Ruin

And again last year, at the hospital when my brother didn’t wake up from his… situation. Some people believe our family was cursed. After all, you can’t have as much power and money that we do and not suffer the consequences. When I was little, my Sunday School teacher told me that sometimes tragedy happened in order to keep us relying on God.

How much more trusting does God need me to be? I mean, I’d lost everything, and last year almost lost my reputation and football career, all because I said no. Fu

I gripped the phone in my hands. I had her number. How creepy was I? Seriously. I hacked the school system and pulled her number from it. The poor girl already thought I was stalking her, probably wouldn’t help my case if I suddenly called her up and said, “Hey.” Loser. I was an absolute loser. I’d never had trouble getting girls, in fact, I felt a bit gun shy after last year.

My entourage helped.

I only called them that because it made it sound so much cooler than it really was. A knock sounded on the door. I got up but it opened before I had a chance. David strolled in, all three hundred pounds of him, and threw my prescription on the table. “How’s it going?”

“Fantastic,” I lied, and quickly hid the piece of paper I’d written Kiersten’s number on.

“You feeling okay?” David leaned forward and pointed the flashlight in my eyes, like some sort of scientist. I slapped it away.

“Fine.” I cleared my throat and stood. For a brief moment I felt dizzy; that’s what I got for standing up too fast. “Where’s James?”

“Out.” David sighed as if he was tired of me asking a million questions. “He’ll be back to walk you to practice. You can walk, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “I can walk. It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”

“You stood up too fast,” he said to himself, then pulled out his notepad and wrote a few things down. “Have you been feeling dizzy lately? Out of breath?”

Hmm, did meeting a new girl that took my breath away count? How about being dizzy from her perfume? What would David have to say about that?

“My dad pays you to keep me sane, not nurse me.” I scowled.

David’s eyes narrowed. “You look pale.”

“Shit.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Can I please have one normal moment? Just one, where you aren’t scribbling on your damn notepad and we aren’t discussing my father or money or my future or—”

David held up his hand. “Got it. Sorry, Wes.”

I felt bad. But at the same time I was irritated all over again. I’d been on edge for months now, and I knew me snapping at David was just going to be another thing he documented when my father asked for his report.

He around the dorm. “Your room looks nice.”

“No small talk.” I laughed. “My room looks exactly how it’s supposed to, clean and approachable. I am an RA you know.”

“Yes, and I’m the queen,” David said dryly.

“Right.” I grabbed my keys and phone. “We’re going to a party tonight.”

“We?” His eyebrows lifted.

“Yes, we. You, James, and myself. I need to meet the rest of the students in my dorm and I can’t do that if I hole up in my room like some sick—” The words died in my throat. I bit down on my lower lip and allowed the dizziness to pass again. “I’m going to go work out.”

“Should you be—”

“It’s all I have,” I snapped again. “I’m not quitting football too, David. Write it down in your little notepad and tell that to my dad. My career is football. I’m too damn good to give it up. The only reason I stayed in college this long was to make everyone happy, but now that—” Again the words faded out. I didn’t want to finish the sentence, instead, I shook my head at David.

He seemed to understand. With a jerky nod, he followed me out of the room and into the elevator. I needed to sweat off the stress of the day, but mainly I needed to stop thinking about the girl with the pretty eyes and even prettier hair. It was long, almost to her waist, but so freaking thick that I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to thread my fingers through it.

She was the first girl I’d let touch me since Lorelei. Not that I’d actually let her touch me, more like she plowed into me. Nonetheless, I hadn’t flinched. Instead, I’d wanted more.

Clearly I’d wanted more, since I’d all but stalked her for the past few hours. Probably not the way to go about things.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. David and I walked out, and people stared, like really stared. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I wasn’t. I hated it. People always wanted something from me. Fu

The doors to the dorm opened.

A few girls held up cell phones, most likely to take pictures. I sighed. Freshman.

I gave a little wave and continued walking, just as James walked up by David and took my left side.

A few more girls giggled as they crossed paths with me. One appeared to faint.

This was my life.

Chapter Six

Into the fire — or maybe it’s out of the fire and into… wait, I don’t remember. Hell?

Kiersten

“You ready?” Lisa wiped some lip gloss from her mouth and checked herself out in the mirror. “Because I know I am.”

I laughed. “Yes, you are.” She had on a miniskirt, heels, and a short shirt. I’d never be caught dead wearing something like that. Uncle Jo would kill me. I would want to kill me. I mean, that’s how girls got into trouble.

“Okay.” She turned, a scowl on her face. “You can’t wear that.”

“What?” I looked down at my straight-leg jeans and boots, I had a white T-shirt on and my hair in a ponytail.

“It’s a party.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “I’m wearing clothes.”

“Yes.” Lisa’s tone was far from encouraging. “But you’re also not a nun, and right now you look like you’re homeschool.”

Homeschool? All the kids I knew that were homeschool were completely normal, crap I’d begged my uncle to homeschool me after everything. I looked down at my clothes and shrugged.

A heavy pounding assaulted the door and then Gabe burst through. “Damn, cousin, you aiming to get laid tonight?”

She smiled.

Gabe’s eyes fell to me. “And you’re dressed like a first grade teacher. Why?”

“Very fu

“Wasn’t kidding.” He mock-choked as his eyebrows danced suggestively.

With a sigh I turned back to Lisa. “This is the type of thing I wear. I don’t wear short skirts and belly tops and—”

“See, the very fact that you called this,” she pointed at her shirt, “A belly top, tells me one thing.”

“What?”

“You need help.”

Gabe nodded his agreement.

“Guys, I’m not Cinderella.”

Smirking, Gabe leaned in and murmured, “Drop your shoe, I dare you.”

“Ohhh, he wants to pick up your shoe.” Lisa joked.

“It’s a boot,” I clarified, lifting my foot to show off the shiny black leather.

“Either or.” Gabe gave a flirty shrug. “And clothes or no clothes, you’re still hot, but if I were you, and I had Weston–freaking-Michels panting after me, I’d make him work for it.”

“I, uh…” Playing with my long ponytail, I looked in the mirror. They were right. I looked Amish. I used to be into fashion, but lately things just seemed semi-pointless. At least I was eating and showering — not that Gabe and Lisa needed to know that. It was a giant feat for me to be able to take care of myself.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes “I’ll wear a different shirt, but that’s where I draw the line.”