Page 7

“Thanks for making breakfast,” I tell him, grabbing plates from the cabinet. “I have class at eight so I’m probably going to eat, shower, and go straight there.”

I went right into a masters program in communications after I graduated, so I guess I’m sort of a professional student right now.

I also tutor at the library as well because I enjoy helping students make the connections necessary to succeed. Sometimes, it just means explaining it in a different way than it’s taught in class.

“Such a scoundrel,” Dad teases as he scoops food onto the plates with the toast.

“We can’t all be perfect,” I snort, unable to say it without breaking into a laugh. Sitting at the island with him, I start to scarf down my food.

Dad always makes sure we eat before we leave for the day, because our schedules won’t always allow us to eat for hours after.

“I can’t wait to get through midterms,” Dad sighs. “The students are always so whiny in their emails during this time.”

Smirking, I finish my food. “You signed up for this, Dad,” I remind him. “I’m sure you’ll work out your frustrations in healthy ways.”

Dad barks out a laugh because we don’t hide things from each other and I know all about why he was late to dinner yesterday.

Although, I didn’t mention how I almost ran over a student because she was rushing. He’s very particular about safety and it would just piss him off. Putting my plate in the sink, I run upstairs to shower and get dressed for the day. I wonder if I’ll bump into that girl again, though hopefully not with my car.

Lifting my backpack to my shoulder, I glance around the room to see if I missed anything. There’s an old photo of mystep-mom and step-sister, and I wonder how she is. Nina was kind of a princess, so I doubt she’s any worse for wear.

My step-mother spoiled her, and Nina would whine about how she didn’t want to get dragged to the stuffy events her mom would ask her to go to. Ugh, I can’t stand rich girls, which is why I tend to go to a bar downtown if I want to get my dick wet.

There’s no strings, just sex in a bathroom or in an alley. Dad just shrugs and says things may change when I meet the right girl or my scent match, but I saw how ruined he was after Vivian left him. While she wasn’t his scent match, I know he loved the rich bitch. I don’t want to give anyone that kind of power.

I can hear my dad in the living room as I leave, muttering to himself as he answers emails. No matter how much he tries to delegate, he can’t help himself and will still end up responding to his students. As much as he denies it, he’s a good man and an incredible teacher. The university is lucky to have him.

The streets are quiet as I drive through them, and I know that there will be snow on the ground before I know it. Didn’t the news say there would be a cold front coming in soon?

Nina

One month later

I survived my midterms, but this weather may kill me. There’s the beginning of snow on my windshield and I’m shivering as I take off my window coverings.

“It's not even Thanksgiving yet!” I yell, thumping on the steering wheel in anger. I kept shivering last night no matter how many blankets I covered myself with, and this explains why. “Fuck.”

I’m supposed to work tonight, but don’t know if the owner will open up in this weather. Though, it’s a Friday night so hemay. People will want to party, and alcohol is supposed to keep you warm.

I’m parked in a grocery parking lot and pull on jeans, two long-sleeve shirts, a hoodie and combat boots to go to school. This southern girl is not prepared for snow. “I’m so fucked,” I sigh as I pull my blonde and pink hair into a messy bun.

The problem with being alone so much is that I talk to myself a lot. I try not to mutter to myself while I’m on campus, but I have no friends even after months of living here, so I guess it doesn’t matter if people think I’m insane.

How do I tell someone that I can’t have them over to my dorm room to hang out because I don’t have one? All of the little things other people take for granted here are made more difficult for me since I live out of my vehicle.

Turning on the car and blasting the heater, I blow on my hands to attempt to get warm. I worked two shifts this week and my car needed an oil change, leaving me without enough money to get a little heating pad to sleep on.

I found out that a space heater might kill me if I leave it on inside of my car, so I decided against it.

At this point, everything might kill me. Taking a deep breath to keep from spiraling as tears prick my eyes in frustration, I check my phone to see if I have any texts from my boss, breathing a sigh of relief when I see one from Mikey.

Mikey:

Snow just means people drink more! Bottoms up, Nina. See you tonight.

Me:

I’ll be there.