Page 30 of Hits Different

I hate drunk people.

“Fine”, Millie sighs, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

“Do I get a say in this?” I inject levity into my voice. “I don’t want to go to college in an ambulance when Parker finds out I’ve been making out with his girlfriend. No offence, St Clare”.

“None taken, Carter”.

It’s reassuring that Millie’s dislike of me is just as obvious as my dislike of her. It makes me feel like less of an asshole. Even though I don’t think I did anything to warrant it.

Apart from falling in love with her boyfriend. But she doesn’t know that. And now, nobody ever will.

“Just get on with it. Ten seconds. Starting…now!” Zach, a kid from the lacrosse team, yells, with more excitement than the situation warrants.

“Ten seconds would be a record for you, Zach”. Millie smiles sweetly, earning some laughter. “Fine. Screw it”. She turns, and before I know it, we’re full blown making out, right in-front of everyone.

There’s cheers and wolf whistles, when suddenly there’s a huge shout and the sound of breaking glass.

“Whoa! Parker!” someone yells.

Parker? We break apart immediately.

Parker stands ten feet away. He’s holding an empty bottle, and he’s swaying. His hair is plastered to the side of his head, and there’s an expression of white-hot hatred flushed across his face. He’s glaring a hole straight through me.

“You bastard”. His voice is low, dangerous.

“I can explain”. I’ve never seen him look at me like this before. “It’s not what it looks like”.

“No? Because it looks like you’re taking away the one thing that you could never have”. He snarls, his veins straining against his skin. “You couldn’t just let me win, could you? Not once. Life takes it so fucking easy on you, Brandon”.

“Parker, that’s insane”. But before I can say another word, his hands curl into fists and with a roar, he lunges straight at me.

Chapter 13

Time Pieces

Parker

It takes Brandon 24 hours to make himself at home, 48 to become the talk of the campus and by the end of the week, he’s practically running the place.

I’ve always known him to be popular, but this is something else. It’s like he’scampaigning, I realise, watching him offer to Skype with the daughter of one of the coach’s who’s having a hard time choosing between colleges.

A one-man PR machine. Shake everyone’s hand. Learn everyone’s name. Remember a thoughtful detail about their lives to share with them next time.

It’s the first time I’ve ever noticed how similar he is to his father.

“Brandon’s fitting in well”, Simon remarks. We’re in reception, where I’m back on phone duty. I haven’t called Simon out on what I overheard him say about me. It’s too embarrassing.

I’m rummaging through drawers when something catches my eye. A photograph buried amongst a ton of old pens and paperclips.

“I wish he paid as much attention to his paperwork as he did his social calendar”, Simon slides a folder towards me. I immediately recognise Brandon’s forms. “We’re missing his hospital discharge papers. Can you ask him for them asap?”

“Sorry. I must have forgotten the first time”.

“That’s why the professionals do the inductions”. A light accusation fills the room. “Even if they’re for your friend. It’s important not to cut corners. This is a business, after all”.

“Got it”, I say tightly, closing the drawer on the photograph of Simon and a woman wearing an engagement ring that I’ve never seen before, “I’ll go get them now”.

“You can finish for the day, if you like”, Simon calls, not looking up. I glance at the clock on the wall on my way out. It’s barely lunchtime.

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