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Authors: J. Lynn

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BOOK: Wait for You
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#

Sunday morning didn’t feel right without Cam, his obsession with hard-boiled eggs, that damn little skillet, and all those yummy baked goods. I woke up early, as if some internal clock was expecting him to knock on my door. Of course, it didn’t happen and he hadn’t texted all day Saturday. I imagined that he was hanging out with his family and friends that were still living up there.
 

I tried not to miss Cam, because he was
 
just a friend, and while I wished Brit and Jacob were around, it wasn’t like I
missed them
, missed them. It wasn’t the same. Or maybe it was.
 

Pulling out a box of cereal, I made a yuck face. I really could go for some blueberry muffins. I ate my cereal, feeling all kinds of grumpy. I’d just finished washing the bowl when my phone rang.
 

I hurried into the living room and drew up short when I saw the name on my caller ID.
 

Mom.
 

Ooooh fuck.

The phone kept ringing while I debated on picking it up and tossing it out the window. I had to answer, though. Mom and Dad
never
called. So it had to be important. Answering the phone, I winced. “Hello.”

“Avery.”

Ah, there was the voice—the cultured, clipped, highly impersonal, and cold voice of Mrs. Morgansten. I bit back a string of curses that would burn her perfect ears. “Hi, Mom.”

There was a huge gap of silence. My brows rose as I wondered if she misdialed me or something. Finally she spoke. “How is West Virginia?”

She said ‘West Virginia’ like it was some kind of venereal disease. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes my parents forgot where they came from.
 
“It’s really good. You’re up early.”

“It’s Sunday. Theo has insisted on doing an early brunch with your Father at the Club. Otherwise I would not be up at this time.”

Theo
? I plopped down on the couch, my mouth hanging open. For the love of little babies everywhere, Theo was
Blaine’s
father. My parents, they were such… fuckers.
 

“Avery, are you there?” Impatience filled her tone.

“Yes. I’m here.” I grabbed a pillow and shoved it in my lap. “You’re going to have brunch with Mr. Fitzgerald?”

“Yes.”

And that was all she said to that. Yes. Like it was no big deal. The Fitzgerald’s paid the Morgansten’s off and I was labeled a lying whore, but it was all good in the hood, because they all could still have brunch at the club.

“How is school?” she asked, but she sounded bored. She was probably surfing the Internet for her next cosmetic procedure. “Avery?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “School is perfect. West Virginia is perfect. Everything is perfect.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady. After everything you put us through—”

“Everything I put
you
through?” I was living in an alternate universe.
 

“And still putting us through,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken a word. “You’re clear across the country, going to some little university in
West Virginia
instead of—”

“There’s nothing wrong with this school, Mom, or West Virginia. You were born in Ohio. Not that different—”

“That is something I try not to remember.” Her huff was pretty epic. “Which brings me to the point of this call.”

Thank God, baby Jesus, and the Holy Ghost.

“You need to come home.”

“What?” I clenched the pillow to my chest.

She sighed. “You need to stop playing around and come home, Avery. You’ve made your point quite clear by up and doing something as childish as this.”

“Childish? Mom, I hated being there—”

“And who do you have to blame for that, Avery?” Some of the coolness slipped from her voice.
 

My mouth dropped open. This wasn’t the first time she’d said something like that. Not by a long shot, but it was like a punch in the chest. I stared at the window, shaking my head slowly.

“We only want the best for you,” she began again, regaining the cool aloofness with a line of pure bullshit. “That’s all we’ve wanted and the best thing for you to do is to come home.”

I started to laugh, but it got stuck in my throat. Coming home was in my best interest? The woman was crazy. Just talking to her made it feel like I got the crazy on me.
 

“Some things have happened here,” she added, and then cleared her throat. “You should come home.”

How many times had I done what they wanted? Too many times, but this was one time I couldn’t back down. Going home was equivalent to sticking my head in a meat grinder and then asking why it hurt. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “No.”

“Excuse me?” My mother’s voice turned shrill.

“I said, no. I’m not coming back home.”
 

“Avery Samantha Morgan—”

“I’ve got to go. It was nice talking to you, Mom. Goodbye.” And then I hung up the phone before she could say anything else.
 
I placed the cell on the coffee table and waited.

One minute went by, two minutes, and then five minutes. Letting out a sigh of relief, I collapsed against the couch. I shook my head, literally blown away by the conversation. My mother was insane. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. What a way to start a Sunday morning.
 

A sudden knock on the door startled me.
 

Hopping to my feet, I hurried around the couch, wondering who it could be. It was too early for any of my friends to have come home. Hell, it wasn’t even nine yet, which meant it was probably also too early for a serial killer to pay a visit.
 

I stretched up and peered through the peephole. “No way.” My heart did a series of backflips as I yanked open the door. “Cam?”

He turned around, lips tipped in a crooked grin. In his hand was a grocery bag. “So, I woke up around four this morning and thought I could really eat some eggs. And eggs with you is so much better than eggs with my sister or my dad. Plus my mom made pumpkin bread. I know how you like pumpkin bread.”

Struck silent, I stepped aside and watched him carry his bag into the kitchen. The back of my throat burned, my lower lip was doing this really weird tremble thing. A knot somewhere deep inside my chest unraveled. My brain clicked off. I didn’t even shut the front door or feel the cool air washing over my bare ankles. I shot forward, crossing the distance between my door and kitchen. Cam turned just as I launched myself at him.

He caught me and stumbled back a step as he caught me with his arms around my waist. I buried my head against his chest, eyes closed and my heart thumping. “I missed you.”

 

Chapter 13

Hunkered down in my hoodie, I shivered as the cold wind whipped between Whitehall and Knutti, rattling the brown and yellow leaves above us. Several were tossed into the air and they spiraled down to the ground, joining the thick carpet of leaves.
 

Brit drew in a deep drag of her cigarette and let it out slowly. “So the next time I answer a late night booty call from Jimmie and I actually go over to his place, what will you do?”

I hobbled from side to side. “Punch you in the vagina?”

“Exactly!” She took one last draw and then put the cigarette out. “God, why are we girls so stupid?”

I fell in step beside her, keeping my arms wrapped around me. “Good question.”

“I mean, I totally know he doesn’t want to be in a relationship, that all he wants is sex, and he’s usually a little drunk and yet I still go over there. Seriously?”

“Do you want to be in a relationship?”

Her lips pursed as she pulled her knit cap down over her ears. “You know, I don’t think so.”

I frowned. “Then why are you so upset because he doesn’t want to be.”

“Because he should want to be in a relationship with me! I’m friggin’ awesome.”

Fighting a grin, I glanced at her. “You are awesome.”

Brit smiled. I’d met Jimmie a couple of times around campus with Brit. He seemed like a pretty okay guy, but I really believed she could do better than some guy that only called her when he was drunk. So I told her that.
 

“And that’s why we’re friends,” she responded, wiggling her arm through mine. “Man, where did fall go? It’s like winter came out of nowhere and bitch smacked us.”

“I know.” I shuddered as we stopped at the intersection. “I feel sorry for the kids who are about to go trick or treating tomorrow night. They’re going to freeze.”

“Fuck the kids,” she said, causing me to giggle. “I’m dressing as an angel—a slutty angel.”

“Of course.”

“And that means I’m basically wearing lingerie. My nipples will probably freeze and fall off.
 
Speaking of which, don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been avoiding the whole party topic.”
 

I had no idea how she went from frozen nipples to that.
 

Outside of the register’s office, she pinned me with a look. “You have to go with us. Everyone is going to be there.”

Looking away, I watched campus police doing a car unlock for an unlucky person. “I don’t know. Not big on Halloween parties.”

“You’re not big on any parties. Come on, you’ve got to come. I need you there. Jimmie will be there and I’ll need you to punch me in the vagina.”

I laughed. “I’m sure Jacob will gladly do that for you.”

“It’s not the same! He doesn’t understand and gives the worst advice. He’d probably tell me to go hook up with him,” she protested, and I had to imagine that was true. “You have to come. Please. Pretty please.”

My resolve to not even consider this party started to crack. Jacob had been talking about it all week. Last night, as Cam and I were finishing up our assignment and in-between him asking me out, he even brought up the party his friend Jase was throwing.
 
Jase was a year younger than Cam and pretty high up in one of the frats, which one I couldn’t remember. I’d seen Cam with him a couple of times, but we’d never spoken. Not that any of that mattered, because even considering going to this party had the beginnings of an ulcer forming in my stomach.
 

“I got to head in here and take care of the stupid scheduling for next semester.”

She’d been having a hell of a time getting classes. I’d been lucky and got into all the classes I’d wanted. “Are you going to cut a bitch?”

“Maybe.” Brit gave me a quick hug. “Thank you for walking me here.”

“No problem.” I was done for the day, so I didn’t have much else to do.

She started up the wide steps but turned around. “Think about the party. Please? You need to go, not just for me, it will be fun. You’ll get to let loose a little. Okay?”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”

“Like really think about?” When I nodded, she said, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Brit headed into the building and I was probably going to be heading to the store to get some Tums. I was going to need them.

#

There were times in my life when I knew what I was thinking was wrong. Knowing that didn’t make things any easier. Going to a Halloween party shouldn’t have me sitting in my moon chair with a bottle of Tums beside me and a carton of Ben & Jerry’s Rocky Road in my hands.
 

A
half
empty
carton of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.

I felt like I was well on my way to becoming the neighborhood cat lady. All I needed was the cats.

Shortly after leaving campus, I had gotten a text from Cam about the party. He wanted me to go. Brit wanted me to go. Jacob wanted me to go. I wanted to go, but….

Groaning, I put the lid on the ice cream and shoved to my feet. I was nineteen years old. Living on my own. I told my mother to suck it and I actually hugged Cam and told him that I missed him. Going to this party shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It was about time that I did something like this. If I didn’t do it now, would I ever do it?
 

Probably not.

I put the ice cream away and then moved onto the spray bottle stashed under the sink. Spraying the surface of everything in my kitchen, I started cleaning with a wicked vengeance.
 

I could do it.

My heart flopped in my chest and it felt like my stomach had dropped to my feet.

No, I couldn’t.

Scrubbing the counter by the stove, the light reflected off the silver bracelet, catching my attention.
 
I stopped, unable to look away from something that had become a staple in my every day life. Putting the bottle down and dropping the cloth, I reached out and slid the bracelet off. Turning my arm over, I forced myself to look at the scar. I was ashamed of it, did everything in my power to hide it, but for what? Staying in my apartment, being antisocial and a general loser? Certain things were probably always going be a no go for me or insanely awkward, but going to a fucking party? Was I really that crippled by what happened, that five years later I couldn’t go to one?

BOOK: Wait for You
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