Page 7 of The Lies We Tell Ourselves

My dad wasn’t the worst parent in the world, but I wouldn’t say he was the best either. There was no love in our relationship. I was a tool for him to reclaim his youth through. He was a second round pick drafted to the NFL his senior year, but while at practice, he damaged his ACL. Being the man’s man he is, he played with the untreated injury during practice season until he was pulled up by the coach for poor performance. By then, he’d done too much damage to treat the injury. His contract was terminated and his dreams shattered.

When I was five, he threw me a ball in the backyard. I caught and returned it, and from that moment, he has pushed me to succeed where he had failed. The game comes naturally to me, and I loved playing at high school, but it’s lost its appeal the past couple of years. Not that I’d ever breathe life into those words—it’s his way or the highway.

“I expect to hear things have improved by the end of the week, or I’ll be coming down to meet with Grundy myself. Clearly, his ability to discipline you idiots is failing.”

“Yes, Dad.” Silence greeted my words. The asshole hung up on me. Well, fuck him and the horse he rode in on. I’ve got too much to deal with as it is. I quickly changed into some black jeans, a band tee, and slipped on my black high tops. I take a second to glance in the mirror and run my hands through my wild hair with a bit of product.

“You said ten minutes, man. It’s been fifteen,” Buchanan says with a grin as he saunters toward me, leaving the girls he was talking to outside our dorm.

“Yeah, well, shit happens.” My curt response wasn’t a surprise. He gave me a knowing look, his bright blue eyes laced with sympathy and understanding.

“I know, Cap. But if you ever wanna?—”

“No!”

“Well, alright then,” he muttered, flicking through the pages on the clipboard that he held in his hand. “We’re expecting twelve scholarship kids to turn up today.”

“Great. Can’t fucking wait.”

“Try to put a smile on that ugly mug of yours, Cap.” I tried, but it came out more like a grimace, judging by his reaction. “Oookay, maybe not, then.”

I snorted, and my steps faltered as a wave of coldness rolled through my body, a bit like someone had walked over my grave. Goosebumps spread across my skin, and I clenched my fists and bit down on the inside of my cheek as the feeling intensified. I scanned the parking lot, eyeing the people and cars coming and going. Piles of boxes lined the entryway to the dorm block opposite ours. I scanned every face to see if I could pinpoint where this alien sensation came from, but I didn’t recognize anyone.

I’d only ever felt this feeling once before, when I’d stumbled across a little blond boy being picked on by the two biggest pricks in high school. His beseeching pale-blue eyes looked up at me from the dirt where he laid flat on his back as Mark Johnson straddled him, landing punch after punch. It was like time froze and the world stopped turning. Something coiled around my heart and made it stop beating, and I went full beast mode, almost like I’d blacked out as I hauled Mark off the boy with beautiful blue eyes and golden curls that looked like spun sunlight. It didn’t come back into focus until I was sitting on the floor with this boy in my lap, his face buried in the crook of my neck, arms and legs wrapped around my body as he...

“Fuck this,” I muttered to myself as I shook it off. That was a lifetime ago. I shut that train of thought down immediately and locked it up tight. “Right, what do we do now?” I turned to Buchanan to see he’d gone. “Fuck!” I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands in a futile attempt to center myself.

“Thanks for joining me,” Buchanan snarked. “I’ve ticked three off our list already,” he said, slamming the clipboard against my chest. “You stand there and look grumpy.” I rolled my eyes. Fuck my life. Were we done yet? “Just give me the room numbers when I give you the names, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Sure, he says,” he muttered, rolling his sleeves up his arms as he plastered a smile on his face as a young woman and girl walked up to him. They smiled sweetly, instantly hypnotized by his all-American smile. God, this afternoon couldn’t pass quickly enough. I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than be surrounded by people.

CHAPTER

FOUR

JAMIE

Iplaced my boxes on the desk in front of the window, then collapsed on the bed and threw my arm over my face. I was equal parts exhausted and wired. I felt like I could sleep for a hundred years, but the thought of shutting my eyes filled me with a kind of existential dread. The door creaked, and the sound of footsteps drew my attention as I sucked in a deep breath. “Just put them next to the others on the desk,” I mumbled.

“Aww, shit,” a soft sweet voice said. “I’m sorry, I came empty handed.” My eyes snapped open as his words registered, and I sprung off the bed like someone had lit a match under my ass.

“Ugh.” My mouth went dry, and the entire English language evaporated out of my head, leaving nothing but tumbleweeds behind. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and prayed the power of speech would return.

The boy in front of me cracked a smile, lighting up his face. His dark blond hair looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. Judging by the rumpled sheets on the other side of the room, it was entirely possible. But it was his sea glass-green eyes that caught my attention. They held a warmth in them I hadn’t seen in the last few years, and I felt instantly at ease.

“Hey, I’m Malachi, your new roomie.”

“Uh, hi.” I licked my lips and held out my hand. Malachi looked down at it, then up at me, and back down again before tilting his head to the side. I rubbed my hand on my jeans again, worried I had dirt or something on it, when he lurched at me and wrapped me up in a warm hug. It’s the kind a mom gives, and my eyes started to prickle with heat.

“None of that formal stuff here, okay?” He stepped back and cupped my face. Still mute, all I could do was nod.

“This is the last of it, kid.” Aunt Clara’s voice cut through whatever this was, and Malachi stepped back before turning his beaming smile on my aunt.

“Hey,” he held out his hand to her, which she gladly took. “I’m Malachi, his new roommate. I promise I’ll look after him and show him the ropes. I’m a junior here, so I know everything there is to know.”

“Lovely to meet you. I’m Clara, and this is Jamie. What a sweetie you are.” Heat spread across Malachi’s cheeks at my aunt’s words. “I didn’t expect juniors to still be in dorms.”

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