“Page thirty-two,” she said, holding up a small red book. I wanted to slide down into my seat and never show my face again. Gabby nudged me and slid her book in the middle of us. I thanked her with my eyes.
After class ended, I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulders, needing to get to math next.
“How many classes do you have today?” Gabby asked.
“Three.”
“Do you want meet for coffee after your last class?” she asked as she readjusted her glasses.
“That would be great, actually.”
“What’s your number?” she asked, pulling a sleek black phone from her back pocket.
“Oh. I just broke mine…I have to get a new one,” I told her. I couldn’t risk putting her number in. Or using it if I didn’t absolutely have to. If he were to ever find me, I would be dead.
“Let’s meet at the coffee shop by the dorms at three?”
“See you then,” I said, waving as I left the classroom.
My other two classes went the same way. My professors ranged from frantic, to witty, and even political. I had never heard anyone in Texas share the same opinions as my history professor, but I leaned over my desk and held on to every word he spoke when he veered off into a rant. I loved every minute of it.
Ten minutes before three, I was searching the walkway for a coffee shop. A small, tan building came into view as I passed a shade tree, peppered with multi-colored leaves. Gabby was sitting at a table outside, books stacked in front of her as well as two cups.
“I hope you like caramel mocha,” Gabby said, shoving a cup in my direction.
“Absolutely. Thank you,” I said as I sat across from her. The truth was I had never tried it. I ran on black coffee at the café when I needed caffeine. Expensive drinks were a luxury I couldn’t afford.
“How was your first day?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink. The aroma filled my nose, and without trying it I knew I loved it.
“Great. I loved my history professor. I think this semester should be easy,” I said, trying the drink for the first time. I let out a moan, thankful she’d introduced me to this drink.
“Who’s your professor?”
“Sterling.”
“That’s him! I took him over summer break,” she said, eyes gleaming when she spoke of him.
“Is this your second year?”
“First. I just took a couple classes over the summer. I grew up in this area,” she said, shrugging her tiny shoulders. “What about you?”
“My first semester. I’m from Texas…” I started, but she cut me off. Her eyes were wide and wild as she held up her hand.
“Oh my god, Autumn. There’s a guy staring at you.”
“He’s probably looking at something else,” I said, laughing once. How could anyone possibly know me well enough to stare at the back of my head? I froze. Unless…
She leaned in, intrigued. “No, it’s definitely you. We went to the same high school. He was two years older, but I remember going to baseball games just to see his ass in those pants. Actually, all of their asses.”
I covered my mouth, containing my laughter. “Who is it?”
“Liam Shafer.”
My eyes widened. “He was in my dorm last night.”
“You’ve already hooked up with him? In one day? Can you hook me up with his friends?” She laughed.
“No! Oh my god! Not like that. He was staying with my roommate!”
She nodded knowingly. “After he messed his shoulder up, he kind of became a whore.”
“Note to self: I’m staying away,” I said.
I couldn’t help it. I turned, finding him leaving the small shop with a cup in his hand. He was wearing the same style of clothes he was in last night and was surrounded by guys. He looked at me once, his expression unchanging, and then he walked off.
“Yeah, I think he was looking at something else,” I said, but Gabby didn’t look convinced. It was like he had never seen my face before.
The look wasn’t anything I wasn’t already used to. Everyone either pretended I didn’t exist all together, or they made fun of me. I was accustomed to it. I thought Washington would be different; I’d already made friends after all. But one of them just made me want to sink back into my old life and cower.
Four
I tried to pick up a chick at a bus stop, and then unintentionally followed her to her dorm. I looked at her schedule and tried to find her on social media. She just drifted out of nowhere and blew me off.
If that’s not rock bottom, I don’t know what the hell is. I told myself no girls, no drinking, and no fun until I get my shit figured out. Coach said I could still play outfield, but I won’t be able the pitch again. Truth was, I was over the shit. Baseball gave me a fun run, but I wasn’t doing it for the rest of my life. The day I told the coach, he looked at me disappointedly and hadn’t spoken a word to me since that day.
One day after the wreck, I was doing a charity for big brother’s baseball and it hit me, there are kids out here who needed someone like me. Patient and understanding. I’d been where they are. Miserable, only doing something to make my father happy. Without telling a soul, my focus changed. Sometimes I blamed it on baseball, but I knew I wanted to get my shit together to help.
I looked across the desk, bored. The ambitious young advisor was blushing as she scrolled through classes. I used to love this, but it has grown old. Because my face was symmetrical and I watched what I put in my body, somehow, I was
