It’s already looking like there will be many sleepless nights and a high need for my earbuds. I’m not sure what school nights look like around here, but I hope it’s more mellow than the weekends. Classes don’t start for another week, so the plan is to get settled in, for me, anyway. It looks like my roomies, and the rest of the neighborhood, have other plans.
Most would say that I’m a party-pooper. They would be correct. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very social, but I prefer to socialize in the daylight hours and soberly. I don’t judge at all; I just dismiss myself early whenever I attend social functions. I prefer to miss the drama and alcohol-induced antics of my drunken friends. There is no reason behind my lack of drinking; I just don’t enjoy it.
My phone rings on the bed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I walk over and pick it up.
“Hey,” I say to Nate.
“Bad news. I have to reschedule our plans. Your delightful neighbor needs his AC fixed, and apparently, if it doesn’t happen tonight then shit will hit the fan. According to the dad of your friend, Axel.”
“Ahh, you’ve met Mr. Thorn? Lucky you.” I chuckle. “Can you come over after?”
“Unfortunately, no. Dad wants me to drive up to Bakersfield and check out some properties with him. I planned to leave in the morning, but he just called and said we are meeting with the agent first thing. This will give me a head start, so I don’t have to get up early and drive there.”
“That stinks.” I sigh in disappointment. “It’s ok, though. Enjoy your time with your dad.”
“I’ll try. I’ll give ya a call tonight.” He pauses. “Hey, think about going with your friends tonight, it would be good for you to get out and meet some new people. If that asshat Axel gives you any trouble, just let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll be fine here alone. Don’t worry about me.”
We say our goodbyes, and the line goes dead.
I look out the open window and see a group of people in the yard of the house behind us. Everyone is laughing and carrying on, without a care in the world. All the while, my friends are primping themselves to go somewhere that I’m not wanted.
I need to quit feeling sorry myself. It’s time to get over this thing that has been dragged out for far too long. Axel and I dated and broke up, what’s the big deal? It happens.
We can co-exist.
I refuse to let him dictate my life anymore.
I pull myself away from the window and step out of my bedroom. “Taya,” I holler.
“Yeah?”
“Wanna do my makeup for the party?”
“Hell yes, I do.” She comes flying around the corner and into my arms. “What changed your mind?”
“Screw Axel and his attempt to make my life miserable. I’m taking my life back.” My lips tip up in a smile. “And this time, I’m living.”
3
Axel
“If he’s not here within the next thirty minutes, then I’m withholding next month's rent,” I say to Dad on the other end of the phone.
“Calm your ass down. You’ve been in that house all of ten hours, give him a chance to get over there.”
“I’ve got plans tonight. You call him back and tell him to get here now.” My voice is loud and authoritative.
“He said he’d be—”
I hang up on him done with this conversation. I already knew what he was going to say. He’ll be there when he can. Part of the owners’ responsibility is upkeep, and air conditioning, in this extreme temperature, is a necessity.
Dad is the one who got us into this house, when I insisted we be in this area with some of the other new students from Redwood. All of the houses were occupied, so he had to pull some strings to get us in one. In the end, it worked out. I just wish we could have been a couple houses or cities away from Harper. I had no idea, until we arrived, that she was even attending UCLA. She was supposed to be at a community college. Then again, no one ever tells me what that girl is up to. Not talking about her is an unspoken rule I’ve made. Looks like that rule has been eliminated now that it’s nearly impossible to ignore her existence.
I pull open the fridge and grab a bottled beer, twisting the top off and tossing it on the counter. A forceful knock at the door has me walking through the kitchen and out into the living room, where the main entrance is.
I pull the door open. “What the hell do you want?” I scowl at the man who just had his hands all over Harper.
“I’m here to fix your air.” He holds up a bag of tools and pushes his way past me, as if he owns the place.
I stick my head out the door and look both ways to see if someone else is coming along. The landlord— Harper maybe? He seems to be alone. I let the door slam shut and follow behind him, through the kitchen to the furnace closet.
“You work for the HVAC company or something?” I tip my beer back and let the liquid slide down my throat, taking in that first bitter taste of deliciousness.
“Something like that,” he says, digging into his bag on his knees in front of the furnace. He pulls out a flashlight and begins looking around the unit. “This is my house, along with all of the others on this street. And don’t think for a minute that I don’t know your pull here. Take note, all your daddy’s money can’t buy my respect, so I suggest you and your buddies keep it cool.”
“Woah,” I put my hands up, “someone needs a drink. Chill out, Man. We’re all good.”
Adara snatched herself up a real tool.
I lean over the black granite countertop with my beer in one hand. “What’s up with you and Harper?” I ask, having no shame in prying into their personal lives.
“What’s up with you and Harper?” he retorts, still looking around the closet with his light, as if he’s expecting to find something useful.
I’m starting to feel like this guy has no idea what he’s doing. “You sure you don’t want to call in a professional? I’d like this fixed within the next twenty minutes before my guests arrive.”
He shuts his flashlight off and drops it into his bag, then stands up, turning to face me. “I know exactly what I’m doing. You didn’t answer my question.” His voice is forthright and stern.
“You didn’t answer mine.” I take a swig of my beer, finishing it off and slamming the bottle on the counter.
“Harper’s my girlfriend. Do you have a problem with that?”
I let out a forced laugh. “Nope, the problem is all yours now.” I shake my head and walk out of the kitchen. “Get that fixed for me, would ya?”
“I don’t know what your history is with her, and I don’t really give a damn, but if I find out you are anything but nice to her, we will have problems,” he says, with my back to him.
I turn around quickly. “Then it looks like we’ve got a problem because your girlfriend is the last person in the world I plan to play nice with.”
He takes a step toward me with his chest puffed out. Scrawny arms, tall bean pole body and a beach bum tan don’t intimidate me in the least. I might be an inch shorter than him at six-foot, but my reputation precedes me. He just doesn’t know that—yet. Solid muscle looks back at him as I stand here in just shorts, my biceps the size of his thighs, and my abs as rigid as his boney-ass knuckles. He’s a moron to even try and start shit with me.