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Ironic that I am finding comfort in a stranger’s car. But given my options, I’d rather take my chances with someone I didn’t know than with the three I do.
And after what happened tonight? I’m royally fucked.
nineteen
PHOENIX
I’ve said it before,and I’ll say it again. Fuck Mondays. Seriously. I get up a little earlier than I normally would because I want to avoid my roommate, who’s extremely mad at me. I mean, I ditched her, but I didn’t dare tell her why I ran out of the party on Friday. I don’t need to relive that mistake, and she’ll ask too many questions and probably plan my wedding to one of them. That, or she’ll just think I’m a whore like the rest of the school.
Quietly, I leave the room. Well, as quietly as I can with a huge door that makes an extremely loud sound when it latches and shuts. Which is also why I’m taking the stairs. I won’t have to wait for the elevator in case she decides to come stalking out of the room to ask why I’m leaving so soon.
I need some peace and quiet. I got a lot of that this weekend because she went home for the rest of the weekend, leaving me to have the dorm room to myself. It was pure fucking bliss.
But now it’s Monday, damnit.
As I head into the very empty dining hall, the smell of pancakes hits my nose, and my stomach immediately grumbles. I smell bacon and sausage and practically run to the serving area where all the pancakes are being made.
I make a huge stack on my plate and grab a couple sausage links and slices of bacon. Then I pick up an orange juice on my way to the table and am thankful that it’s quiet and most students are not up yet.
While on Friday night everyone seemed to ignore my presence, I don’t trust that it will be the same for today. Well, almost everyone ignored me.
A certain trio definitely did not ignore me.
They touched me, kissed me, made me see stars. Every touch lit my body up like it was ready to explode, and of course it did. My body wanted—no craved—more of their touch. My mind was the only thing trying to talk some sense into the rest of me, though obviously failing.
I push those thoughts back in my head and I dig into my fluffy pancakes. Minus the syrup. I hate syrup. I smile thinking about how my mom would always laugh and shake her head at me when I would eat pancakes or waffles without any butter or syrup. She said it was an insult to the food. I just didn’t like the sticky feel of the syrup. The thought has me giggling, remembering a time I proved to my mom just how messy it was.
“I can’t believe you are my daughter. You will douse a hotdog or burger in ketchup, but eat pancakes plain.” Mom laughs.
“It’s sticky, Mom! No one wants to be sticky while they eat!” I stick my tongue out at her.
“What are we, cavemen? You can use a fork, knife, even a napkin while you eat. Oh, and then you can wash up after!” She throws a towel at me from the other side of the kitchen island.
“No, you don’t understand. It never fails that even with all the modern technology that utensils afford us, it still gets in hair, or on a shirt. Syrup seeks you out to make you sticky!” I throw the towel back at her. She turns her back to me for a moment and then spins around and my jaw immediately drops.
“Don’t you dare, Mom!” I laugh as I get up from the kitchen stool. The corners of my mom’s mouth tilts up, and she pops the top of the syrup bottle she is holding. “Mom! I’m warning you! Stay where you are!”
“I can’t help it, little bird. It’s taken control of me, and it’s seeking you out!" My mom starts to walk around the counter. “It wants to find a shirt to stick to!”
“Mom! No!” I laugh as we both now run round the kitchen island, trying to dodge each other. She catches up to me and squeezes the bottle, but I dive away from the island at the last second and hear Mom gasp.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I—”
I look up to find Mom has covered Dad in a glob of the sticky sweet stuff. We are all silent for a moment until Dad grabs Mom and hugs her.
“And now you, woman, are covered in it too!” Dad laughs.
I double over in pain from laughing so hard and when I finally catch my breath, I look up at the two of them kissing each other and in complete bliss. “See?” They both turn to me, and I point to the mess they made. “It gets everywhere!”
“Hey, Phoenix.” A voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I see Chad hovering over me.
“Oh, hi.” It has been a couple weeks since I’ve seen Chad. I thought maybe he had to follow the “Phoenix is diseased” rules of campus.
“Um, how have you been?” Chad pulls a chair out and sits down.
“Fine …”
“Yeah, I had a visit from the kings since they thought I drugged you.” His lips thin, and he starts to look around.