After (After 1)

“What’s so funny?”

I turn around and find Hardin entering the kitchen, a trash bag in his hand. He sweeps his arm over the countertop, making the cups fall into the trash bag.

“Nothing,” I lie. “Does Nate live here, too?”

He ignores me and continues to clean.

“Does he?” I ask again, more impatient this time. “The sooner you tell me if Nate lives here, the sooner I can leave.”

“Okay, now you have my attention. But, no, he doesn’t live here. Does he seem like a frat boy to you?” He smirks.

“No, but neither do you,” I snap and his jaw tenses.

He moves around me and opens the cabinet next to my hip, pulling out a roll of paper towels.

“Is there a bus that runs close to here?” I ask, not expecting an answer.

“Yep, about a block away.”

I follow him around the kitchen. “Could you tell me where it is?”

“Sure. It’s about a block away.” The corners of his mouth lift, taunting me.

I roll my eyes and walk out of the kitchen. Hardin’s momentary civility last night was obviously a onetime thing and today he’ll be coming at me full force. After the night I had, I can’t stand to be around him.

I go wake up Steph, who wakes up surprisingly easily and smiles at me. I’m grateful that she’s just as ready to get out of this damned fraternity house.

“Hardin said there is a bus stop around the block,” I tell her as we walk downstairs together.

“We aren’t taking the damn bus. One of these assholes will take us back to our room. He was probably just giving you a hard time,” she says, her hand resting on my shoulder. As we enter the kitchen and find Hardin pulling some beer cans out of the oven, she’s all authority. “Hardin, you ready to take us back now? My head is pounding.”

“Yeah, sure, just give me a minute,” he says like he’s been waiting for us all along.

DURING THE DRIVE BACK to the dorms Steph sings along to whatever metal song is playing through the speakers and Hardin rolls all the windows down, despite my polite requests to roll them up. Silent the whole way, he mindlessly drums his long fingers on the steering wheel. Not that I was paying attention.

“I’ll come by later, Steph,” he tells her as she climbs out of the passenger seat. She nods and waves as I open my door.

“Bye, Theresa,” he says with a smirk. I roll my eyes and follow Steph into the dorm.

Chapter thirteen

The rest of the weekend goes quickly and I manage to avoid seeing Hardin. When I head out early Sunday to go shopping, I leave before he can come to the room, and I return after he’s apparently left.

The new clothes I get fill up my small dresser, but as I put them away Hardin’s obnoxious voice plays in my head: You know we are going to a party, not church.

I suspect he’d say the same about these new outfits, but I’ve decided that I am no longer going to be going to parties with Steph, or anywhere that Hardin may be. He isn’t good company and bickering with him is exhausting.

Finally it’s Monday morning, my first day of college classes, and I couldn’t be more prepared. I wake up extra early to make sure I can take a shower—without boys around—and not be rushed. My white button-up shirt and tan pleated skirt are perfectly ironed and ready to be put on. I get dressed, pin my hair, and put my bag over my shoulder. I’m about to leave—about fifteen minutes early, to ensure that I won’t be late—when Steph’s alarm goes off. She hits the snooze button, but I wonder if I should I wake her. Her classes may start later than mine, or maybe she isn’t planning on going. The idea of missing the first day of classes stresses me out, but she is a sophomore, so maybe she has it under control.

With one last glance in the mirror, I head to my first class. Studying the campus map proves to have been a good idea, and I find my first building within twenty minutes. When I walk into my freshman history class the room is empty, save one person.

Since this person obviously cares about being on time, too, I sit next to him. He could be my first new friend. “Where is everyone?” I ask, and he smiles. His smile alone puts me at ease.

“Probably running across campus to barely make it here on time,” he jokes, and I instantly like him. That’s exactly what I was thinking.

“I’m Tessa Young,” I say and give him a friendly smile.

“Landon Gibson,” he says with an equally adorable smile as the first one. We spend the rest of the time before class talking. I find out that he’s an English major, like me, and he has a girlfriend named Dakota. Landon doesn’t mock me or miss a beat in our easy conversation when I tell him that Noah is a grade below me. I decide now that he is someone whom I would like to see more of. As the class begins to fill, Landon and I make a point to introduce ourselves to the professor.

Afterward, as the day continues, I begin to regret taking five classes instead of four. I rush to my British Literature elective—thanking God it’s the last class of the day—and barely make it on time. I am relieved when I see Landon sitting in the front row, the seat next to him empty.

“Hey again,” he says with a smile as I sit down.

The professor begins the class, handing out the syllabus for the semester and giving a brief introduction about himself, what led to him to become a professor, and his excitement for the topic. I love that college is different from high school and the professors don’t make you stand in front of the class and introduce yourself or do any other embarrassing and unnecessary things.