Page 1 of Allure

CHAPTER1

Oak Park University. It’s a beautiful campus with a ton of oak trees all over the place. Surprising, I know, considering the name. In the center of the campus is a sprawling park, and that’s the biggest reason why I chose this university over the other twenty-two that I visited.

My mom arranged for a guy to deliver my stuff to my room, and since the guy kept eyeing me in a way that I didn't appreciate, I opted to let him do his work while I left and am now walking around the park. There's even a swing set complete with monkey bars in the heart of the park, next to a fountain that looks like an oak tree.

Yeah, they have oaks everywhere. One every brochure and piece of literature that they hand out. On either side of the building names above the main entrances. A bit overkill, if you ask me.

There aren't too many other students wandering the park now. Only freshmen are moving in today. The rest of the students will be coming tomorrow. We're supposed to have a bunch of orientation stuff to attend later this afternoon, but I plan on skipping that. I can make friends later without the need for stupid icebreakers.

“Tell everyone your name, where you’re from, and your major.”

Yeah, as if that’s what really makes you tick. How about your biggest pet peeves? Although assholes will be sure to tease you mercilessly about that. Unless you lie… Hmm. I hate it when I order a pizza and you wit for it to arrive and you open the box to see that there’s hardly any cheese. Seriously, cheese should be its own separate food group.

Beyond the fountain and the swings are several picnic tables and mini grills. One of those tables has a stack of papers on it. No one seems to be manning the table, though, which is the only reason why I head on over and scan the flyers. All different kinds of clubs. The Oak Express is looking for new writers for the newspaper, although you have to be a sophomore or above to apply. A few art clubs, the theater group, sports… Interesting. There's a karate dojo nearby. Judging by the address, I think it's only a fifteen-minute walk from campus. Rumble Dojo. Not sure I care for the name, but I can't deny that I have plenty of aggression at times. If I hadn't walked away from that guy who's moving my stuff in, I probably would've decked him. Or given him a purple nurple. Or a knee to the balls because some of the remarks he was making? Wholly inappropriate. Wanting to know if I was eighteen yet, if I had ever been with a man, not a boy, if I was comfortable having sex while on my period because I couldn’t possibly get pregnant then, did I know that?

Like, what the fuck, dude. You're almost thirty. I don't mind dating a guy who is a few years older than I am. Okay, so once I was with a guy who was ten years older than I was. Fifteen to twenty-five, but that had been a mistake. Just like every other guy I've fallen for. I have this seriously terrible knack for falling for guys who are no good for me, but at least I don't actually date any of them. Saves me from heartache even if I am a little messed up in the head some.

Aren’t we all fucked up one way or another? No one is perfect, and I really do believe that normal is just a setting on a dryer.

By now, Inappropriate Commenter should be done moving in my stuff. If not… Well, let’s just say he better be done.

I head back toward Orchard House, the female dormitory for freshmen. The one major drawback about Oak Park University is that the freshmen dorms are not coed. Once you’re a sophomore, you can go into a coed dorm. Like having the freshmen girls and guys are going to stop us from having sex if that’s what we want. This isn’t the Puritans. We aren’t Quakers, and I’m sure most of the freshmen aren’t virgins.

Whether or not I am isn’t something I’m willing to share.

As I enter the building, Inappropriate Commenter is walking my way. He grins at me, leering at my top. It’s not like it’s that lowcut. I’m wearing short shorts because it’s in the low nineties and a tank top. Nothing overly sexy, but he makes me feel like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat.

“Everything’s up in your room for you,” he says. “I just brought up the last of it, but if you want me to help you make your bed… if you want me to help break it in for you…”

“If you want me to not knee you in the balls, I suggest you get going,” I say sweetly.

His features contort with rage. “What the hell? You stupid cunt, if you don’t give me a tip—”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t tell my mom about how you wanted to shove your cock inside me the entire time instead of doing your job. Now get the hell out of my face.”

Muttering under his breath and shooting me glowers that make me glad looks can’t kill, he marches out of there. I don’t move from the spot until I spy him climb into his truck and drive off.

Good riddance, asshole.

I head over to the stairs since the line for the elevator is long. My room is 243, so I only have to climb one flight anyhow. Boxes are all over the place, but there's nothing on the bed except for my sheets. Wait, he did open the box labeled bedding. That fucker really did want to try to convince me to spread my legs for him.

Not a chance, bud.

I get to work unpacking my clothes and putting them on hangers. I pick the closet closest to the door as well as the desk right there too. Inappropriate Commenter put my bedding on the bottom bunk, but I have no preference.

I’ve gotten all of my clothes either hanging up in half of the closet or else tucked in my drawers and have started to put away my shoes when the door opens. In walks in a lovely girl with large dark brown eyes and wavy dark hair. Her complexion is a perfect golden hue that makes me pea green with envy. She’s maybe a little overweight, but her smile is charming.

“Hi, I’m Dawn Melton,” she says, shifting the box in her arms so she can shake my hand. “You must be—”

“Brooke Adams, your roommate.” I take her box from her. “Which bed do you want?”

“The bottom, if that’s all right,” she says shyly. “I know it’s stupid, but I am terrified of heights. Even short ones like the top bunk.”

“No worries,” I assure her, placing the box next to my bedding, which I then grab and toss onto the top bunk. “I didn’t care one way or the other.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, because I’m heartless and will force the girl who has a height phobia to be on the top bunk.” I make a face.

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