Page 23 of Fall From Grace
Look who’s touchy now.
“You any good, or do you just use the guitars to get into girls’ pants?” Either way, I don’t care, but now that I know it’s not something he wants to talk about, it gives me some ammunition against him. Helps level the playing field.
“That’s none of your goddamned business,” he mutters, and I actually think he’s going to stand up and choose another seat, but it’s too late for that. The clock metaphorically chimes, and class begins.
And just like that, it becomes easy to pay attention to Professor Scott, easy to ignore the brooding, upset guy to my left. With any luck, this means he won’t sit by me again… although, if I’m honest, the visceral reaction, the sudden change in his demeanor, it makes me wonder just why he’s so upset at the mention of his guitars.
Later that day, Sloane gets pizza delivered. The three of us eat in the living room, watching some silly show none of us really care about. Elias sits in the corner of the couch, next to Sloane, while I take the cushion the furthest away from them.
Turns out, having a roomie loaded with money means I rarely have to buy food. Definitely a plus.
Sloane, with a mouthful of pizza, says to me, “You’ve been quiet all week.”
I shrug as I pick at the peperoni on the pizza. I’m a cheese person. The peperoni I could take or leave, but one thing I draw the line at is when the pizza places overcook the peperoni, so they end up all shriveled and blackened and charred. Gross.
“Something bothering you?” she asks.
Beside her, Elias huffs, “If she doesn’t want to talk, let her not talk. She’s probably just a quiet person.” He’s not wrong. I’m not somebody who likes to talk just to hear her own voice.
Now, singing? That used to be a different story. I’d belt out songs any chance I could. It started when I was younger. When I got home from school, I had the house to myself for a few hours, before my mom came home with my sister from daycare after work. I’d do my homework, and then I’d pretend the living room was a stage and the judges sat on the couch. I pretended to audition forAmerican IdolandThe Voice, rotating my songs and mentally chiding myself when I missed a note or my voice fell flat.
Now? My will to sing is gone. Dead. I don’t think I’ve even listened to any music since discovering the two most important people in my life going behind my back.
Still, even though we aren’t besties or anything, Sloane and Elias are pretty much the only people I have. Might as well just tell them.
“Remember that guy I left the club with last week? He’s in my psych class. I thought I’d never have to see him again. It’s what I wanted, but now he’s…” I sigh.
“Oh, yeah. You said you have Professor Scott, right?” Sloane smirks. “He’s cute.” The moment those words leave her lips, Elias gives her the deadliest expression known to mankind, but it only makes her laugh. “Simmer down. I’m just saying, at least she has someone else she can focus on if she wants to ignore Mr. Club.”
“Mr. Club’s name is Logan,” I mutter, “and he’s making it impossible to ignore him.”
“Hmm. At least your professor’s hot.”
Elias prickles, his jealousy evident. “Which is it? Cute or hot?”
Sloane grins at her boyfriend. “Why does it matter?”
“Cute is whatever. Cute’s a fucking puppy dog. Hot is the kind of guy you’d want railing you, so which is it?”
She playfully slaps his cheek and says, “Don’t worry. You’re the only hot guy I wantrailing me.” She tosses an amused glance my way. “Now, Wren, on the other hand…”
My cheeks heat up. If I’m understanding what she’s inferring, then—then I’d rather not finish that thought. “Professor Scott is, um, nice to look at, but I don’t really want to imagine doing anything like that with him. Logan was enough. I learned my lesson.”
“There’s no lesson,” Sloane says. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do things like that. We’re all adults here. Wedon’t judge.” She licks her lower lip and leans into Elias. “Elias and me, nobody wanted us to be together, but here we are, a year and a half later.”
“Why didn’t anyone want you two to date?” I ask, curious. Elias seems intense most of the time, maybe a teeny-weeny bit toxic, but Sloane doesn’t seem to mind it one bit. Birds of a feather, I guess.
Elias and Sloane share a meaningful look, and all my roomie says is, “That’s a story for another day. Don’t want to scare you off yet.” She says that good-naturedly, but I detect an underlying hint of truth to it. Whatever it is, whatever reason everyone thought she and Elias shouldn’t be together, is serious, and to me, it is unnerving.
Sloane goes on, “You know, the perfect way to not let Logan get under your skin is to get under someone else.”
“That’s what you said about my ex,” I say.
“And it worked, didn’t it?” When I give her a look, she chuckles. “Maybe not, but you had fun, didn’t you? At least in the moment, you forgot about your ex, so why not try it again? I wouldn’t know, but I assume there are multiple flavors of dick you could try out around here.”
With a grunt, Elias shakes his head. “Don’t know if you’re the best person to give advice about anything.”
“Whatever. Do or don’t, but you should move on from that rotten ex of yours. It’s not healthy to wallow so much.” That much, at least, is probably true. “Think about it. The three of us could go out this weekend. There’s got to be some frat party we could crash.”
