The Broken Hearts' Society of Suite 17C Page 2

  “I’m twenty-one. Not much older than you.”

  She’d been right. Their eyes locked and Rion lost her breath again. Damn him. “So you’re a senior.”

  “I might be,” he said, dipping his head, “if I was in school.”

  A buzz punctuated the air, sharp, mechanical, and loud. It must have been some weird kind of speaker feedback. “Can I just talk to Olivia?” she managed, pretending to look for something in her bag. It was empty except for a bare keychain and a tattered wallet, but she carried it for moments like this, when she had to look like she was important. When she had to get the idea across that she had something else to look forward to, something important to hold onto. “I don’t have all day,” she said, even though she actually did have all day.

  “Yeah, totally. Totally. I’m sorry.” The guy ambled around to the front of the desk and Rion walked to meet him. He reached out to shake her hand again, and Rion half smiled as she breathed in his scent—some citrus, something woodsy. Like the best things about guys’ cologne without the annoying heavy chemicals. ”I’m Crash,” he said. His eyes searched hers for a moment and he swallowed.

  Rion didn’t answer. She couldn’t. It was like her vocal cords, her movements, every thought she had, were paralyzed by what she saw hanging on the wall now that she’d moved closer into the store. Not only were there no guitars, amps, or mixing boards in plain sight, there was an entire wall in front of her stacked with bongs. Every color, size, shape and material you could imagine, right there waiting to be filled with some disgusting-ass dried leaves and then to ruin people’s lives.

  Desperately, she tried to smooth out the tremor in her voice. “What kind of studio is this?”

  “We do piercings, mostly. A few tattoos. That’s why I’m here.”

  “And that?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. Mom wouldn’t have sent her to place that sold marijuana paraphernalia, and probably had a hook up to the real thing out of its basement or something, willingly. Would she? “This is a head shop, isn’t it?”

  Was this how her life would always be? Intertwined with the technically, but not really quite, legal, because she wasn’t any better than that? Was she really just a piece of white trash shit who’d never amount to anything, like hundreds of other kids who left the foster care system?

  Nope. Not if she had any say in it. Mom had fucked her over once, and she’d survived. Still, a woman who drowned her sorrows in a bottle of cherry vodka and nearly killed herself and half a dozen other people because she felt like going for a drive afterward didn’t deserve Rion’s trust. She wasn’t going to survive by letting Mom fuck her over again.

  “Oh, that? I’m not sure about that side of the…hey! Where are you going? How are you going to interview?”

  She shook her head as the heavy glass door shut behind her. As she stalked back down Francis, she closed her eyes and tried hard not to think about Crash, his easy manner, and his incredible, inquisitive blue eyes.

  She wouldn’t be seeing any of them again.

  Arielle

  The quad of Indiana Northern buzzed with energy, but Arielle knew she was more excited than every other new student at this school combined. Soon, the nervous trembling in her limbs would stop, and the rest of her life would begin. Soon, she’d see Rachel for the first time in almost two months, and then every single day after that.

  Rachel and Arielle had been stealing kisses and whispering in ears and letting hands wander every time Rachel could make the two hour trip home to Indianapolis, which, lately, had been far less often than Arielle would like. That made the blow of getting waitlisted for Northern, where Rachel was starting her second year, that much worse, and the high of getting the letter that she’d been pulled off that waitlist that much more exciting.

  She’d found out three weeks before school started that she’d actually be attending, but tried to keep a sad face while Rachel stroked her hair before she left, told her it would be okay, that they’d see each other for the holidays. Rosh HaShanah wasn’t the most romantic of holidays for most people, but given that the two girls had first hooked up in the synagogue coat check room on that day a year ago, Rachel’s words were extra swoony.

  For the entire month of August, Arielle had kept the news to herself. She’d be going to Northern after all. They could finally, really, seriously be together—a normal couple. See each other every day, meet up for coffee, go on dates. And today would be the day it all started.

  “You ready to jump in there?” Amy asked in her soft, patient voice.

  Arielle had agreed to walk with her new roommate, just because it would have been weird if she’d refused to. The girl had an odd air about her, like she was made of lambs’ wool and bemused contentment, like life was a fairy tale unfolding around her and she was happy to be part of the ride. But she wiped down the sink every time she washed her hands and she’d been really sweet about letting Arielle choose which room in Harrison Suite 17C she wanted. (The one with the view of the quad, obviously.)

  “Yeah. I think the Greek life stuff is that way.”

  “Okay. I’m headed just over there. Church stuff,” Amy explained with a nervous smile.

  Arielle nodded, then craned her neck to find the group of tables representing different sorority houses on campus. Rachel had been pulled into one during informal Spring recruitment last year—something that started with “Delta.” Delta Pi…something? Arielle had grimaced when Rachel breathlessly told her about the whole process when she came home for Passover, but soon it became clear that Rachel loved sorority life. There was some invisible connection that lived in the Greek letters that Rachel seemed to have emblazoned on everything, something that Arielle just couldn’t grasp. But Arielle loved Rachel, so she would hang out at the sorority parties. No problem.

  A flash of long, shining chestnut hair caught Arielle’s eye, and her heart stuttered. It started up again when she heard the laugh. She’d know that laugh anywhere—the one that made her feel safe when she was uncertain and put her on top of the world when she was sad. The one that had helped her figure out her place in her messed up little corner of Indiana. Even though Rachel’s gorgeous smile was aimed at some guy as she handed him a flier, Arielle knew it as the same one that made her fall head over heels for this beautiful, ambitious, about-to-be-ecstatically-surprised girl. Arielle’s legs couldn’t carry her to the Delta Pi table fast enough.

  With every step Arielle took, the noise and hustle of the crowd melted into slow-motioned, muffled, meaningless activity. As the guy turned away from Rachel and kept walking along the quad path, Rachel’s eyes roamed over the crowd.

  Come on, look this way. I’m here. All you have to do is turn a little more…

  And then it happened. Their eyes locked, and Arielle’s heartbeat counted the fractions of seconds it took for Rachel’s eyes to go wide with happy surprise, for her smile to crook the corner of her mouth up and deepen the adorable one-sided dimple next to it.

  Their gazes connected with so much electricity that it nearly knocked Arielle off her feet. Rachel’s eyes flew open wide and Arielle’s steps quickened. She was almost there. Instead of the smile Arielle had waited for, Rachel’s total shock had made her jaw drop, and her feet cement to the ground. So Arielle closed the distance, standing on her tiptoes so she could fling her arms around Rachel’s neck.

  God, it felt so good to have her right here—real and warm and right here to touch. Rachel’s hands rested loosely on Arielle’s shoulder blades instead of gripping her in a hug—she must have been so surprised she’d lost her strength.

  It was only when Arielle buried her face in Rachel’s neck, breathing in the deep, flowery scent of her perfume and sighing at the slip of Rachel’s perfectly straightened hair against her cheek, and Rachel stiffened, that she realized something was wrong.

  Rachel didn’t laugh, or squeal, or cry, or kiss her. There wasn’t even a happy hug. Instead, Rachel dropped her arms and stepped back. And when she asked Arielle, �
�What are you doing here?” her tone was confused instead of happy.

  Arielle’s hands trembled as Rachel took another step away, still holding them loosely between her fingertips. Her intuition told her that this wasn’t shaping up to be the happy reunion she’d fantasized about.

  “Waitlist,” she said breathlessly, commanding herself to calm down. She had to give her a second. Rachel always did need a second to get used to new things. “I applied and I was waitlisted, and I never told you, because it was already hard enough, knowing we’d have to be apart. But I got the letter three weeks ago, and …” She couldn’t stand it any longer. Arielle stepped in, craving more contact.

  Rachel stepped back, then scanned her sorority’s table. ”Hannah? Okay if I duck out for a few minutes?” The girl stopped her conversation with a hulking guy carrying a football under his arm to nod and wave at Rachel. “Follow me,” she said to Arielle, dropping one of her hands and holding the other low by the pinkie and tugging her gently through the crowd.

  Less than a hundred feet away, a university building loomed over the quad, framed by pillars and arches that reminded Ari of something she’d see at Hogwarts. It wasn’t the reason she’d wanted to come to Northern, but it definitely didn’t hurt. Rachel dropped Arielle’s hand when they reached the gray stone stairs, and glanced back at her as she tugged the heavy wooded door open.

  The shining floor sent echoes to the roof with each of their footsteps in the empty entranceway. Rachel pivoted to turn into an equally empty hallway, then leaned against a wall to face Arielle.

  The tension in Arielle’s chest dissipated somewhat. She just wanted to go someplace private to make out. Arielle slid her hands over Rachel’s hips, pulling her up toward her. She just wanted to feel her again, just wanted Rachel to cup her jaw and stroke her lip with a thumb, the one thing that always totally undid her.

  But Rachel’s body stayed glued to the wall. Her fingers whispered against Arielle’s and she asked again with sad eyes, “What are you doing here?”

  Just like that, the tension returned. “I thought I would surprise you,” Arielle said softly, this time without a smile.

  A deep sigh blew through Rachel’s lips as she stood and again held Arielle’s fingertips loosely between her own. “At the Student Activities Fair? With all my friends there? While I was working the table?”

  “I knew for sure I would find you there.” Stinging tears began to prick at her eyes.

  “Listen,” Rachel said, trying and failing to look into Arielle’s eyes. God, this was getting worse by the millisecond. Arielle willed her body to stop shaking. “Things are different here at Northern. So different from back home.”

  “Yeah,” Arielle said, forcing a weak smile. “I know. You’re really busy, and you have a ton of extracurriculars, and I totally respect that. I swear. I’ll be the best college girlfriend. I’ll bring dinner to the house when you have to study late. I’ll bake cookies for all your sorority sisters, and they’ll all love me. And we can figure out which classes we can walk to together, and then on holidays we can drive home together. It’ll be …”

  “Impossible.” Anger flashed across Rachel’s face as she let the word out in a huff.

  It was just one word, but it had a hundred possible meanings. That didn’t change the fact that none of them made a bit of sense to Arielle. “What do you mean?”

  “Ari,” Rachel said softly. “We can’t be together. Back home? That was fun, that was messing around. Home is a holding pattern. This is real life.”

  “But I’m real. The way I feel about you is real.” Panic overloaded Arielle’s senses, letting her focus only on each individual word as it came out.

  “I’ve never told my sorority sisters about you,” Rachel said, staring at the floor. “They don’t know, and …” she blew out a breath and raised her eyes to Arielle’s. “And I don’t want them to. They’ve never let a gay girl in before, and…you know.”

  “But you are gay. And …”

  “No,” Rachel interrupted, her eyes hard. “You are gay. I am Rachel. I liked hooking up with you, yeah. I liked spending time with you. But that can’t be for the rest of my life. That’s not…that’s not who I want to be.”

  Rachel was lying to herself, and she didn’t even realize it. Arielle knew the look on Rachel’s face when she came, she knew the stroke of Rachel’s hand over her stomach. She knew the tone of the quiet conversations they had, fingers running through hair and lips pressed to throats. She knew the way her heart felt so full it might burst. That was love.

  “I love you,” Arielle said, calling every ounce of conviction to her words. “And you love me. You can’t possibly tell me you don’t. I didn’t imagine everything between us.”

  “You don’t love me, Ari.” Rachel kept staring at her feet and slowly lifted Arielle’s hands from her waist. “You love my pussy. And we did have fun together. But now…now we have to grow up.”

  Hadn’t they talked about building a life together? Hadn’t they mentioned “someday” in their delirious after-talks? “I don’t understand how your sorority sisters don’t know. You’re gorgeous. How did you get through a whole year going to parties with them and not dating any of these stupid frat guys without them asking you what the deal was?”

  Rachel’s eyes flicked to Arielle’s, then she covered them with both hands and slumped back against the wall. Ari staggered backward, the realization hitting her like a Hulk-punch to the stomach. “You did date someone, didn’t you?”

  She fixed her eyes on her shoes. “There were so many parties during rush, and I got invited to one. And then I really started to like him. A lot.”

  “Him?!?!” The pain of imagining Rachel with a guy threatened to completely undo Ari.

  “I’m sorry, Ari. I am. I thought …”

  “You thought what? Did you have any idea how much I loved you?”

  Rachel’s milk chocolate eyes went stormy “God, Ari, I don’t know. You just…you can’t blame me for making the decisions I did. Everything is different here. Our real lives are starting now. You’ll see. Everything will change for you, too.”

  A thousand thoughts whipped around Arielle’s head, none of them formed into anything coherent, none of them making any sense. After all, they came from senselessness. This was wrong, this was all wrong. Nothing would change for her, ever. She and Rachel belonged together. They were the same, from their obsession with perfect grades to their overbearing Jewish mothers. College was where they were supposed to grow into adults together. Indiana Northern was where their relationship was supposed to really start, not end.

  But the hard truth was that Rachel had already started to back away, toward the door. “I should get back,” she said, pointing a weak thumb at the quad. “The girls need me.” Arielle’s legs were the ones glued to the ground now.

  And then, just before she rounded the corner out of the hallway, “I’m sorry, Ari. I am. I…I’ll see you around, okay?”

  Arielle’s knees hit the floor and pain sliced through them. A sob ripped through her chest, and she swallowed it, forcing the tears to run silently, their only accompaniment the quick breaths that took hold of her lungs.

  Arielle’s life was over. She would never love anyone as much as she loved Rachel. It was impossible.

  Amy

  Amy’s small town, church-girl life had been seamlessly perfect until exactly two weeks ago. Which was why it was such a relief she was finally settled at Indiana Northern—it gave her the chance to forget about the single misstep she’d made back home and focus on the next four years of doing well in classes, cheering Adam on at every single football game, and planning for their life together once he’d either gone pro or earned his business degree. Or both.

  She was a lucky girl, and she knew it. Hardly anyone had the luck to be spending four years with the love of their life, to have a plan in place so that the sailing would be smooth the whole way. Yes, thinking about what had happened was still a bit fresh and painful, but Adam
’s words right after they’d found out—“We can get through anything, babe. I know we can,”—rang through her memory like a prayer. He was the only other person who knew about it, what it meant they had lost and gained at the same time. She believed him, because he was her future. He was all she’d ever really wanted, and he would make anything her heart desired happen for her. He’d promised.

  She hitched her purse over her shoulder and glanced at the framed picture on her desk one more time before heading out—she and Adam at prom, just three months ago. Everything about that day had been perfect—from the corsage to the DJ playing their song for the last dance, to the hotel room Adam had surprised her with afterward. Even though that was the night everything began to change, and so much was different now, at least their relationship would never show it. Amy’s phone buzzed against her palm, and she turned the screen out to see a message from Adam.

  Hey baby. Meet outside admissions at 5? I want us to have dinner.

  He was always thinking of her. Amy could barely keep the smile off her face as she turned toward the door, nearly walking head first into Arielle, one of her new roommates. The girls laughed, but Arielle’s excitement to get out the door was obvious.

  “You going to the Student Activities Fair?” Amy asked, scanning Arielle’s outfit. She dressed in trendy jeans and left a trail of just-showered scent with every move she made, even though Amy knew neither of them had ventured down to the showers yet. Compared to Amy’s small-town style, Arielle’s outfit looked like it had come straight off a runway. It made Amy regret not giving more thought to the way she dressed. She tugged at the hem of her cheer squad t-shirt and chanced a tentative smile at Arielle.

  Arielle nodded. “Yep. I’m going to surprise someone, actually. Doesn’t know I’m going here. Yet.” This girl’s smile was so full of joy that it lifted Amy’s heart.

  “Want to walk down together? I need to meet someone at admissions and I have no clue where that is.”