Hazed: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 6) Page 15

  I hold the phone out more so she can get a better look of the full outfit. “You can’t see, but my sneakers match the hat.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” After a chuckle, she narrows her eyes at the screen. “Where the hell are you?”

  “The cabin. We’re all about to go grab dinner and then hit the town for the night.”

  At that, her smile fades, and she shakes her head and drags a hand over her face. “Spring Break. God, why I did completely space on that?” She rolls her lips together and paints on another smile. “Breckenridge, right?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Lots of skiing?”

  “Too much,” I say. “I haven’t been this sore since I attempted ice hockey for Omega Chi.”

  Erin laughs, but I can hear the way the sound has changed just in the few minutes we’ve been on the phone. It’s softer now, more dejected. I finally take a good look at her, her dark blonde hair pulled up into a high ponytail, her face makeup-free but beautiful, nonetheless. She looks cozy in her sweatpants and a t-shirt hanging off her shoulder.

  “Well, I’ll let you get to it!” she says. “I hope you have a great night.”

  “Wait.”

  Erin looks to the side, tongue in cheek, and though she’s trying to hide it, I can tell she’s not okay.

  “What’s going on, Ex?”

  “Nothing,” she says on a sigh.

  “Okay. Let’s pretend like I’ve asked you that a few times and now you’re finally ready to tell me what’s wrong.”

  She smiles at that, but when her eyes meet mine, the smile fades. “I’m good. Really, I promise. I just… I was kind of needing a friend night and was going to see if you wanted to…” She waves her hand in the air. “I don’t know. Go somewhere. Do something.” When her hand falls again, she shakes her head. “But, silly me, I forgot it’s still Spring Break, so. Yeah. Anyway. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Wait, Erin, don’t hang up.”

  I sigh, resting my hand on top of my hat as I glance at the door to my room. I can already hear everyone gathering in the living room to head out, the sound of laughter and pregaming filling the air. And while I can feel that the part of me that was stressing earlier over it being my last night of Spring Break, the part reminding me to seize the day, there’s a louder, more pressing voice inside me saying not to let this girl hang up the phone.

  “Can you hold for just a sec?”

  Erin nods, and I put my phone on mute and leave it facing the ceiling long enough to jog down the hall to the balcony that overlooks the lower-level living room. I spot Skyler easy enough and wave her up the stairs.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just… I think I’m going to hang back tonight.”

  Skyler frowns. “What? Why? It’s the last night!”

  “I know, I know, I’m just…” Helplessly in love with your Big. “Hungover. And sore. I just want to chill.”

  Skyler arches a brow. “Why do I feel like you’re having a ski bunny come over and you don’t plan on leaving your room?”

  I plaster on my famous smirk and shrug in lieu of confirming or denying, which makes Skyler smile and shake her head.

  “Use protection. And have fun. I’ll cover for you.”

  “Thank you,” I say, and after a quick hug, I’m back in the room and staring at Erin’s beautiful face.

  “I’m all yours.”

  “What?!” Her eyes go wide. “Bear, no! It’s Spring Break. I’m fine, really, I’ll just—”

  “Look, I’m hungover and sore, anyway. I didn’t even want to go out,” I lie. “Besides, I’d much rather hang out with you. Even if it’s just a FaceTime date.”

  My throat goes dry at my last word, but thankfully, Erin doesn’t seem to read too much into it. She’s too busy fighting back tears on a smile.

  “You really don’t mind?”

  “I want to talk to you. I want to be here.”

  Erin sinks farther into the couch, and it’s then that I see the glass of red wine in her hand. “You’re too good for me, Bear. Too good for this world.”

  “Tell that to my ex-girlfriends.”

  That earns me my first real, head-thrown-back signature Erin laugh, all light and bubbly and sweet like champagne.

  I make it my goal to tally up at least ten of those bad boys by the night’s end.

  Three hours later, I’ve got my phone plugged in and propped up on a mountain of luggage while I kick back against the bed frame, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at my side. Erin has already finished a bottle of red and opened a second, and both of us have got to have eight packs by now from the insane amount of laughter we’ve been doing.

  So far, we’ve played five rounds of never have I ever, a couple rounds of charades, watched an episode of Drunk History together and Erin has given me a tour of her keepsakes box she keeps in her closet with old photos of her and other childhood memorabilia.

  My favorite was a photo of her in eighth grade with braces and pigtails and overalls — the quintessential, adorable nerd.

  “God, Bear,” Erin says, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes after our latest fit of laughter. “I can’t tell you how much I needed this.”

  “Well, I’m glad I could help,” I reply. I take a sip of my whiskey, aiming for nonchalance when I ask, “You ever going to tell me what’s going on that has you in your feels, or is that to remain a mystery?”

  She sighs. “A half a bottle ago, I would have said let’s change the subject. But…” She wiggles her almost-empty glass with a smile.

  “Is it school?”

  “Somewhat. I mean, I knew law school wouldn’t be easy, but I guess I did wrongly assume that I was smarter than nearly everyone else.” She smiles with the joke. “I spend so much time on campus, and when I’m not there, I’m studying. And speaking of studying, the people in my study group kind of suck,” she adds with a laugh, but her eyes are sad.

  “Why did the words study group just make you almost cry?”

  She shakes her head. “You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

  “I promise, that’s not possible.”

  Another sigh. “I just… Gavin and I haven’t seen each other much since… since… the whole…”

  “Valentine’s Day thing?” I finish for her.

  She nods. “And we were supposed to have a date night last week, but he bailed for a study group thing. Which I totally understand. He’s graduating with his master’s degree in a couple months, and I know he’s worked hard for this. But honestly? I’m worried about him.”

  I tilt my head, biting back the curse words I want to throw out for that idiot blowing her off for a fucking study group. “Why’s that?”

  “He hasn’t been coming to therapy, not for about a month now. He says he’s gotten what he needed out of it, that he needs to focus on school. And he has a part-time job helping out in the admissions office, too. And I get it, I do, but… I just don’t know that he’s cured or whatever. I don’t think any of us really are. You know? And I just hate to see him pull away from therapy.” She swallows, eyes on her glass. “Away from me.”

  “He feels distant?”

  She snorts a laugh. “Very much so.”

  I inhale a deep breath, let it go, do it all again once more for good measure while I sort through my thoughts and what I want to say. That little voice inside me is screaming now for me to tell her he’s an idiot and not good enough for her and that she should tell him not to let the doorknob hit him on the way out of her fucking life forever.

  But, thankfully, even in my tipsiness, I know that’s not the best move.

  As much as it sours my gut, she cares about this guy. And this is the first guy she’s allowed herself to care about since that horrendous night happened to her.

  “I understand that school is important. I mean, I’m in my last semester, too, and you just graduated. We get that pressure.”

  Erin nods.

  “But that being said,
I can always find time for people who are important to me.” I wave a hand at the phone. “Case in point, tonight. And I know that even though you’re up to your neck in schoolwork, you still find time for the girls when they need you, and if Gavin called you right now and said to come over, you would be in your car in the next five minutes.”

  “Seven,” she corrects. “I’d have to brush my teeth.”

  I smirk, taking a moment to think about my next words carefully. “What I’m saying is, maybe you should just remind him that if you’re important to him, he needs to show it. And Erin, I hate to say it, but no one can read your mind. Least of all a man.”

  She laughs.

  “I mean it. I think you’re one of those girls who says yes to everything, helps everyone, while silently wishing that someone would see you and ask you what you need, too.”

  Her eyes well up at that, and she rolls her lips together. “I do. I really do.”

  “Well, sometimes you’ve just got to tell people what you need. Especially if he’s got so much going on, he probably doesn’t even know he’s upsetting you. He just thinks you’re cool with him bailing and rescheduling and not giving you his time.” I shrug. “Tell him you need him. Tell him you want him at therapy and then you want him to take you out and spend the night with you.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It is. Do you want me to make you some cue cards?”

  She chuckles. “If you were here, I’d glob you with a pillow.”

  I grab the one behind me and knock myself over the head, which makes her burst out into a full-belly laugh.

  Number thirteen for the night, if my numbers are right.

  “Ugh, okay. I’ll just… tell him that I need to see him.”

  “Good girl.”

  She bites her lip. “What if he still bails, or makes an excuse?”

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  She nods, her eyes sad again as she sips the last of her wine.

  “Hey, look at me.” I wait until she does, and then I smile, hoping she can feel my sincerity when I say, “No matter what, you always have me.”

  Her warm brown eyes are still glossy under her thick lashes, but she smiles a little. “Promise?”

  My heart thumps loud in my chest, so desperate to reach for her, hold her, touch her…

  Kiss her.

  I swallow, trying to assure myself that everything will be okay even though I can’t be sure. All I do know is that as long as Erin wants me around, as long as she lets me be here for her, I’ll be here.

  Waiting.

  Wanting.

  Wishing.

  I force a smile and hold my hand to the sky before covering my heart. “Swear.”

  THE AIRPORT SCENE AFTER Spring Break is nothing short of tragic.

  All around Denver International, you can see college students from around the nation dragging their asses to their gates with all the grace of a hungover zombie. There are kids slouched in chairs with hoodies pulled up over their faces, girls sprawled out in chairs with their head in their friends’ lap, mascara-stained cheeks and red eyes on some, and I just got lucky victorious smiles on others.

  The whole place reeks of sweat and tequila.

  And yet, there’s a bit of jubilance hanging around.

  It’s that feeling of knowing you just locked in some of the best memories of your life, ones you’ll pull out in conversation with future friends and maybe even kids one day. It’s that realization that you’re still young and wild and free, and that even if only for a little while longer, you don’t have to adult.

  As for me, I’m sitting next to Skyler and a pile of bags belonging to the crew that was in our cabin, waiting for our plane to Miami to board. The rest of the gang went their separate ways for food or snacks or bathroom breaks while we stayed back.

  Skyler is studying for an entrepreneurship exam she has when we get back, while I people-watch and absentmindedly smooth my fingers over the new silver letters hanging from my neck.

  With a goofy smile on my face, of course.

  Spring Break was nothing short of epic. And as weird as it seems, it doesn’t bother me that it’s my last one. Part of me longs for college forever, sure, but ever since Adam lavaliered me, my mind has been spinning with thoughts and wishes for the future.

  I can see us moving in together after graduation, making a little house a home of our own.

  I can see us grocery shopping together, having “our shows,” and traveling the world.

  I can see him at the end of the aisle, me dressed in white.

  I can see him holding a bouncing baby boy…

  Or girl.

  “Ugh,” Skyler huffs, slamming her laptop shut and scrubbing her hands over her face. “I’m going to vomit.”

  I chuckle. “From studying or from all those vodka shots last night?”

  Skyler fights back a gag, covering her mouth with a fist as she looks at me. “Don’t say that word.”

  “Vodka? Or shots?”

  She flicks my arm as she stands, abandoning her laptop in her chair. “I’m going to grab some club soda and a few snacks for the flight. You want anything?”

  I shake my head. “Adam’s getting us stuff. But can I use your laptop? I want to check my email.”

  “Of course,” she says with a wave, and then she’s gone.

  I pull her laptop into my lap and type in my mail host in the search bar. When it loads, I sign in and filter through all the unread messages from the past week.

  My heart stops when I see one from Johns Hopkins.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper to myself, and I stare at the vague subject line for the longest time before I finally click inside the email.

  Dear Ms. McBee,

  Congratulations. It is with great pleasure that I write to inform you of your admission into the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. Following this email, you can expect a full admissions packet to be delivered to the mailing address provided in your application. You have until April 30th to confirm your intention to attend and narrow your field of study. We understand your interest in…

  The rest of the email goes fuzzy, as well as my brain as I scan the words over and over.

  I got in.

  I got in.

  I. Got. In!

  Even seeing the words in black and white, I don’t believe it. I mean, I applied even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to start until the spring term of next year, since I’ll be graduating in the fall with Skyler. I expected them to write me with feedback and encourage me to apply for the following scholastic year.

  I never expected an acceptance.

  Especially not from my first school of choice.

  My heart races faster as I focus on the email again, reading that they have read my request to start in the spring and have flexibility in their programs to accommodate the request. There’s also links for housing, orientation, and more at the bottom.

  “Alright, I got all the goods,” Adam says, dropping two plastic sacks into the chair next to me. “We got Pringles, trail mix, Ore-oh shit!”

  I don’t warn him before I slide Skyler’s laptop to the side and jump straight into his arms, but he catches me, nonetheless, laughing as I kiss all over his neck.

  “I missed you, too, for the whole fifteen minutes I was gone, but maybe we should tone down the PDA a little.”

  “I got in!”

  He freezes at that, and when he drops me back to my feet, I’m nodding so furiously with a smile so big I’m afraid I’ll split my face.

  “To Johns Hopkins medical school. I GOT IN!”

  I jump into his arms again, and he catches me with a spin, though he seems more confused than anything at first. It’s like it hits him slowly, and then he’s kissing me and squeezing me and twirling me around.

  “Baby! You got in!”

  “I got in!”

  We both laugh as he frames my face and kisses my nose, my cheeks, and finally my lips. When he pulls back, he shake
s his head in disbelief.

  “I had no doubts, but wow, this is amazing!”

  “I think I’m in shock.”

  He chuckles, and then his smile slips, and he brushes my hair out of my face.

  “What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” he assures me. “I just… I have news, too.”

  I arch a brow.

  “I got the job.”

  “The job…” My eyes go wide when I realize what he means. “The Field Executive position? With Alpha Sigma?”

  “The very one.”

  “ADAM!” I launch into his arms again, nearly crying with joy. “Oh, my God, why didn’t you tell me?!”

  “I just found out on the night I lavaliered you. I wanted to wait until we got back to break the news, but now seems like the perfect time.”

  “I’m so proud of you!” I say, but even as the words come out, I feel my stomach do a flip. “So… wait, where… uh… what does this mean?”

  Adam swallows. “It means after graduation I’m going to Boston. And then… who knows. Wherever the chapter needs me.”

  I’m struck still for a moment before I smile, shaking my head. “Well, this is amazing! And hey, maybe you’ll get assigned to a university in Baltimore, and then we can—”

  “There’s no Alpha Sigma chapter in Baltimore,” he says, still holding me in his arms. “The closest one is University of Virginia.”

  “Oh,” I say as my heart rate kicks up. “Well, that’s not too far.”

  “It sure isn’t. Just a few hours.”

  “We can make that drive.”

  “Of course,” he says. “If that’s where they send me.”

  And with those words I hear all the ones he doesn’t say, like or they could assign me to a school in Georgia or Illinois or freaking Alaska.

  Still, I keep my smile in place, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug.

  “No matter where they send you, we’ll figure it out. I’ll go to Boston with you for the summer and then come finish out my last semester here at Palm South and then…” I bite my lip, pulling back with a shrug. “And then, we’re on a new adventure.”

  “Exactly. A new adventure. Together.”