last Chance party at the Lambda Chi's Animal House tonight."

  "No, thank you," I said, pulling open the door to Bennett's lobby.

  "Oh, c'mon! Please!" she said.

  Rebecca was from Hobart, Oklahoma--a town with a population even smaller than Blackwell--and her accent was exceptionally Southern.

  "I have to study, don't you?" I asked.

  "Yes?" she said, sounding more like a question than an answer.

  I shook my head. "There is nothing going on at that party that is more important than my Music Appreciation test. I have a B at the moment."

  "Bs are good, Erin!"

  "My parents are paying for my education. If a B is my best, okay, but I owe it to them and myself to study for this test to see if I can do better."

  Rebecca snarled her lip. "You are spending too much time with your adviser."

  When we reached the elevator, Rebecca pressed the button for the second floor. "I have to study, too. I was hoping you would talk me out of it."

  "You knew I wouldn't."

  "Yeah, pretty sure that's why I asked you and not Hannah Matthews."

  Hayden Wentz rushed in before the doors could close.

  Rebecca's posture immediately improved, and her smile changed from goofy to demure.

  Hayden glanced at both of us, trying not to breathe all over us as he puffed from his sprint. He offered a quick nod. "Thanks."

  "Are you going to the Lambda Chi party tonight?" Rebecca said.

  "Yeah," he said. "I'm an initiate, so I kind of have to."

  "Oh," Rebecca said, batting her eyes. She looked at me with a pleading expression.

  "No," I said.

  "No what?" Hayden asked, suddenly curious.

  "I don't want to go."

  "Okay," he said, confused. "I didn't ask you, not that I wouldn't. I've thought about it actually, but I wasn't...never mind."

  Rebecca's mouth fell open.

  "What? No," I said too emphatically. "She...I didn't think you were asking me. I was telling her that I...never mind."

  Rebecca began to giggle, and I closed my eyes, mortified.

  The elevator opened, and I practically lunged for the hallway. Rebecca followed, still snickering.

  "Oh my God," I grumbled.

  "Didn't you hear him? He likes you!"

  I wrinkled my nose. "He doesn't even know me."

  "Okay, he's attracted to you. You should go."

  I slipped the key into the lock and gave it a jiggle before turning the knob. "Give it up, Bec. Do what you want, but I'm not going."

  I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, closing my eyes.

  I wasn't blind. Hayden was the most attractive guy in Bennett Hall, but he was also a huge jerk. He was from Tonkawa, a tiny town separated from Blackwell by just fifteen minutes of pasture and farmland.

  But having even a moment of attraction toward anyone only made me think of Weston, and mostly, I just tried to forget. That was another reason I was sure Sam was coming to Stillwater to get me. My parents were afraid I wouldn't come home just so I could avoid running into Weston.

  I peeled off my jacket, let my backpack slide off my shoulders onto the floor, and trudged over to my chair. Living alone in a suite that size made me feel like I was back at Gina's even though this was much cleaner.

  When the homework was finished, I caught up on all my television shows and social networking with Sam and Julianne. Then, I scrubbed the clean counters until they were cleaner, and I mopped the pristine tiles until they were more pristine.

  I reached an all-time low when I wiped down the inside of the refrigerator only because it was losing the smell of the organic cleaner that reminded me of home.

  My cell phone chimed, and I tugged on it until it came out of my back pocket. Hailey from Music Appreciation was asking for notes and if I was going to the Animal House.

  I typed out a quick, No, set down my cell phone, and sighed when it chimed again. This time, it was a group message with Alex, Anna, and Renee from my Humanities class.

  Nope. Not go
ing.

  I locked the screen and set the phone on the coffee table, sitting back. It was nice to have friends, but college made it too easy to make too many at a time. That was one more thing I hadn't anticipated.

  My cell phone chimed again, and I groaned. The side button clicked when I slid it to silent mode. "No, I'm not going to the party, whoever you are," I said aloud.

  I glared at my backpack, knowing my study guide was somewhere inside, and I would need to dig it out soon to study.

  Just when I stood up, a knock on the door startled me. Fed up, I stomped over, twisted the knob, and swung it open.

  "I'm not going to the par..."

  Weston Gates stood in my doorway with a hopeful grin on his face.

  "...TY," I FINISHED.

  "What party?" he asked with a smile.

  I nearly recoiled and felt my brows pull in. "What are you doing here?"

  "I messaged you to let you know I was coming," he said, deflated by my reaction.

  "When?" I asked, turning to look back at my cell phone still lying on the coffee table.

  "From the parking lot. So, about two minutes ago." He waited for me to say something, and when I didn't, he shrugged. "Can I come in?"

  "No."

  "Oh."

  "I have to study. I have a big test tomorrow before my Sam comes to take me home."

  "Yeah. I told him I'd do it."

  "What?"

  "Come get you. I've been home for a couple of days. I've been at your house the whole time...pretty much."

  "Sam said you could pick me up?"

  "Yeah. Is that okay?" He paused. "You're really not going to let me come in?"

  "You're a day early."

  He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. "I know. I'll come back. I couldn't wait even one more day to see you, Erin. I tried."

  His eyes caught the glint off my necklace, and I tucked it beneath the collar of my shirt.

  He looked up at me from under his long lashes, a sweet half smile on his face.

  It became increasingly difficult to breathe. I'd tried so hard for over three months to forget about his eyes, the hair that had now grown into his eyes, and his soft bronze skin that was now more of an olive. He seemed a bit taller, a bit thicker, and maybe even a little older, more experienced. I wondered what kind of experiences he'd had.

  Hayden passed and paused, recognizing Weston.

  "Hey, man. You're going here?" Hayden asked. He then drew his own conclusions. "Oh, Erin, when I said that, I didn't know y'all were talking."

  Weston's eyes danced back and forth between Hayden and me before he furrowed his brow and took a step back.

  "No," Hayden said, noticing Weston's body language. "Something happened in the elevator earlier..."

  Weston backed up another step, trying hard not to lose his cool. He began to breathe through his nose, two deep lines forming between his brows. I could guess what he was thinking, but I didn't correct him. When Weston had something in his head, it would be impossible to change his mind.

  Hayden held both of his hands up and then interlaced them on top of his shaggy blond hair. "Shit. That's not what I meant. Nothing happened in the elevator."

  Weston turned and began to walk away, but Hayden tried to stop him. Weston grabbed him by the collar of his coat and rammed him against the wall. Weston's expression said everything without him even opening his mouth.

  Hayden held up his hands, blinking. "Just...listen. I thought she thought I had asked her to the party tonight. It was a big misunderstanding. We were both embarrassed. We got out of the elevator. It was super awkward. That's the end of it, I swear."

  Weston looked at me for confirmation.

  I nodded.

  Weston released his coat, and Hayden took several steps away.

  "I'm sorry," he said to Weston. He looked to me. "Really, very sorry."

  I shook my head to let Hayden know it was okay, but he barely took the time to notice before he was mashing the button for the elevator. The doors opened, and he poked repeatedly on the button for them to close.

  Weston was visibly working to calm down. "I'm sorry, Erin. That took me completely off guard. I knew it was possible that you could be seeing someone, but I didn't expect that reaction. I'm just as surprised as you are."

  "I'm not really that surprised," I said.

  My words wounded him.

  "This is the last time I'm going to ask you, Erin, and then I'll leave. Can I come in?"

  "No," I said without hesitation.

  He breezed past me, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I said, spinning around.

  Weston walked toward me, reached around me to shut the door, and then stepped back. "I changed my mind."

  "Well, you can't. I told you, I have to study."

  "What?"

  "Music Appreciation."

  "I appreciate music."

  "No, Weston, it's more difficult than it sounds. I've been struggling. I need to do well on this test, and it's in the morning."

  "I'll help you," he said, desperate.

  I narrowed my eyes, dubious.

  "I swear!" he said.

  "I could call Sam, you know. He would make you leave."

  Weston walked over to the couch and crossed his arms. "Not without a fight." He sat down.

  I sighed. "I don't have time for this."

  "Then, let's get started." He pulled out his phone, tapped it a few times. "Pepperoni?" he asked.

  "You know I like pepperoni, but I don't need your help."

  "You don't really want me to leave," he said with such confidence that I wanted to throw something at him.

  Instead, I stared at him, unable to answer.

  He tapped his phone a few more times. "I'm ordering pizza. It'll be here in forty minutes."

  I lifted my bag and brought it over to the chair before setting it on the floor. The zipper made a high-pitched noise as I pulled on it, and then I fished around until I found my folder.

  "Your bag looks heavy. You carry that around everywhere?"

  I closed my eyes and huffed. "Why are you here, Weston?"

  He didn't answer, so I peeked over at him.

  "You already know."

  "Just tell me, so we can get this over with." Saying that to him made my chest burn, and my legs felt shaky as an overwhelming nausea hit me like a tidal wave.

  Whatever I was feeling, Weston felt worse.

  "I deserved that," he said, nodding. "Study first. Talk later. Or not. We don't have to. You don't owe me anything."

  I warily eyed him. "What is it that you want?"

  One side of his mouth pulled up. "You're different."

  "Good."

  He laughed once without humor. "I miss you, Erin. I thought I could get over you, but I can't. What I did do was a lot of thinking, a lot of talking to other girls who weren't and will never be you."

  I winced. His admission stung.

  "Everyone kept telling me it was going to get better--my roommates, my instructors, my parents...your parents."

  "You've been talking to my parents?"

  "It hasn't. It will never get better. I used to wonder how long it was going to last. Now, I wonder how long I'm going to last."

  "That's not funny," I said.

  "I mean, in Texas. I knew it was going to be hard to be there without you. Not having you at all is worse."

  "That was your choice," I said.

  "You're right. Just like you said, I did this."

  I fidgeted. That awful feeling that had swallowed me when he left was bubbling at my feet, threatening to crawl up my legs.

  "Do you hate me?" he asked.

  "I try to--every day."

  He nodded. "I deserve that, too."

  "Did you..." I began, hating myself already. "Have you...dated anyone in Texas?"

  "It depends. If it makes you jealous and you want me back, then yes. If it makes you jealous and makes you hate me even more, then no."


  "Just tell me the truth."

  His eyes fell to the floor and lost focus. "Couldn't even bring myself to look at anyone else like that. It made me miss you even more, and I was already going through hell."

  "Me, too."

  "No one?" he asked, the tiniest bit of hope in his eyes.

  I slowly shook my head. I wasn't even sure if it was noticeable.

  "Erin," he said, thoughtful, careful, "what if I said I screwed up? What if I said I'm sorry?"

  "You've said that before."

  He nodded, looking intently into my eyes. "What if I said I love you and that I don't care how it happens--whether we're friends, back together, or something in between--as long as I don't have to miss you anymore?"

  "You'll still miss me. We're four hours away."

  "I just drove that. It's nothing, not when I'm on my way to see you. Erin"--he cautiously chose his words--"I'm still in love with you. I've tried to stop. I've tried to hate you, forget you, forgive you--"

  "For what?" I snapped.

  His face fell. He looked broken. "For loving me in a way that I can't get over. You are the best thing I've ever given up."

  My expression crumbled, and I looked down, picking at my nails. "We can't go back, Weston, and that is what I think about every day. That's what I miss. I'm not even sure I know you."

  "We've outgrown the way we felt," he said with a confidence I'd never seen in him before. "I don't love you like that anymore. That was selfish and impatient and not about you." He lowered his chin. "What if I beg?" He moved forward, kneeling in front of me. He touched my face, using his thumb to brush away the tear falling down my cheek. "We were just falling in love then. I'm done falling, Erin. I love you--without expectations, without demands. Hell, just with the hope that you love me back."

  I breathed out a laugh. "Sam said if you came back, you'd do it on your knees."

  "I'll lie on the floor if you want."

  My lips formed a hard line as I tried to suppress a smile.

  "Please?" he said, desperation in his voice. His twin green pools scanned my face and then glossed over. "Erin?"

  He was so close. His fingers still felt soft on my skin. The old scars that had faded but not disappeared warned me that the person in front of me had caused me pain. The things he had made me feel were ugly, and I should make him leave and make him stay away from me.

  But those scars were only skin deep. Beneath them were my heart, the parts of me that bled, my soul, and the Erin who could forgive and smile regardless of the past hurt. The protected pieces had gone untouched by anyone but Weston.