Page 12 of Sunrises & Salvation

ADAM

M y class today let out early, so thank fuck I’m able to miss a majority of the people crowding the sidewalks like they usually do.

The trees sway under the light summer breeze, a reprieve from the stuffy classroom I was in.

There’s nothing I hate more than a teacher who can’t teach.

Sitting in front of a whiteboard and reading word for word out of the textbook should not be considered teaching.

My mind was distant, though, and I know I’m going to have to spend my time this weekend going back over the lecture because I didn’t pay attention to a word that came out of my professor’s mouth.

And it’s all his fault.

Hunter Collins.

Who I can’t get out of my mind, no matter how hard I try to push the thoughts of him away. I haven’t been back to the café, at the risk of seeing him again. I’ve avoided hanging out with Brittany and Zoey just in case they want to invite him somewhere.

I can feel the thread of my control fraying, the chord I’ve kept neatly braided and tucked away for no one to take advantage of. It’s all because of him.

Brown eyes and brown hair, which a majority of the population has. It shouldn’t be fucking with my head like it is.

I want to avoid him, to keep my distance, and hopefully the disgusting feelings I have for him will disappear.

But then I think of his smile, how his teeth were perfectly white and straight against his pillowy pink lips, and I wonder how they would feel against mine.

And then I’m right back to the place I started.

I’ve tried to make plans with Danielle to distract myself, but she keeps coming up with excuses for why she can’t come over. I’ve isolated myself, and I’m feeling the effects, and it’s only been a week. One week since I watched the sweet, shy smile fade off Hunter’s face.

Fuck it. I don’t care. I don’t.

Pulling out my phone, I text the group chat.

Adam: Pizza at my place? Out of class early.

Brittany: Sure, I’ll be there. I have to drop my stuff off at my dorm first.

Zoey: Me too

Danielle: Can’t, I’m packing.

Packing? For what? I furrow my eyebrows in thought, staring down at my phone while I walk to my dorm. I wasn’t aware she had plans this weekend, and she normally tells me when she’s going home. Normally because she needs a buffer between her and her mom.

Privately, I text her.

Adam: Where are you going?

Oh my god, I sound like a possessive asshole boyfriend. I start to type out another message to be nicer, when the bubbles pop up alerting me of her forming a message.

Danielle: I made a friend, and we’re going to his house for his birthday this weekend.

Alarm bells ring in my head, because I refuse to let her go to some stranger’s house. I don’t care if it's a guy or a girl, she knows better than that.

Adam: Absolutely not.

Danielle: Don’t tell me what to do :)

My eye twitches in annoyance. I love Danielle— she’s smart and caring, and she doesn’t give a shit that our relationship isn’t conventional. The two of us are just doing the best that we can. But her message pisses me off all the same.

Adam: You are NOT going to a stranger’s house. JFC, Danielle. Do you realize all the things that could happen to you? You could be murdered, or worse.

Danielle: *eye roll emoji* I already had a background check run on him. It came back clean, and there’s nothing to worry about.

That means there’s everything to worry about. I don’t want her to go alone.

Adam: I’m coming with.

Danielle: Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Adam: nonnegotiable. I’ll drive you down there and we can stay at a hotel. You can hang out with your friend, and I’ll make sure you don’t die.

Danielle: I said no.

Adam: And I don’t care. If you don’t let me come, I’ll follow you the whole way there, and then your little friend will think I’m a creep. I’ll make sure to make it awkward too.

Her text bubbles pop up and disappear. I know she’s wanting to cuss me out in those messages, but she’s too nice for that.

Danielle: I asked him if it was okay. The plan was for me to drive us down there because he doesn’t have a car. But since you strong-armed your way into our plans, you’re driving.

Great. Fuck my life.

After Brittany and Zoey leave, I start packing my duffel bag.

What am I even supposed to take for a weekend trip?

Normally it would be for a special occasion.

Skiing at a luxury resort. Flying for a beach getaway.

Last year, I rented a cabin and the four of us spent the weekend getting drunk on moonshine and making a bubble bath in a hot tub. The bubbles were insane.

I refuse to text Danielle and ask, though.

After she volunteered me to drive this weekend, I’m a little cross with her.

Why can’t she see I was trying to protect her?

Not everyone has her best interests in mind.

She’s too trusting and too friendly. She loves people and loves caring for others.

A great trait to have, especially since she wants to be a doctor.

Bedside manners are practically ingrained in her blood, so different from the parents who raised us.

I carefully plan out my outfits, matching my shirts to my shorts so they look cohesive but not too overbearing. Socks, underwear, sleeping clothes, check.

Hygiene products, my mini shampoo and conditioner bottles. Cologne. Toothbrush and toothpaste.

I double-check my mental packing list, making sure I didn’t miss anything, and when I feel comfortable with everything I’ve chosen, I start to pack.

My phone pings with a message thirty minutes later. I had just finished putting my toiletry bag on top of my clothes in my duffel and zipped it shut. If that’s Danielle canceling tomorrow, I’m going to lose my marbles. I haven’t precariously packed all of my stuff for us to not go.

Danielle: I’m at the store getting snacks.

Adam: Okay.

Danielle: I got your dumb snacks. I wanted to give you one last chance to back out though.

Why does she not want me to go so badly? Is it someone she likes? Is that what this is?

Adam: Why don’t you want me to go?

Danielle: Because he’s my friend, and I don’t want you to scare him off. You’re off-putting on your best days, and an asshole on your worst.

Well, fuck me.

Adam: I’m not going to be an asshole. I’m going because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Is that so horrible of me?

Danielle: Yes.

Adam: What time are we leaving tomorrow?

Danielle: Tomorrow? We’re leaving tonight. We’re walking to your dorm right now, so be ready in 10.

I ignore the message, exiting out of the app.

Why, why did I do this to myself? I’m horrible at making friends, even Danielle called me out for it.

I’m too prickly and too stuck up for most people to enjoy.

I don’t have any hobbies, so I have nothing to talk about with people.

My humor comes across as snarky. Maybe my father was right, I am useless.

My mood plummets, and I pull the hair at the nape of my neck, hoping for the pain to bring me a semblance of control. I’m in control of my life. No one can hurt me. Not anymore.

I have to make it through this weekend and see that this friend of Danielle’s isn’t a psycho axe murderer, and then it will all be fine.

A knock sounds at my door, and I can hear two people talking. Panic in one person’s voice and the other soothing tone. Grabbing my bag off my bed, I do a once-over of my room to make sure everything is in place for me to be gone for a few days.

My book bag is on the coffee table, so I’ll make sure to grab that as well before we leave, so I can keep myself busy with something while Danielle entertains herself and her friend.

Walking out of my room and into the living area, there are two people, almost nose to nose, talking in hushed tones. I freeze, my body tensing with the need to flee.

Danielle turns to look at me, a wide smile gracing her face. Her friend turns, and I’m hit with a wave of something brutal. Something dark, deep, and primal.

Hunter Collins, the object of my desire, is staring at me with his brown eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted.

A hint of his pink tongue pops out of his mouth to swipe over his lower lip.

My eyes zero in on it, and my pulse is thrumming in my veins.

My heart is threatening to burst out of my chest.

I am so fucked.