“That rabbit trail was incredible. I was totally with you for the whole ride.”
I laugh at the way she views my verbal diarrhea. There’s something about her that feels safe yet wild, like a fun aunt who sneaks you drinks but then holds your hair back when you get sick later.
“What did this hot-and-cold professor look like? I bet he wasn’t bad on the eyes.” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down rapidly.
I let out a deep breath, deciding that if I’m going to share all this with anyone, Becka feels like the best person to do so with. “Ugh, he’s probably the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Tall, at least six feet. Dark brown hair, and facial hair he can’t decide if he wants to grow into a full beard or shave every day, so it looks like a permanent scruff I want to run my fingers through. His shoulders are broad, but the way his waist tapers, you just know he has those V lines. He’s always in these perfect tailored suits that hug his behind. And the way he carries himself? He’s older, and I imagine he knows exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom which is really appealing because I have no experience there.”
“Ooh, I love a tall, dark, and scruffy man so much I married one.” She has a dreamy look on her face.
“Yeah, but then he opens his stupidly attractive mouth and ruins everything. That’s why I call him Professor A-hole.”
Becka laughs. “To his face?”
“Oh, biscuits, no!”
Amanda calls the book club to order, and we spend the next hour talking about a small-town baseball romance and baseball pants. The group is fun and feral, and I love their energy. It’s a welcome distraction from the heartache I feel about Daddy Dom.
CHAPTER 20
EMMA
JUNIOR YEAR
After a summer full of babysitting, I’m excited to start the new school year, even though I’m going to miss spending time with Becka’s little girl Hallie. She is the sweetest, but has a lot of energy, just like my younger sisters Erin and Evie.
I also got to spend a lot of time with my sister Lizzy and was able to play some improv games with her. It reinvigorated me, reassuring me that the path I’m on in my educational journey is the right one. And my father took the news of my change in majors surprisingly well; it doesn’t hurt that I told him the day after he found out that my sister Ella was sexually active. He was less concerned about my future in that moment.
My class load this year is packed full of theatre classes, and I’m really starting to enjoy this little community on campus. They’re welcoming and accepting in a way I’ve yet to experience at this school. The reason I chose theatre and not social work as my field of study was because the majority of the girls in social work aren’t actually interested in going into that field. I found out after my freshman year that majoring in anything under the health science umbrella was code for looking for a husband. These women don’t want a job after graduation; thebuilding is next to the business school, and they’re actually looking for their MRS degree.
And the business guys are no better, looking for their perfect version of a Stepford wife while they network and make connections as future CEOs. And anyone that doesn’t fit their mold is labeled a black sheep, like us theatre kids.
I’m not even thinking about marriage at this point, and I have other goals for myself. I want to help people like Lizzy, give them a place where they belong and can thrive.
Growing up with a special needs sister, I’m used to being treated like an outsider. Kids didn’t want to play with us at the park. People would stare at us at the grocery store, especially when we forgot Lizzy’s headphones and the noises overwhelmed her. But the worst was when we took Lizzy to a camp she’d been excited about. It was just a regular summer camp, and my mom made sure they could accommodate Lizzy’s needs when she signed her up. They assured her they could. But they couldn’t, or didn’t, I’m not really sure.
When we went up to visit her on family day, I got so mad at how she was being treated. After I overheard a counselor talking badly about her, I got in her face, yelling and shouting, and I let fly a curse word—and not just any curse, the worst freaking one. Lizzy had a huge meltdown because of it.
Initially I thought all the yelling and noise had upset her because of her auditory processing issues. I asked her a bunch of yes or no questions to try to get to the bottom of it. When I asked her if it was my cursing that upset her, she nodded her head emphatically. Ever since then, I’ve gotten creative with the way I curse, choosing not to use the words that upset her, even when she’s not around.
After that experience at the camp, I wanted to find other places that would offer Lizzy similar experiences while also meeting her needs. We found Camp New Hope, and Lizzy’s been going ever since. She found a community that supportsher, and I’m finally starting to feel like I’ve found mine on campus.
I let a few new friends talk me into going to a frat party, and we agreed to meet in the quad and walk over together. Rylee and Megan have been very sweet, and even though I’m not that enthused about the party, I’m excited to spend time with them.
“The guys in this frat are so hot.” Rylee links her arm in mine during the short walk across campus.
“I heard they throw the best parties,” Megan adds.
“I thought it was a dry campus, being that it’s a Christian school and all?” I ask, confused.
“Frat Row isn’t actually on campus, so that’s how they get around the university rules. Back in the fifties, a bunch for fraternities bought up houses that backed up to the college. Eventually they paved footpaths to connect it to campus, but their addresses technically make them off-campus,” Rylee explains.
“I’ve never been to a frat party,” I admit.
“Girl, seriously? You’re a junior. How have you never been to a frat party?”
“I dunno,” I say, suddenly self-conscious. Actually, I do know. I spent most of my freshman year with my nose in a book, and my sophomore year trying to get a certain dom to pay more attention to me, and a certain professor to pay less.
“Well, we got you,” Megan says. “If you start to feel uncomfortable, just scratch your nose and we’ll leave. Okay?”
