The Game That Breaks Us (2 page)

I get all my clothes unpacked and stuff my suitcase and duffle bag under the bed.

“I’m going shopping,” I tell Elle, grabbing up my purse.

She glares at me over the top of her magazine. I don’t think she’s even reading it, just using it as a shield. “Of
course
you are,” she says.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I need to get a few things for the room. Pillows and food and stuff.” I don’t know why I’m even explaining this to her. “You’re welcome to come if you want.” I smile, but it’s forced. I’m
trying
to be nice, but she’s making it damn near impossible and I haven’t even been here two hours.

“No, thanks.” She closes her magazine and lays it on the bed. “There’s a party off campus tonight.” She looks at her nails and I know she’s baiting me.

I sigh. “Okay?”

“I’d invite you, but it probably wouldn’t be your thing.” Her eyes scale me from head to toe. 

It wouldn’t take an expert to figure out my clothes are expensive, but it’s not something I necessarily flaunt. Yes, I came from a rich family but I wasn’t spoiled. My parents made sure to raise my brothers and me with an understanding for the real world. Elle is judging me based on who she
thinks
I am, not who I
really
am, and that irks me. 

“Maybe it
is
my thing,” I counter, squaring my shoulders.

There’s a challenging look in her amber eyes. “Then go.”

I clench my fingers around my purse strap so she can’t see them shake. “I told you, I’m going shopping.”

“Go tomorrow,” she challenges. “You have all weekend before classes to go shopping.”

“I …” I’m stuck and I see no way out. If I insist on going shopping, she’ll think she’s won and I’m never one to forfeit. “Fine, I’ll go.” I drop my purse back down on the bed. 

Her eyes widen in surprise and her lips part. I’ve stunned her.
Good
.

“The party’s not until tonight,” she admits reluctantly, and I had figured as much, “so you have time to do your shopping.”

I can’t contain my smile as I grab my purse. “Don’t leave without me,” I chirp, closing the door behind me. “What a bitch,” I mumble to myself out into the hall.

The hall is filled with girls; most of them shrieking in delight and excitedly talking about their summers. I envy them just slightly since it looks like I’m stuck with the devil incarnate for my roommate.

I call for a taxi as I head outside. My mom and dad wanted me to take my car to college, but I opted not to. Freedom to come and go as I liked would be nice, but this experience was all about pushing myself out of my boundaries. Riding the bus or taking a taxi was something new for me. 

I hurry down the steps of my dorm and push open the door to the outside. The sun shines brightly above the bustling campus but I know it’ll soon be going down. The campus buzzes with voices as people catch up with friends and say goodbye to family. There’s a campus coffee shop not far from my dorm that I wanted to find, but I know if I’m to make it back in time to go to the party I can’t linger. 

I look around, trying to get my bearings, but it’s impossible. As soon as I got here, I grabbed my information pack and headed straight into the dorm, not bothering to check things out. When I told the cab driver I went to Addams University he said he knew it well and he’d pick me up across from the fountain, only I don’t know where the fountain is.

I look around blindly, panic building inside me.

I wanted to be on my own but it’s only beginning to hit me how truly alone I am. 

I turn to my left, where there seems to be more activity, and head that way. A normal person would probably stop and ask for directions, but I’ve always been a doer, and I hate asking for help even when it’s necessary. 

I can’t believe how many people are on campus. I mean, I
knew
this was a big school, but knowing it and experiencing it are two different things. Besides, people only began arriving on campus yesterday and classes don’t start until Monday so it’s bound to get even more crowded.

I bumble my way around, looking every which way. I know I look like a chicken with its head cut off. 

“Are you lost?”

The voice could belong to any number of people speaking to someone around me, but somehow, instinctively, I know they’re speaking to me.

I turn toward the deep rumble, holding my breath. 

My eyes collide with hazel ones and I look up at the massive wall—
man
—in front of me. He’s tall, probably six-foot-four at least, with blondish-red hair that’s shorter on the sides and slightly longer in the front. Not too long, but long enough that I could run my fingers through it if I wanted to … which I don’t want to. A white t-shirt stretches across his muscular chest and several tattoos adorn his arms. I want to look and see what they are, but I don’t want to look like I’m checking him out so I don’t. 

“Um … I’m looking for the fountain,” I say.

He chuckles, and the sound washes over me like a summer breeze. “Which one?”

“There’s more than one?” I frown.
Well, this isn’t good.

“Three, actually.” He shrugs and his shirt rides up the smallest amount, showing off his smooth stomach. 

“Is there a main one?” I ask.

“I guess you could say the one in the center of campus is the main one.” He frowns.

“Would a taxi pick me up there?”

His brows furrow. “Uh, no. Sorry.”

I sigh heavily. “The cab driver said he’d pick me up at the fountain, I assumed there was only one, but obviously I was wrong. He’ll be gone by now anyway,” I groan. There’s no way the cabbie would’ve waited this long for me.

I turn to leave, not even bothering to thank the kind stranger.

“Wait,” he calls. I stop and turn back around, tilting my head to the side as I regard him. “Where are you headed, maybe I can take you?”

“Um, I don’t even know you.”

He winces. “Right,
stranger danger
.” He holds out his hand. “Bennett James—hockey player and Sour Patch addict.”

I take his hand, stifling a laugh. “Grace Wentworth—aspiring stylist and chocoholic.”

He lowers his hand. “Now that we thoroughly know each other, can I offer you a ride?” I eye him and he laughs. “Not
that
kind of ride. Although, maybe a different time and place.” He winks. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”

I bite my lip. “I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t know you.”

“You could get to know me on the car ride,” he reasons, grinning from ear to ear. He’s enjoying this, clearly.

I know the smart thing to do would be to turn around, go back to my dorm, and go shopping later, but for once, I don’t want to do the smart thing.

I want to be daring and adventurous and not the stick in the mud my roommate already thinks I am—and she’d be right.

I square my shoulders and say, “Okay.”

His mouth parts slightly. He didn’t really expect me to say yes. “Let’s go then.” He turns to head back from the direction he was coming from.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

“Are you sure?” I hesitate, not wanting to mess up his plans. 

“Absolutely.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket and pulls out his car keys.

I follow him around campus while he helpfully points out various buildings. We finally make it to the parking garage and he pushes a button to unlock his car.

“
That’s
your car?” I ask when the headlights on a brand new red Camaro turn on. I know enough from my car junkie older brother that this is a top-of-the-line Camaro and doesn’t run cheap. “Are you a student? Oh, God,” I gasp. “Please tell me you’re not a professor?”

I think I might die.

He laughs. “Neither.”

I eye him with apprehension. “You’re not about to drive me out to some remote location and kill me, are you?”

He laughs, keeled over in the middle like I’ve said the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”

“Trust has to be earned,” I tell him. “So earn it.”

“O-o-h.” He chuckles and opens the passenger door. “You’re something, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. My chest brushes his arm as I move around him to get in the car.

He pauses before closing the door. “Nothing bad. You’re kind of testy, aren’t you?”

“No,” I defend, “but I’m not in the habit of getting in cars with guys I don’t know.” He smirks, just the slightest lift of his lips, and dimples pop out in his cheeks. It makes him look younger than he probably is. He doesn’t say anything in response and closes the door. When he slides behind the steering wheel I ask, “So, if you’re not a student or a professor, what are you?”

He shrugs. “I’m just visiting.”

“Oh, do you have a sibling going here? Are you supposed to be with them right now? Oh, my God, I am so sorry. I can get out.” I reach for the door, but before I can open it, he reaches across from me and holds it closed.

“No sibling,” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh.” I relax into the seat and he lets go.

“You’re free to go if you want,” he assures me. “But you’re not keeping me from anyone. Promise.” When I make no move to get out of the car, he asks, “Where to?”

“Is there a Target around here? I need to get some things for my room.”

“Yeah, there’s one about twenty minutes away.” He starts the car and the engine purrs to life. “So,” he says, driving around the garage toward the exit, “let’s work on that trust thing.”

“Huh?” I tear my gaze away from the car window. 

“You said trust had to be earned, and doesn’t that go along with getting to know someone?” I nod. “So I’m trying to get to know you.”

He turns out of the parking lot and into traffic. 

“Oh.” I tuck a piece of brown hair behind my ear. 

He chuckles. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.” He flashes straight, white teeth. “So you’re obviously a freshman,” he says, “you want to be a stylist, and you like chocolate. What else should I know about you?”

“I have two brothers.”

“In other words, they’ll rough me up if I mess with you?” He glances over at me with a shit-eating grin.

I roll my eyes. “Not likely. Dean’s too into his cars and girlfriend to notice and Lincoln is only in high school. What about you? Any siblings?”

“A sister. Sabrina.”

“Older or younger?” I ask.

“Older.”

“Ah.” I smile. “So you’re the spoiled youngest child.”

He chuckles and flicks on the blinker, turning onto a main thoroughfare. “I guess you could say that. So where are you from, Grace?”

“Virginia,” I answer. “What about you?”

“Mountains,” he responds. “Nice. Born and raised right here in Massachusetts. What made you pick a school up here?”

I shrug and answer honestly. “Freedom.”

He glances at me with raised brows. “That bad, huh?”

“No,” I say quickly. “Not
bad
, just … overwhelming. My dad’s way overprotective. I know he means well, but it can be kind of stifling. I wanted the chance to figure out who I am.”

He nods. “Seems reasonable.”

“And so far, it’s landed me in a car with a stranger.”

He laughs, clearly amused. “Am I
still
a stranger to you?”

I look at the dashboard clock. “We’ve known each other approximately thirty-five minutes, so yes.”

“What will it take for me to not be a stranger anymore?”

I twist my lips in thought. “A few days?”

He nods. “I’ll take it.”

He pulls into the Target parking lot and hops out, coming around to get my door before I can blink.

“Whoa,” I say. “I guess manners aren’t completely dead.”

He shrugs with a crooked grin. “I try.” He grabs a shopping cart from one of the return areas and wheels it over to me.

“Are you shopping too?” I ask, falling into step beside him.

“No, but aren’t you going to need a cart?”

“Yes.”

“Then it gives me something to do.” He pushes it a bit faster and hops up onto it so he’s gliding along. He nears the automatic doors and I fear he’s going to crash into them. “I command you to open!” he yells, and they slide open just in time for him to roll inside. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“You’re like a big kid, aren’t you?” I laugh.

“Eh, yeah, I guess so. I don’t see the point in acting like a stuffy old fart. Might as well have some fun with life. You’re only here once.” He jumps off the cart and wheels it over to the dollar section. “Need any notepads?” he asks, picking up a handful of the kind with magnets on the back.

“No,” I say, picking up some windmill type thing and flicking the ends with my finger. 

“Too bad, you’re getting some,” he says and drops the notepads in the cart. I shake my head and move on. He pushes the cart behind me. “What are you here for? I’d say we should divide and conquer but I’m afraid of getting lost.” 

I look back at him and he winks. “I need pillows, lights, a corkboard, a rug—”

“Basically you need the whole store?” he cuts me off.

I sigh. “Yes.”

“Okay, well, the home stuff is this way.” He turns the cart down an aisle, cutting through the kid’s clothes.

“How old are you?” I ask him.

“Grace—” he clucks his tongue “—don’t you know you’re never supposed to ask anyone their age? How scandalous of you.” I eye him, and he sighs. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Stop,” I tell him, spotting a clearance end cap. I pick up a fluffy white pillow and drop it in the cart.

He eyes the pillow with distaste. “That looks like an animal.” 

I raise a brow. “Did I ask for your opinion?”

“Well, no.”

“Exactly,” I say, looking over the other clearance items. There are a few candles I’d love to grab, but they’re a fire hazard so I have to refrain. Bennett follows behind me as I turn down the pillow aisle. I pick a few more.

“Do you really need so many?” he asks. I glare at him. “Right.” He raises his hands innocently. “You don’t want my opinion. Zipping my lips.”

I move on to the rug aisle and choose a plush white rug. I should probably ask Elle if she likes it before I buy it since it’s our room, but since she’s not here and she’s too much of a bitch for me to care about her opinion, I go to put it in the cart anyway.