Charade (3 page)

“Then what are you doing way over there?” I don’t move. Don’t have to.

Deena doesn’t have to be asked twice. She climbs onto my lap and her mouth comes down on mine. Screw the tequila. Screw everything else. I grab her, taking the kiss over and fighting to forget everything else.

It doesn’t work, but I find a way to pretend.

~CHAPTER THREE~

Cheyenne

I can’t believe how much it sucks to walk across campus alone. I feel like a loser, like everyone knows, even though they probably don’t.
Yet
. The school’s not that huge, so it’s bound to get around soon.

My phone buzzes. Seeing its Gregory for the ten millionth time, I hit ignore. Does he really think I’m going to talk to him? That after one day I’m ready to hear more of his excuses? Obviously he doesn’t know me at all.
Did I ever give him a chance to really know me?

             
I have a sudden huge craving for caffeine. Nothing makes things better like an iced, skinny caramel macchiato. I pick up my phone to call someone and realize I have no one to go get coffee with me. No one. I haven’t really had the chance to get to know many of the girls here. The ones I
do
know are the people Gregory introduced me to—girls in his sister sorority and girlfriends of his frat brothers. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let this happen to me.

             
My heart starts to beat faster. I breathe deep to try and calm it.

             
It doesn’t take long to get to the coffee house and order. I sit in the corner, trying to work through my mess of a life. Gregory’s words bounce around in my brain.
No one’s going to go after you. They know you’re mine.

             
I hate that he’s right. Need him to be wrong.

             
How the hell do I do that alone though? Ugh. I don’t want to date. Just the thought of the smiley, get-to-know-you phase makes me want to puke. And dating here at school isn’t going to be easy, considering everyone seems to be friends with Gregory, or at least know who he is.

             
Gregory
.

             
A moment of hurt sneaks its way into my heart. I don’t want to miss the idea of him. The idea wasn’t real. I don’t even know if I loved Gregory. Yeah, we said it, but did I really love him? Love, on principle, scares the hell out of me. I haven’t let myself love someone in…

“You can’t go where Mommy’s going.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as though that will quiet Mom’s voice in my brain.

I might not have loved Gregory, but I thought we would be together forever. I thought we’d be happy together. Now, I know I wasn’t the only one with secrets. At least mine didn’t consist of being with someone else.

And why does every thought in my brain have to go back to Gregory? I’m a nineteen-year-old college girl. I should be living it up. Enjoying my independence and...singleness.

I sit up straighter. I might feel like crap inside, but I’m not about to show it.

I look around. None of the guys who walk in the coffee shop are Cheyenne material. And why am I looking at guys anyway?
Because I made it look like someone’s been hitting on me. Or maybe I just want to show him, people will look at me.

             
The door opens. Oh my God. I duck down in my seat.
What are you doing, Cheyenne. Sit tall, be proud. You’re better than this.

             
Only I can’t make myself do it.

I gave him two years and he doesn’t care?

He called me half an hour ago yet here he is with Red on his arm.

Two years.

Oh God. My chest hurts. My breaths come out faster and my vision becomes blurry.

             
This can’t be happening to me.

             
I fight to slow my breathing—find something to concentrate on, keeping my eyes anywhere except on Gregory. There’s a little menu with their specials and I read it—the same thing over and over just to give myself something to focus on. The coffee shop gets kind of quiet. An eerie feeling settles over me, and I swear I hear whispers.

             
I look up, hating myself for not having more self-control. I immediately wish I hadn’t peeked.

             
I glance over again, see Gregory say something to Red, kiss her and then run outside. I’m pretty sure Gregory didn’t see me, but the fact that Red is walking over tells me she did. It’s strange, the conflicting emotions warring inside me. There’s the tough Chey. The one I’ve worked to become who wants to get up and give her hell, but the weak girl—the one who hid in rooms at the parties and cried when Mom was gone who wants to freak out.

             
“He feels sorry for you, you know?” Red crosses her arms.

             
“And I feel sorry for you, if you believe that.” I roll my eyes at her.

             
“We’ve been together since last year. I knew about you. I also know your families are friends. That Gregory took you under his wing, and now he feels some stupid sense of obligation to you. That’s all it is. I know it. He knows it and now you know it too.”

             
Her words hit all of my buttons. I feel used. I was an obligation to Mom, then to Lily and Mark, and now Gregory too? And with him, he doesn’t even know everything about me.
No!
“Did you ever think he said that to get in your pants? I mean, not that it was obviously very hard for him to get there.”

             
Her face turns as red as her hair. “Screw you. I feel sorry for you, thinking all this time he really still wanted to be with you. I know what it really is. He wants me. Now you can live with that. If you’ll excuse me, my boyfriend should be back any second. He just went to get something out of the car.”

             
She turns and walks away. I push to get up and find a way to defend myself, but Gregory’s voice breaks through. He’s standing by the door, obviously having walked back in.

             
“Watch where you’re going!” Gregory says.

             
Gregory’s standing straight, trying to make himself look tall and Red steps up to his side. Another guy stands in front of him. He has dark blond, clouds-over-sunset colored hair. It’s messy, like he hasn’t combed it all day and he’s a good four inches taller than Gregory. His pants are wrinkled and there’s a hole in the knee. I can tell it’s from wear and not jeans that you buy to look like that.

             
A black t-shirt stretches across his chest and all the way down his right arm are tattoos. Like, so many of them I can’t even see his skin.

             
Tattoo Guy laughs. I see the tightness in Gregory’s face. I wonder if Red knows it. If she knows him well enough to read what his look is saying. He’s pissed that this guy would laugh at him, and embarrassed, too.

             
Tattoo
G
uy turns away, shaking his head, but Gregory grabs his arm. He doesn’t like to be made a fool of and I’m sure he needs to show off for his new girl. Not smart. I’ve never known Gregory to get in a fight and this guy looks like he does it often.

             
“I’m thinking you want to let go of my arm now, Pretty Boy.” Tattoo Guy doesn’t jerk his arm back, though I’m sure he could. He just stares at Gregory. My boyfriend—no ex-boyfriend returns the stare for a few seconds. Something is passing between them, and I want to know what it is.

             
“Whatever.” Gregory’s hand slips off
T
attoo
G
uy’s arm. “Come on, Maxine. Let’s go.”

             
Maxine. Ugh. I hate that name. Hate that girl, who thinks she’s so much better than me. That she has something I don’t…

And Gregory… I can’t believe the things he said to her about me.

As soon as they walk out the door I look at Tattoo Guy again. There’s obviously some serious hate going on between the two.  Red’s claims hit me again. He feels
sorry
for me? Misplaced
obligation
? Screw him! This guy would be the perfect way to get back at Gregory.

A weird, desperate feeling overcomes me. It’s so strong that it makes me feel reckless.

I’m not proud to admit this, but after Tattoo Guy gets his coffee and leaves, I throw my purse over my shoulder, grab my caramel macchiato and then I’m out the door behind him. He has long legs and mine are short so I have to jog to catch up. Not that I know what I’m going to say when I get there, but that’s beside the point.

             
“Hey!” Gah. What’s his name? “You. Hey you with the tattoos.”

             
He stops and turns, then waits as I catch up with him. “Hi…um…hi.” I stumble. The first thing I notice is he’s pretty, too, but in a totally different way than Gregory. He has great lips, straight teeth. His eyes are incredible. Bright blue, somehow darker toward the center and get lighter on the outside. Definitely pretty, but with an edge to him that Gregory doesn’t have.

             
Pull it together, Chey.

             
“Hi. I’m Cheyenne.” I hold out my hand to him. At first I think he’s going to walk away and ignore me, but then he shifts and grabs my hand.

             
“Colt.”

             
“
Colt?
”

             
“Are you really approaching me to talk shit about my name, Princess?” His voice is slightly softer than when he spoke to Gregory, but not much.

             
“You’re right. I just…”
Have no idea what to say
. But then I think of how Gregory looked with Maxine. The heated anger that passed between him and Colt. The way I felt when I walked in on Gregory with
her.

             
“So...that guy in there?” I say. “The one who was sort of a jerk to you?”

             
“Frat boy, dickhead? What about him? Friend of yours?” He smirks.

             
My recklessness fades, leaving the panic that I hate. It pisses me off. I’m not supposed to lose the strength. The new Cheyenne is all strength.

             
“You know what? Never mind.” Turning, I take a few steps away from him.

             
“Suit yourself,” he says behind me. I don’t know why, but his response surprises me. Isn’t he the least bit curious what I was going to say?

             
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt. This stops him.

             
Colt turns and looks at me, one of his eyebrows cocked. “Are you hitting on me, Princess? No thanks. I’m not the kind of guy you can piss off your parents with by slumming.”

             
And just that simple, he starts to walk away. I’m still trying to figure out what just happened. This guy didn’t even give me a chance to explain. That’s not the part that pisses me off though. I run to catch up. “You don’t know me, so don’t pretend you do. I don’t have parents to piss off. And, I wasn’t hitting on you.”

             
I expect him to ask about the parent comment. I’m a little surprised I even said it, but he doesn’t. Amusement bounces off his words when he says, “You weren’t hitting on me, but you followed me out of the coffee shop and now want to know if I have a girl? I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”

             
His words and our fast pace make me stumble. He reaches out his hand and catches me. It’s warm and calloused and I jerk my arm away. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it. Not that I
was
flirting with you, but still.”

             
“Listen, if there’s a point, you need to get to it. I have somewhere I need to be.”

             
It takes a minute for me to reply. I consider walking away, but I can’t get Maxine and Gregory out of my head. The way he threw me away. I swore I’d never be thrown away again.

             
People always fall at Gregory’s feet. I loved that about him. This guy? He didn’t. That’s what I need.

             
My head high, I tell him, “You never answered the question.”

             
He groans as though he’s about done with me, but then he answers. “No, Princess. I don’t have a girl. I’m not looking for one either.”

             
The princess thing is about to piss me off, but I let it go. “Good. I’m not either.” He grins and I realize what I’ve said. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend! You know what I mean.” Do lesbian jokes ever get old to men?

             
“Tick tock.”

             
“I have a question for you and
its
very private…Colt. It wouldn’t be good for this to get out.”