“Wanna grab some take-out and movies and head over to my place?” Nate drops down onto my unmade bed.
“I was sort of thinking about painting these walls. I don’t think I can get comfortable in this room until I add a dash of pink to it. I just feel so...disconnected from it.”
“I know one way we can break it in.” He waggles his eyebrows, as he leans forward, propping himself up on his elbows.
Then he reaches out and grabs a hold of my arm, pulling me down on top of him. I giggle at his attempt to tickle me, but the truth is, I’m not ticklish at all.
I pull back when Nate’s phone begins buzzing. “Shouldn't you get that.” I direct my attention to the pocket of his shorts.
“Nah, they’ll leave a message.” He pulls me back to him. “Where were we?”
“We can save that for another time.” I kiss his forehead and retreat, standing back up.
“Come on, Harper. We’ve been dating for like two months, and you always shoot me down at every attempt I make to get close to you.”
“I get close to you all the time.” I turn away, hiding my expression. Because he’s right. Anytime he gets too close or talks too seriously about where this thing between us is headed, I shut down. I’m not there yet with him. I’m not sure I ever will be. He’s a great guy, but something about our relationship doesn’t feel complete. I keep trying, in hopes of finding whatever is missing.
Confession: I may have told Nate that I’m not a virgin. I didn’t mean to lie. I never thought that this thing between us would go anywhere. It’s not that I’m ashamed, but I didn’t want him to look at me like a high school kid. He’s a junior at UCLA, and I felt like he would have never given me a chance. At least that’s what I thought at the time.
I start pulling shirts from a box and folding them up neatly, then stacking them in my white dresser that I brought from home. I lift one to my face, taking in the smell—a mixture of vanilla and lavender laundry soap and home. My heart does a little flip at the memories the familiar scent brings. Jinx, my seven-year-old yorkie is probably feeling like I abandoned him. I wanted to bring him so badly, but I worried that he wouldn’t get enough attention while I’m at school all day. I knew this move would be hard, but I never imagined I would feel this homesick on the first day.
“Alright.” Nate gets off the bed. I almost forgot he was even here for a minute.
“I guess I’ll go grab some paint.” He scuffs in disappointment.
“You’re the best.” I tap his nose with my finger and smile, then return to folding shirts.
Once he walks out and closes the door behind him, I drop the shirt in my hand back into the box and fall back onto the bed. I stare at the ceiling, trying to convince myself of the reasons I don’t want to go to that stupid party, anyway.
First and foremost, Axel will be there. He will find a way to humiliate me in front of everyone. Secondly, everyone will be drunk and obnoxious, and I don’t even drink. Third, I’d rather spend the evening alone with Nate. I really like him. Not in a way that has me feeling like I need to spend every waking minute with him, but I do enjoy his company. He has been nothing but kind to me, even if he is a little pushy when it comes to physical affection, or lack thereof.
A double knock at the door sends me off the bed quickly. The last thing I want is for either of my roommates to see me wallowing in self-pity. “Come in,” I say, walking back over to the box and picking up another shirt.
Taya walks in with a big bag of barbeque chips. “Hey girl, please tell me you didn’t let Axel get to you and that you are, in fact, coming to the party tonight.”
“I am not going to the party tonight, but it has nothing to do with Axel. Nate and I have plans.” I pull out my old volleyball shirt from freshman year and hold it up. “This was a good year,” I say, hoping to change the subject. “No worries, no responsibilities—”
“No stupid ex-boyfriends.” She cuts me off, killing my plan to talk about something other than Axel.
I drop the shirt back into the box and turn toward Taya, who is now sitting cross-legged in my mint green convertible chair. “Can we please not talk about him, like ever again?”
“That’s gonna be kind of hard, considering he lives fifty yards from your bedroom.” She pops a chip in her mouth with a smirk on her face.
I walk over and snatch the bag from her hand and dig a handful out, then toss it back to her. “Don’t remind me.”
“I just want to make sure you’re ok. This can’t be easy for you.”
“You mean the fact that the guy I almost loved broke my heart in two, tormented me for an entire year, and not only attends the same four-year college as I do, but also lives directly across the street from me?” I shake my head. “No, not at all.”
“Maybe this is a good thing. Ya know? Maybe you two will be able to push the water under the bridge and move on from this—be friends again.”
I swallow down the mouthful of chips, almost choking on them. “Have you been drinking already? Even if by some off the wall chance Axel decided that he wanted to push the water under the bridge, instead of drowning me in it, I don't think I can ever forgive him for everything he’s done to me. And I certainly don’t want to be his friend. His friendship comes with baggage. I don’t need that in my life.”
“Ok, I get it. Axel Thorn is the biggest asshole in existence, but you know darn well that this is the first of many parties at that house, and I need my best friend with me.”
“Who says that Axel has to throw the best parties? We have a house, too. Kip and Knox are welcome here. Maybe it’s time that he got a taste of his own medicine.” I grin, pleased with myself for the idea.
“Chances are he won’t care. Do you remember the party you threw senior year when three people showed up because Axel decided to have one out of spite?”
“It doesn’t even matter because I don’t care. Can we drop this now?” I start moving everything to the middle of the room, away from the walls to paint.
“What are you doing?”
“Prepping to paint these disgusting walls.” I look around at them, anxious to get this place feeling like home. Adding my own touch to it should do the trick.
“Alright,” she follows me with her eyes, “if that’s how you prefer to spend your evening.” She stands up.
I look over my shoulder as she turns to leave. “Leave the chips.”
She drops the bag back onto the chair. “Please consider coming. I’ve got your back, and he came over here just to tell you that you could.”
“Not happening,” I blurt out, not even thinking first. I don’t need to.
Once she’s gone, I continue moving things around. I can’t help but feel envious of Taya. I’m not jealous, by any means, I’m happy that she is in good graces with everyone. I just wish that I could have the same comfort. I miss the old days. I miss life before us.
I push open the window, opposite the broken one, letting some fresh air inside. At least the screen is intact. The house is pretty old, and it’s obvious that it has been passed down for many generations of college students. In fact, the whole street is full of students. There are a couple larger fraternity houses mixed in the bunch. All these houses are part of the UCLA residential community, but most of them are privately-owned.