Fall Into Forever (8 page)

“No problem. I’m just using some of my Christmas money anyway, so it’s no big deal.” Before I can say anything else, she stabs the Buy button with a manicured fingernail. “Done.” Then she rubs her hands together gleefully, like a villain planning an evil plot. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

While Cassidy showers, I grab the book I need to start reading for Comparative Lit.
The Butterfly Lovers
is the Chinese version of
Romeo and Juliet
, written centuries ago. The textbook contains several versions of the story and we need to read all of them. Even though the paper isn’t due for a while and the stories are short, I want to get a jump start. By the time Cassidy returns, I’ve read two of them.

She changes into skinny jeans and flats and arranges a knit scarf around her neck.

“Is that new?” I ask, looking up from my book. “It’s really cute.”

“Thanks. Ryan made it for me for Christmas.”

“Your brother? He
made
that? Let me see.” She comes over and I examine the baby-blue scarf more closely. All the rows are even, the stitches uniform. Although it’s simple, it’s very well made. Makes me want to pull out my latest knitting project—or at least log in to Ravelry. It’s the only social network I didn’t quit. Figured Aaron and his stalkerish ways wouldn’t think to look for me in the knitting and crocheting community.

“Yep,” she says, continuing to mess with how it’s positioned. “A bunch of guys in high school first started crocheting really crazy ski caps in wild colors for themselves. Other kids wanted them, too, so they took orders and sold them. Now they make scarves and beanies, too.”

“That’s really cool your
brother
and his friends do that. Does anyone tease them?”

“Tease him? Ha. No one teases Ryan. No one would dare pitch him shit about anything.”

I can see that. The guy’s totally buff.

She eyes the canvas bag next to my bed where I keep my knitting stuff. My grandmother taught me how to knit when I was little. Although I’m not very good at it, it helps me to think I’m recapturing the person I used to be before my life fell apart.

“Next time he comes to visit, you guys could go yarn shopping together.”

I smile at the thought of a big, burly guy like Ryan in a yarn shop.

We grab our backpacks and leave the room. As I lock up, Cassidy removes the dry-erase marker from the whiteboard on our door.

“What time will you be back?” she asks.

I have to think about it for a moment. I don’t have this quarter’s schedule memorized yet. “Not till three or four.”

“I’ll be home earlier.”
Back by two
, she writes on the board.

We head down the hall, waving to a few people on our floor who have their doors open. Soon we’re outside and heading to the Commons. Cassidy dodges a puddle on the sidewalk. It rained earlier this morning and everything is still wet, reminding me that I should’ve put my running shoes next to the heater under the window to dry them out. I make a mental note to do that when I get back.

We enter the dining hall, then end up standing in line at the salad bar for a few minutes as we wait for a replacement batch of fresh lettuce.

“Have you heard from your mom?” Cassidy asks.

“Not yet.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other.

“Maybe it wasn’t—you know—
his
brother at the party.”

I cringe. She promised she wouldn’t mention it again. “One can hope, right?”

The fresh lettuce arrives and we make our salads. I pile on lots of feta cheese, cherry tomatoes, Kalamata olives, and pepperoncini. Cassidy, on the other hand, goes for the soy cheese, mushrooms, and garbanzo beans. Taking our trays, we spot a table with a few people from our floor. Sara and another girl I don’t know are there, too.

The memory of how she talked to me the other night—like I was an idiot—is still fresh in my mind. One of my goals when I moved here was to stay away from toxic people. Right now, she tops that list. And even though I feel strange admitting this, the way she shamelessly fawned all over Jon kind of pisses me off.

Erik, Austin, and Brina are huddled over a textbook, so I’m guessing they’re heading somewhere to study when they’re done with lunch. Marla is texting. Sara’s friend is in workout clothes, so she’s probably going to the rec center. I’ve heard they’ve got some good classes, but I wouldn’t know because I like running outside. Sara, on the other hand, is looking all Taylor Swift with her wavy blond hair, floral print dress, jean jacket, and cowboy boots. Who knows what her plans are.

Before we get there, Cassidy whispers, “Can I mention we’re going out on Friday night to celebrate your birthday?”

I scan the people sitting at the table. “Yeah, I guess that’s okay. I doubt they’re all twenty-one anyway.”

We grab our seats and sit down.

“I didn’t know you knew him,” Sara is saying to Marla. She stirs her yogurt and takes a bite.

Marla’s light brown hair is piled into a messy knot at the top of her head, complete with a pencil sticking out of the middle like a single chopstick. “So when I say he’s trouble, I’m not just blowing smoke out my ass.”

“Who are you guys talking about?” Cassidy tears off a corner of her napkin and spits out her gum.

With an exasperated look on her face, Marla shakes her head. “Oh, Sara met this guy and—”

“Ivy,” Sara says, whipping her head around to face me.

Marla jerks sideways to avoid being hit by Sara’s hair, but she bumps into Brina, knocking her arm, and Brina’s fork clatters to her tray.

Keeping my face composed, which is pretty damn hard, I look at Sara. “Yes?”

Sara continues, oblivious to what’s going on around her. “You remember the guy that me, you, and Cassidy met?”

I take a bite of salad. “Mmmm-hmmm.” How could I forget? I can still see those dangerously blue eyes staring into mine. I may even have pressed my nose to his coat a few times this weekend and taken a few big whiffs. I’m not saying I did…just that it’s possible. You know, the migraine and all.

“I went to the tutoring center yesterday and guess who I ran into?” She’s playing with her hair, pulling it forward, creating a mass of blond curls on one side. If she keeps petting herself like that, she’s going to shed hair into her yogurt.

Let me take a wild guess. “Jon?”

“Yes! And he totally recognized me. I mean, we just met and everything. Can you believe it?”

Met? Yeah, they said maybe two words to each other.

“I figured he was there to get help like I was, so I asked him what subject he was being tutored in, and get this.” She reaches over and grabs my tray for emphasis, almost knocking over my water. “He’s actually a chemistry tutor.”

Chemistry? That does surprise me. I figured he’d be into communications or marketing or something, given that he works at the radio station.

Sara continues talking like a concrete truck rolling down a hill. With no brakes. “I’m like, no way. That’s totally why I’m here. I can’t believe you’re a chemistry tutor. Is this fate, or what? He laughed, of course, and agreed with me. So I signed up on his schedule and had a private session with him this morning.” That explains the outfit. “God, he was sooo helpful. And sooo hot.” I am strongly disliking—okay—hating the way she says
sooo
. “I wonder if he’ll mention me on his show tomorrow night.”

“Mention you?”

“If you listened to his show, Ivy, you’d know he sometimes makes little comments about what he’s done that week. Parties, events going on, people. That sort of thing.”

Cassidy catches my eye. She does this subtle little flounce and discreetly flings her hair back. I can almost hear Cassidy say in her radio announcer’s voice,
I’m tutoring this girl who has this amazing hair. I can’t wait to tutor her again
. I try not to laugh, so I stab at my salad instead. A cherry tomato rolls off the plate and onto the floor.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Sara’s friend says. “Last time I listened, he was talking about some zombie run through campus. Are any of you guys doing it?”

“A zombie run?” I look up from my plate. “What is that?”

“It’s a 10K obstacle race where you’re running from zombies. If you cross the finish line and still have one flag, you’re human. If not, you’re one of the infected. It benefits some charity.”

“Ooh, it sounds fun,” I reply.

“I’m Dani, by the way.” She gives a little wave of her hand.

“I’m Ivy. Nice to meet you. Is that short for Danielle?”

“No. Um…” She clears her throat and looks around sheepishly. “It’s short for Daenerys. From
Game of Thrones
. My mom read the first book when she was pregnant with me. My brother’s middle name is Harry and my little sister is Isabella.”

“
Harry Potter
and
Twilight?
” Austin takes a bite of his cheeseburger.

She nods. “Kind of stupid, I know.”

I successfully spear another tomato on my plate. “Stupid? I think it’s cool to be named after characters in a book. I once knew a family whose kids were all named after the cities where they were conceived. Dallas, Aspen, Carmel, Sedona. So consider yourself lucky.”

“Oh my God, that is so sick,” Cassidy says, laughing. “Who wants to know where your parents did it when your mom got knocked up? Jesus H.” She kisses her cross pendant.

“Yeah, who wants to even imagine your parents doing it at all?” Marla says. “I sure as hell don’t.”

Dani takes a sip from her pop. “I’d be Ballard,” she says, totally straight-faced.

Austin and Erik start laughing.

“What would your name be?” she asks. I can’t tell where she’s directing the question.

Austin shrugs. “Seattle. I think.” Erik doesn’t answer.

I look around the table. “I’d be Hollywood. Florida, that is. Not California. Top that.”

Cassidy snorts. “I’d be Polly. Short for Kaanapali. I was born in Hawaii.” She elbows me. “Polly and Holly.”

“Will you guys stop?” Marla holds up a hand. “This is disgusting.”

Cassidy points a finger at everyone at the table. “Listen. No one better get pregnant while they’re going to school here. Because I’d seriously die if one of you named a kid College View.”

Everyone laughs.

“Speaking of conceptions and birthdays,” Cassidy says, a big smile on her face. “Ivy’s birthday is on Friday. She turns twenty-one, so we’re going to the Hardware Store Pub to celebrate. You guys should come.”

“Happy birthday,” a few of them say.

“Sweet,” Dani says. “I’ve got a fake ID, but it’s not very good. Do they check?”

Austin starts to answer, but Sara interrupts him.

“Hey, guys.” The whole table looks over at her. That’s when I realize she hasn’t told us her city name yet. I wonder if it’s funny or lame. “Do you know if Jon’s running in it? I’m not a runner, but I can be.”

We all stare at her as if she’s just unzipped her clothes to reveal an alien underneath.

Has she not been listening to the conversation? Dani glances over at me, eyes wide, biting her lip. She’s trying not to laugh.

Cassidy does nothing to hide her irritation. “Running? What are you talking about?”

“The zombie race,” Sara answers. “Is he running in it, do you know?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Cassidy kisses her necklace.

“Just don’t get any ideas about him, okay?” Marla scowls at Sara. When Sara doesn’t respond, she adds, “I’m serious.”

“Ideas?” Sara flips her hair again. “I have lots of ideas that involve him.”

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” I’m almost positive I walked in on him having sex at the party. And the fight I witnessed had something to do with a girl named Stella.

“Try fuck-buddy,” Marla says. “The guy’s a total player. Slept with the slutty chicks in high school and now he’s working his way through the sororities.”

“Sounds like you,” Erik says to Austin.

Austin gives him the finger and takes a bite from his second cheeseburger.

Marla ignores them. “But that’s not all. He’s been in a lot of trouble. Got arrested a few years ago and kicked out of high school for doing some seriously bad shit.”

“Trouble?” Sara asks.

“Yeah. Stealing. Selling weed. Got arrested and went to juvie.”

My curiosity gets the better of me. “And you know this how?”

Marla repositions the pencil sticking out of her bun. “My friend’s cousin knows him.”

“I’m surprised he got into PSU if he’s got a record,” Cassidy says skeptically.

“Maybe his parents are rich and got him off,” Dani says.

Sara is smiling. She’s liking that explanation. Wealthy parents, hot guy, potential trust fund.

“I doubt it,” Marla says. “I don’t care that he’s on the radio now and is really popular. He’s bad news, Sara, and you should stay away from him.”

I don’t know Marla well enough to know if she’s the kind of person who embellishes stories or not. “Maybe he pulled his shit together.”

“Whatevs, Ivy. You go ahead and think that, but the guy’s trouble.” Marla takes a bite of her quesadilla. “Plain and simple.”