44
Colton
"Another box," Sable says, dropping it onto the growing collection on my desk. "Want me to open it?"
"Nope," I say. "I'll…find somewhere to donate them or something." I know what's in the box, and I know they're from Colton. They started appearing on my doorstep like clockwork every day starting a week ago when the semester started. Dildos with notes inside the boxes —
I know you think I'm a dick, but please let me explain.
Give a dick a chance. Please let me explain.
I dicked up and I'm sorry. Please let me explain.
Please let me explain. What explanation could there possibly be?
I stopped opening the packages after the first three. He's obviously a dick. Who the hell thinks that sending a girl dildos is an appropriate way to begin to apologize for something of this magnitude? Especially a girl you're trying to apologize to for bragging publicly about punching her V-card? Could he be any more tone deaf?
This kind of crap is exactly why not continuing something with Colton King is the right move.
He is a dick.
Dicks don't change.
Sable snorts, and the sound jerks me out of my thoughts. "You're going to donate dildos to the needy?" she asks. "I'm sure there are a bunch of dildo charity organizations to choose from."
"Whatever, I'll throw them away."
Sable puts one of the boxes under her arm. "I'm not letting a perfectly good dildo go to waste. Especially because I'm not getting any anymore."
"Sorry about that."
"It's not your fault, honey, so don't you dare apologize for it." Sable considers the box under her arm. "Better off single and horny than screwing an asshole."
"You should write fortune cookie fortunes," I suggest with a halfhearted smile. "Or a self-help book."
"I'm full of good advice," she agrees.
"You're full of something," I say. "Anyway, I have to go. Do I look okay? I have to go turn in my resignation to Coach Walker and then teach after that. It's only the second class. I can't fuck this up. I lucked out that Anne got mono."
One of the graduate students a year ahead of us got mono and had to take the fall semester off, which left Professor Richards with no teaching assistant. I was his first call, which was nothing short of a damn miracle, since I'd already typed up my resignation letter to give to Coach Walker. He left a message a few days ago on my voicemail asking if I was still teaching this semester. I felt I needed to suck it up and go quit in person, at the very least. Or in writing.
"Gorgeous, doll," Sable says. "I didn't really like Anne anyway."
"You're a bitch."
"An honest one," Sable corrects me. "You want moral support at the athletic center?"
I shake my head. "I'm fine. Totally humiliated, but what the fuck ever, right? What a bunch of stupid jocks have heard about me doesn't define me."
I sound far braver than I am.
Walking up the stairs and into the athletic center makes my stomach twist into knots. I won't see him. I won't see him. I won't see him. I chant it to myself in my head, over and over, like a mantra.
Coach Walker isn't in his office, which is honestly a relief. I can avoid an awkward conversation about why I'm resigning after only a summer.
I'm moving on.
That's what I'd planned to say. And that's honestly the truth, I think to myself as I slip the envelope under his door and turn to walk down the hallway.
Moving on, going to forget about Colton King.
I run straight into Creepy Guy — literally, as I round the corner. I jump away from him immediately.
This guy is the last person on earth I want to see, much less run into in a deserted hallway.
He grins at me, and I think it's supposed to be charming, except it's not. It's like a version of Colton's crooked cocky grin, except without the magic. I wonder if Colton is around here and the thought makes my heart race faster than it should.
The guy's face is bruised, dark purple on his cheekbone and his jaw. It looks like he has stitches in his forehead.
Colton got into a fight with him?
"You're not still tutoring, are you?" he asks, stepping in front of me, far too close to be comfortable. I step back, aware that if I go much farther I'm going to be against the wall. "Because I could use a little of the kind of help you gave Colton."
He puts his hand on the wall above my head, towering over me, and I consider whether or not I'm able to scoot to the side and get away from him. "Back the hell up," I warn.
Do I have that pepper spray in my bag or did I toss it in my desk drawer? Sable gave it to me, one of the many objects she possesses that can be used to assault people. She practically forced me to take it.