Page 115 of The Dollhouse

But at a party? At a party we were all the same. Just because you were at a Hillcrest party didn’t mean you had to be a student. And the same went for the parties at neighboring campuses. Walls came down, crumbling thanks to the addition of alcohol.

I couldn’t say how much later it was, but eventually a grinning red-headed guy stood before me. He was slow to take a seat beside me on the sofa, running a hand through his hair as he studied me, green eyes eating me up, lingering in places a boy’s stare would. My chest, my neck, my lips.

Oh, yeah. If I had to guess, I’d say he was already smitten with me. I just wasn’t sure if he was more smitten with me than he was with my sister. I’d never known Willow to move slowly when it came to a guy she wanted, and that had been proven when she’d slept with my ex, but maybe she was trying to turn a new leaf. I mean, Wyatt was definitely not her usual type, either.

It would’ve been commendable, if it was true and if I gave a shit. But I didn’t, so here we were.

“You look amazing,” Wyatt said, grinning ear to ear. He was beside me, careful to not let his leg touch mine. He looked down at himself, adding, “I look like I just came home from a spelling bee or something.”

I laughed, staring at his clothes. He kind of looked like a dressed-up nerd, like he had tried too hard to look good tonight. The dark blue polo he wore just didn’t fit him that well, and I didn’t mean physically. He’d probably be more at home in a t-shirt and old jeans.

“No, I think you look good, Wyatt.” As I spoke, I noticed Wyatt blushed, and it took everything in me to not laugh again. “Want something to drink? There is a lot in the kitchen. Some wine coolers, too.” I still had my cup, which was mostly full since I hadn’t really touched it.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m not really much of a drinker.”

“Me either, but you know, when at a college party…” I shrugged.

“Yeah, I really don’t come to these things, either.” He looked around, seeming very uncomfortable as he saw the people dancing a few feet away, dry-humping as they swayed with the beat. “I meant it when I said I normally do my homework on Friday nights.”

“I normally work on Friday nights,” I mused, thinking of the Dollhouse. God, I missed it. I couldn’t wait to get back to it, and to my girls. I’d spoken to Jamie a little since being here, and it sounded like she had everything under control. She’d worked there longer than me; if anyone knew the ins and outs of the Dollhouse and what it took to keep it running, it was her.

Wyatt blinked, probably because I’d never told him that I had a job before. When you were hanging out with people, apparently that was one of the first things you talked about. “Where do you work?”

“Nowhere around here. I got the job after I left Hillcrest.”

“And you still have it? Even though you’re back?” He spoke the last question slowly, as if it didn’t make sense—and that’s because it didn’t. Why would I still hold that job if I was officially back at HU?

I ran a finger around the rim of my cup. “Yeah, I guess… I didn’t quit because I didn’t know how long I’d be here. I didn’t know if I’d decide to leave again. Coming back here wasn’t easy, and I guess I just thought I’d feel out of place after everything that happened.”

Wyatt leaned closer to me, asking, “And do you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just… harder than I thought. I haven’t sat down with my parents or my sister yet.” And now that Lake was trying to come this weekend, I wouldn’t. That would have to wait until I was free and I knew for a fact Lake wasn’t coming. I’d rather take my boyfriend than my parents and my stupid sister any day.

Wyatt leaned forward now, saying, “Do you want to talk somewhere else? It’s kind of hard to hear you. The music—” He stopped talking, but I knew what he was about to say. Loud. It was very, very loud.

I nodded, and together, we got up. Wyatt and I moved through the house, heading out the back, where a small patio area sat. It was where people were smoking—some of the cigarettes not the legal kind, let’s just say—but I was used to the stench of cigarettes and ash after working at the Dollhouse for so long. Many of the clients would either try lighting one up in the club or they’d go outside for a break to both calm their dicks and smoke one out.

“So,” Wyatt said, pulling up a patio chair closer to the one I sat in, “you’re nervous to see your parents again.” His top half leaned closer to me, like he was sincerely interested in the answer, like he really cared.

“Yeah, they’re… they’re not the best parents around.”

“I think I got that, based on what you told me before,” he said, eyebrows creasing. In the darkness of the night, his red hair appeared brown. “Well, you know I’m always here for you. If you need support or just someone to listen to your rant, I’m here.”

I smiled at him. “I appreciate that. Thank you.” Pausing, I glanced down to my lap, at the cup I still held onto. I hadn’t taken a sip since before Wyatt had arrived, and I didn’t know if I wanted to take another. So I took the cup and set it on the ground near the chair, where I’d probably forget about it. Oh, well. “My sister actually started going to HU last week, too.”

“Damn. And you haven’t seen her yet, either?”

“In passing. She’s… she’s the kind of person who plays nice to your face, smiles and acts sweet while you’re looking at her, but the moment you turn your back to her, it’s like she turns into another person.” I shook my head. “She learned that from my parents, I guess. I was always more straightforward, but my sister’s the backstabbing kind.”

I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I probably sound bitter. It’s not what you want to hear—”

Wyatt spoke, “I don’t mind. I mean it. I know how bad it can get when you keep them boiling up inside. It’s good to talk to someone about things.” His voice lowered to a whisper, “I know we don’t really know each other that well, but… I’m here for you, Zoey.”

It took me too long to say, “Thank you.”

We got comfortable in the wicker chairs, and then we kept talking. Not just about my stupid parents and sister, but about everything. Anything and everything. Wyatt told me about his scholarship, how he’d had to go through tons of interviews just to be considered—something Hillcrest had apparently put in place after allowing girls in. He told me again what he majored in, what classes he took, how it wasn’t too hard to juggle work and his classes, but as the semester went on, he assumed it would get more difficult.

I learned a lot about him, and the more I learned, the more I knew everything Lake had told me was right. Wyatt didn’t deserve to be played, to be toyed with, but since he was the unlucky guy who’d gotten my sister’s attention at orientation, he was the one. I couldn’t change my plan now that I knew Wyatt wasn’t a bad guy. As unfortunate as it was, it had to be done.

---