I wait for that moment of panic, of regret, but it doesn’t come. Only certainty and relief.
I lie back on my bed, wondering how long they will take to work.
And then, I cry. Not for myself, but for the few people in this world who love me. Because I know that tomorrow they will be hurting beyond measure, but I also know that in the long run, they will be far, far better off.
Chapter One
Beth
Present Day (Three years later)
I take my seat in the enormous lecture hall, settling in for an hour of tedium. If you thought Psych 101 would be interesting, you’d be wrong. Or at least, the lectures aren’t especially interesting, but I suppose that’s more the fault of Professor Fawning than the actual subject matter.
The class itself is a mixed bag. Freshman and sophomore psych majors, like me, sit in the first few rows, intent on succeeding in a course that will be the foundation of our studies here at Rill Rock University. But there are also plenty of upperclassmen just looking to get an elective out of the way—something they’d hoped would offer easy credits. Which it probably will. It’s only the third class of the semester, but so far it doesn’t seem especially difficult.
My eyelids droop, threatening to lead me into an inconvenient nap, so I straighten my spine, abandoning the comfort of my seat-back.
I was up late. Not partying, like most of the other students half-asleep right now, but manically trying to finish the first assignment for my Shakespeare class.
I peek at my watch. Professor Fawning will cut off his droning any minute now, and it can’t come soon enough. I need to get my legs moving to ward off this late-morning lethargy.
“There he is, like fucking clockwork,” my roommate, Elana, murmurs from beside me, never one to miss an opportunity for a well-placed expletive. “Your sexy-as-fuck bodyguard.”
But I already knew he was there. I’ve always had an inexplicable kind of sixth sense for his proximity, and I glance over to the doorway, where he casts a towering shadow into the room.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. David isn’t here out of his own interest, or even concern. He cares about me, sure, in his own big-brotherly way, but that isn’t the reason he’s here. My brother’s oldest friend is outside my psych class, waiting for me like he did on Tuesday and last Thursday before that, because he promised Sammy he’d look out for me. And, it would appear, he’s taken that to mean babysitting.
But I don’t need a damned babysitter. Or bodyguard, as Lani put it.
Fawning dismisses us, and I dutifully march over to my de facto on-campus big brother, Lani keeping step beside me. I barely meet David’s eyes as he hands me an iced coffee. They’re too disarming, and they still affect me in ways no big-brother type should.
“You don’t have to keep checking up on me,” I grumble.
I don’t know if Sammy actually asked him to look after me outright—though I suspect he did—or if David just took it upon himself as his implied duty, but I’ve survived freshman orientation and the first week of classes intact, so I’m hoping he’ll back off soon. There’s something about the luster of his company that’s always been dulled by knowing that it’s only out of obligation.
“You can check up on me, anytime,” Lani suggests, her lashes batting dramatically.
That’s her. No poise, no guile. She thinks David is hot, and she wants him to know it. Not that he could miss it.
“No sweat, kid,” he replies, ignoring Lani’s comment as he slings a friendly arm around my shoulders, and we fall into step toward the building’s exit, sipping our coffees as we head in the direction of the student union—or Stu-U, as David calls it.
“You know, I like coffee,” Lani interjects, refusing to be ignored. “I like toned and inked-up arms around me, too.”
I can’t help my laugh. David does have fantastic arms. The tattoos are mostly new—a few older than the rest—an array of religious symbols, admired figures, and quotes.
“Don’t you have your own friends, gnat?” David murmurs absently to Lani.
I wince inwardly. I don’t like that he’s given her a pet name. Even one that implies she’s annoying and unwanted. Because she’s the kind of girl guys want. She’s freaking beautiful. All deep red waves and chocolate eyes, curvy in all the right places…Yeah, she knows what guys see when they look at her, which is why she takes David’s teasing in stride.
“Friends, yes. My own personal bodyguard? Not since I ditched my last mistake, but I’m in the market for my next one,” she says cheekily.
I let out another laugh. She really is something else. Fortunately for me, though, David ignores her.
I probably should have said something to her about him earlier, back when I first noticed her interest. Or maybe I should have anticipated it. David is the kind of guy who attracts crushes—he always has been. But now, he’s something different. Something more.
I didn’t follow David to school here, and I’m glad no one has ever noticed my crush enough to presume otherwise. RRU is a state school here on Long Island, where we all grew up, and though it isn’t big, it is renowned for its School of Arts and Sciences, which includes the psychology and social work program that brought me here. After everything I’ve endured in my short lifetime, I know what saved me, and I want to be that—to do that—for other kids someday.
David, on the other hand, is here for the creative writing program. Words have always been his thing, though he’d always kept his passion mostly to himself. In fact, I doubt even his closest friends—my brother included—knew all that much about his interest or talent before he won that national short story competition their sophomore year of high school.
