Sweet Home (Sweet Home 1)

“Mmm… meatloaf. I lurrrvvveee me some meatloaf!” Cass caught my attention as she dug into her lunch with utmost vigour and Ally and Lexi were talking about the club we were apparently hitting on Saturday night.

“You’re in, Molls, yeah?” Ally asked as I took my sandwich from my bag.

“Sure,” I replied. I’d never been clubbing before so, no doubt, it would be an interesting experience.

Cass was officially “going steady” with the loveable Jimmy-Don and he was taking her dancing after the game—the three of us tagging along and making a night of it.

Conversation moved on to appropriate outfit choices and hairstyles, and I took the opportunity to cast another covert glance at Rome, who it seemed had been staring at me for a while. He acknowledged me with a subtle tilt of the chin. I gripped my seat to stop myself from striding towards him and asking if he was okay.

Word had spread about his official disassociation with Shelly, and even more girls than usual were making their play for the all-star QB, and my inner tether was straining with every bat of a lash or flick of an over-processed ponytail. Ally seemed to have picked up on my frustration and frowned, glancing between Rome and me while she nibbled on her carrot sticks. I decided to just avoid her scrutiny.

Rome fended off the horde of girls with a shake of his head or an uninterested wave. It made me deliriously happy, but the questionable glances from his teammates at his reproof of the bevy of beautiful girls vying for his attention made me realise that we wouldn’t be able to keep our relationship quiet for long. I didn’t think his patience or my calm would last anyhow.

After about fifteen minutes, Shelly entered the cafeteria with her trademark loud, annoying laugh. Catching sight of me, she stormed over and glared at me with pure hatred distorting her plastic face.

The room fell silent.

“God, Molly! If I have to see you walking around with these friggin’ taped-up glasses on one more day, I’m gonna scream! Don’t you own another pair?” She reached forward and before I knew what had happened, she ripped the glasses from my face and threw them behind her onto the floor, the loud clatter thunderous in the quiet hall.

I stood to confront her, but as I started to rise, she pushed on my shoulder, causing me to smack back down. “Sit your ass down when I’m talkin’ to you!” She leaned in, a fraction from my face. “What’s wrong? Momma and Daddy got no money, sweetie? You poor, Molly?”

Despite my best efforts, each of her words lashed me with a paralysing whip of poison, her venom hitting every intended target with perfection. I wanted to fight back, wanted to hold my own, but her words crippled me, exposed every fear I felt.

“Enough!” An angry roar echoed throughout the room. “Back the hell off her. What are you, twenty-one or twelve?” Heavy footsteps drew closer and a hand touched my shoulder and slipped my glasses back onto my face. I tipped my head up and Rome was stood behind me, fuming at Shelly, who paled to a deathly shade of white as she registered that his hands were touching my body.

“Get your hands off her!” She seethed.

Rome fixed her with a taunting grin. “Get it through your head. We’re not together, never will be. Time to cut the shit.” He fixed his attention to the entire student body, arms spread wide. “Despite what shit she may be spewin’, know that I am not with her, never have been, and anything she says is utter bullshit!”

Lexi and Cass were staring at me with their mouths dropped in shock, darting their eyes from me to Rome to Shelly and back again. Ally had her arms crossed and satisfied amusement shone from her every pore.

Romeo bent his head and whispered in a tight voice, “You okay?”

I nodded but kept my head dropped low in embarrassment. He grasped my hand, pulling me from my chair, the action causing our fellow students to murmur and gossip in question at his strange behaviour towards the quiet Brit.

“Get your purse, Shakespeare. We’re leavin’.”

I reached for my tasselled brown bag and tried to keep up with his pace as he stormed out of the doors, the force causing them to crash against the wall, leaving a shell-shocked Shelly stood alone in rage.

We pounded along the pavement of the quad; I was almost running to keep up. “Romeo, slow down. Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my breathing in check.

We stopped at a huge new black Dodge truck and he pulled the passenger side open.

“Get in,” he ordered aggressively.

I jumped on the seat and he slammed the door shut. Romeo climbed into the driver’s side and switched on the engine. Hard metal music came pumping through the speakers and he spun his wheels as we shot out of the car park. I didn’t know what to say—I’d never seen anyone so livid.

After two songs featuring an awful lot of drums and gravelly screaming, Rome began to relax his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “Sure you’re okay?” he asked in a strained voice.

“Yes. A little embarrassed, but I’m fine.”

“How dare she speak to you like that? She’s such a bitch! Why the hell did I waste so much of my f**kin’ time on her?!” he spat out as he hit his fist on the dashboard.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

His lip curled into a reluctantly amused smirk.

We weaved in and out of streets, and I laid my head against the window as the city passed by in a blur and I tried to numb my memory of Shelly’s viciously accurate words.

We pulled to a stop outside University Mall. I lifted my head off the window and when I turned towards Romeo, he was leaning against his hand watching me. “Mol, I’m so sorry for what she said to you about your parents. I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt.” His brown eyes were pained.

I reached across and placed my hand on his knee. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

He covered my hand with his. “Not true. She’s rippin’ on you because she sees my interest. Saw it from our very first kiss. You’re the enemy now, Mol, and I can’t say sorry enough for that. I put you in this position and she’s gonna try and make your life hell.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his concerned words, and I shifted closer along the seat to lay my head on his shoulder. He sighed and hooked his bare arm around my neck. I ran my appreciative gaze along his staple sleeveless shirt, this time in blue, his faded jeans, and brown, worn cowboy boots. He rocked that look like no one else could—true country boy.