Page 17 of Game Changer
The first week of classes went by in a blur.
I was practically bored to tears listening to my professors drone on and on about product-line planning and implementation. My hands itch to dye someone’s hair a bright purple. I crave the feeling of being the reason someone’s self-esteem skyrockets. Makeup, hair, nails—I love them all. There’s a sense of freedom that comes with beauty. People can be whoever they want to be.
Maybe that’s why I was so inclined to break my parents’ rules and sneak out to parties. It didn’t happen often since they kept a close eye on me, but on those nights, I’d never felt more alive. I could be whoever I wanted to be—but the older I got, the more I realized I still had no idea who that person I wanted to become was.
This is probably why I’m getting ready for another party even though the one last weekend went so poorly. I’m using this freedom to go buck wild, and I know it won’t end well for me. Still, Ethan not giving me an answer makes me want to take three shots to the face to try and forget I suggested anything in the first place.
I knew there was a high probability he’d turn me down. Why would he want to be friends when I’d ghosted him? I don’t deserve his forgiveness or his friendship. And, sure, I could tell him that my parents disapprove of him, but Ethan is an emotional guy. It was easier to ghost him and tell him nothing at all than tell him the truth and risk hurting his feelings even more.
I at least expected an answer, but when I ran into him yesterday, four days after I proposed we be friends again, he just gave me a weak smile and brushed by me as if I had never said anything at all.
It’s what I deserve, right?
A taste of my own medicine?
But he doesn’t realize that Ihadto end things. He wouldn’t understand. He doesn’t know what the pressure is like to be the first generation ofeverything. The first person in the family to graduate high school. The first person to graduate college. I’m the daughter my parents rely on. Their translator. The one who helps them around the house because they work themselves to the bone holding down three jobs. Their daughter, who feels selfish for going out to a party tonight because it makes her feel like she has a semblance of control in her life when the truth is she’s in a downward fucking spiral she can’t get out of.
Blinking away tears, I coat my face in setting spray once my makeup is finished, and that’s when I hear it.Moanscoming from the other side of the wall.
I’m rooted to my chair as distant thumps soon coincide with porn-star sound effects, and it shouldn’t make me want to flip this damn desk over, but I’m quick to anger. I’ll own that. Maybe that’s why I slam my makeup case down and screech my chair back, slide my slippers on, and stomp over to Ethan’s fucking door and bang the hell out of it.
It’s not like he isn’t allowed to fuck, but it’s just Itaughthim how. I don’t know why I thought he wouldn’t move on at some point. Maybe it’s because I haven’t. I haven’t been able to kiss anyone else. Touch anyone else. Eventhinkabout anyone else without him and that night invading every section of my mind.
The door swings open to reveal a fully dressed Ethan. His neck is red and splotchy, and dammit, I can’t help myself when I look behind him to see what girl he brought into his tiny twin bed.
But the bed is empty, and the moans are still—
“Close the door,” his roommate groans. He pokes his head above the comforter before a cheesy smile crosses his face. “Oh, it’s nice to officially meet you. I’m Leo, and this is—”
“Casey.” A girl giggles from beneath the covers.
Oh my god.
“Um, you too? I’m Maya.”
“I’ve heard,” he replies. “Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”
“Right. Sorry.” I whirl around to head back into my room but Ethan grasps my wrist and closes the door behind him, leaving Leo and Casey to have their fun. I feel like an idiot when he lets go and leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He wants an explanation, but it’s too embarrassing to admit I was jealous for no reason.
Leave it to me to act irrationally.
Again.
It seems to be a trend for me.
“I was just on my way out.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a perfectly wrapped blunt. “This is probably the only thing that’ll help me forget what it sounds like to wake up to Leo fucking some random girl.” After a beat, he adds, “Is there a reason you stopped by?” His eyes drag down my thin tank top, denim miniskirt, and slippers. “In slippers andcurlers, might I add?”
Oh shit.
My hair.
My cheeks are on fire when he smiles and says, “Oh, did you think it wasmefucking someone in there? Is that why you rushed over here?”
“No, I thought I heard someone fall, so I wanted to make sure you guys were okay.” At the sound of his laughter, I know the jig is up. It’s pointless to try and get myself out of this one. “Okay, fine. Maybe I thought someone was in there with you, but it was stupid. You can have sex with whoever you want. I have no right to—”
“Care to join me?” He lifts the blunt with two fingers, rolling his eyes when my lips form a thin line. “It’s legal, Maya. Nothing’s going to happen if you smoke a joint with me in my car.”
Hanging out with Ethan has a lot more promise than going to whatever stupid party the girls upstairs convinced me to go to tonight.
