The Freshman (College Years 1)

“Fitting. I’m the angel, and you’re the devil.” I open the passenger side door of my beautiful white Range Rover and toss my backpack on the black leather seat before I shut it, rounding the front of the vehicle before I open the driver’s side door. “It’s been an interesting conversation with you, Tony, that’s for sure.”

“Hey, it’s worked in my favor. Yours too, you know.” He steps closer when I shut the door and roll down the window, and he leans his forearm on the window’s edge. “You said love is for pussies. We can do whatever we want, we just can’t fall in love, right?”

“Right.” I start the car and then turn to look at him, my gaze snagging on his thick forearm, the light smattering of dark hair that covers it. He’s got nice arms.

He’s got nice everything.

But he’s only eighteen, the angel on my shoulder says.

So what? Eighteen and primed to fuck, isn’t that what they always say?

That’s from the naughty devil on my other shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I can see the cogs turning in your brain. I’m not going to fall in love with you, Channing,” he tells me with a grin, pushing away from my car.

“I’m not going to fall in love with you either, Sorrento,” I toss back at him, rolling up the window. I back out of the parking space, Tony watching me the entire time so intently, my palms start to sweat and I turn at a terrible angle. So bad, I have to drive forward before I can back out, properly this time.

His mere presence is intimidating me, and from the giant grin on his face, he knows it.

I pull up beside him and give him the finger before I gun the gas pedal so hard, my tires squeal.

As I drive home, I give myself a pep talk. I am definitely not going to fall in love with that boy. No matter how many moves Mr. Mysterious has in his arsenal. I can withstand his charm.

I know I can.

Nine

Tony

“What are you up to, bro?”

This comes from Jackson, a few hours after my encounter with Hayden on campus—or I guess you could say, our encounter with Hayden, since all my friends were there.

Acting like a bunch of dumb fucks, but yeah.

We’re currently at my condo I share with Caleb and Diego. Eli and Jackson are over, hanging out with us, and Diego is with Jocelyn. They’ve gotten back together after a rough time apart, and they have a baby. He already told us he’s moving in with her next semester, which is cool. I get it. Hell, I encouraged it. They need to be together. Those two love each other, and they want to make it work.

Since living in the dorms isn’t required for freshmen at Fresno State, I fully planned on finding my own apartment near campus—Dad offered to pay, why would I turn him down? Somehow, though, I was convinced over the summer that living with a couple of assholes was a good idea.

Who am I kidding? I didn’t want to live alone. I’ve done enough of that to last me a lifetime, thanks to my parents never being around when I still lived at home.

Caleb is one of my closest friends, so it was a no brainer living with him. Diego has been my friend for years too, though we’ve gotten even closer recently. He’s never around though. He spends all of his free time with Jos and their baby.

The craziest thing is I’m now friends with guys I hated the entirety of high school. Eli Bennett was the quarterback at our rival high school, and his taunting ways on social media drove us crazy. Guy called us out constantly—and then we’d play against them and beat his ass every single time.

I think he just did it for the drama. Guy loves to flap his lips.

Wasn’t much of a fan of Jackson Rivers either, who played with Eli, though I didn’t know him that well. Turns out they’re both actually pretty cool. Even Caleb gets along with Eli, and they had a near run-in our senior year over Ava, Eli’s girlfriend. Our best friend’s little sister. That’s how we all became friends in the first place—thanks to Ava and Eli dating, and Jake reluctantly accepting him as one of us.

Might not make sense, considering it’s all twisted and a bit of a mess, but we’ve let the past remain where it belongs when it comes to Eli.

That’s why we’re currently sitting around our living room after football practice, playing Call of Duty and drinking beer while waiting for our pizza order to show up. Hanging out like we usually do. Talking a bunch of shit to each other.

Again, as we usually do.

Jackson snaps his fingers in front of my face, reminding me he asked me a question.

“Repeat yourself,” I tell him, loving how easy it is to play video games and get lost in my thoughts all at the same time. And women say men can’t multitask.