lexy
baker
To Trenton, without your support this story would have never been written And to Owen, for being the best napper in the world
Chapter One Chelsea and Avery. That’s what the whiteboard on the door said. Only “Chelsea” had been wiped out and rewritten in large looping lettering and dotted with tiny stars. I stood in the hallway, grasping the handle of my bag like it might make a run for it. The room was small. No—tiny. Like it had once been a single and they’d converted it into a double. There was no way I was going to survive an entire eight months confined in there with another person. I was an only child. As I debated whether to cut and run, the bathroom door opened behind me, and a tall brunette wearing only skinny jeans and a black lacy bra passed into our room. “You’re super late.” “I’m Avery,” I said to her retreating back. “Yeah.” She didn’t spare a glance over her shoulder. “I know.” I followed her into the room. Definitely a converted single. The beds were maybe a foot apart and separated by a shared night table, which looked worse for wear after being jammed into the small space. Chelsea had already claimed the side of the room farthest from the door and above her bed was a huge framed photo of a ballerina bent forward in a typical ballet pose: arms out to the side and one leg stretched behind her. It took me a moment to realize the ballerina was Chelsea. She was long and lean with her dark hair tied tightly in a bun and in stark contrast to her white tutu and camisole. Her face was covered in makeup, her cheekbones severe, her eyebrows thick. On anyone else they would beg to
be waxed, but on her they somehow worked. She frowned at me with them now as she took me in. “Are you sure you’re supposed to be here?” she asked. “You look like you’re twelve.” Yeah, I got that a lot. Midsummer I’d tried the whole ombre look, bleaching my mousy hair blonder as it neared the tips, but I still barely cleared five feet and had baby fat on my cheeks. “I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks.” Chelsea sniffed “I’ve seen worse. The girls I danced with were skinnier than you and almost always bulimic. They never got caught, but they couldn’t hide the acne.” Wow, this girl was blunt bordering on sociopathic. Lucky me. “I’m nineteen.” The way she said it, I knew she’d assumed some sort of roommate superiority over me. “I took a year off to attend dance academy.” “Why didn’t you stay there?” “It was too competitive.” Turned-up nose sniff. “Besides, I want a career. I’m going to be a lawyer. So why are you so late getting here?” “I almost didn’t come at all.” I sat down on my bed. It was rock hard. “Did I miss anything?” “Only the Best. Party. Ever.” “Cool.” It was hard not to look at the photograph, which was as long as her bed and kind of encompassed my whole view. How had she even managed to get it in here?
“It was cray. All the freshmen in residence were there. Started in the Monet building and then moved to the pyramid, and campus cops had to kick us out. Too bad you missed it.” “Yeah.” “Do you party?” “Sometimes.” “Good. I don’t want a lame roommate.” Noticing where I was looking, she said, “That was The Nutcracker. I thought we should limit what we put on our walls to one item each. Otherwise the room will look crowded.” Tearing my gaze away, I said, “Don’t worry, I didn’t bring anything to put up.” “That’ll look weird too. You should get something at the poster sale. The bed comforters are mine, by the way. I bought a twin set so our beds would match.” Of course she had. Not for the first time, I mentally kicked myself for not taking advantage of my father’s generosity and upgrading to a single room. Chelsea’s cell tweeted and when she lunged for it, I turned my back on her to unpack. Even though her buying us matching purple comforters was presumptuous at best, I was secretly kind of glad—all I’d brought was clothes and sheets. That, and a framed photograph of Mom, which I placed on the night table beside the bed. My stomach twisted painfully. I used to joke that Mom got separation anxiety after six hours apart. I’d never worked a full shift without receiving at least one text message asking how I was doing. Then in an instant, my entire world had changed. Gone were the daily text messages. Gone were nights on the porch chatting after I arrived home from work. Her bedroom
looked the exact same as she’d left it: bed made, clothes neatly put away, cosmetic products cluttering the vanity. Wandering around the house, I could almost convince myself that she was out and would walk through the door any minute. For most of my life it had just been the two of us, so I was more than surprised when my father showed up to help. Dad was more like a figurehead father, a distant member of the family who swooped into my life every once in a while with a birthday gift or a visit while on a business trip, and his phone calls were inconsistent and infrequent. When he heard about Mom, however, he’d dropped everything to fly across the country to me. Over the three days I’d moved through life like a zombie, he’d helped me with funeral arrangements, tidied the house, bought me new clothes and even transferred enough money to my account to pay a year’s tuition. A month later, when I was about to give up my spot at college, he’d convinced me that holding off my life was the last thing Mom would have wanted. It was the closest I’d ever felt to him. There was a quick rap on the door frame, and I turned to see a curvy girl leaning against it, her hands shoved into the back pockets of her short jean shorts. She was stunning with a shiny black mane past her waist, wide eyes ringed heavily with liner and puffy red lips. “Oh hey, you must be Avery,” she said. “I’m Jin. Are you coming too?” “Um, to what?” I looked at Chelsea, who glanced up from her phone to roll her eyes. “Jin’s dragging me to this stupid games thing because our RA is going to be there.”
“RA?” “Resident Adviser. Every building has one.” “What exactly does a resident adviser do?” I asked, looking between them. “Make sure we don’t get into trouble or something?” Jin snorted. “Declan is trouble.” The two girls exchanged glances and giggled. “He planned these icebreaker games with the other RAs so we can all get to know each other,” Chelsea explained, “but Jin only wants to get to know him.” “Yeah, like you wouldn’t jump him if given the chance.” “I’ve seen hotter.” “I seriously doubt that.” I laughed. “Okay, I’ll come. I’ll just change into . . .” I pulled out a pair of workout shorts and held them up. Jin made a face. “I don’t think he meant running games. As in, sports.” Man, she was so wrong. When we arrived at the quad, an Ultimate Frisbee course had been set up and a group of guys were kicking around a soccer ball. A large sign written in colorful markers read Residence Hunger Games, and beside it stood a chart depicting a setup like a tournament. “I’m not running,” Chelsea said and tossed her hair over her shoulder. A loud screech had everyone covering his or her ears, and then an apology came over the loudspeaker. A female voice welcomed us and something about getting your name checked off the list if you haven’t already. I followed Chelsea and Jin past tents
with dorm names taped to their poles. Fire, Air, Earth and Water. Degas, Renoir, Manet and Monet. Raven, Eagle, Hawk and Crow. A large guy in front of me shifted, giving me a view inside the tent, and that’s when I saw him. I had to blink to make sure he was actually there. I’d never seen such a goodlooking person in the flesh before. I didn’t usually think guys my age were cute, but this one . . . he was something else. A blonde chick with a ponytail was leaning close to him in the booth and whispering in his ear. Standing there watching him throw his head back in laughter, I had the sensation I was on a movie set looking at Hollywood’s rather hopeful version of college guys. He had dark wavy hair that was slightly longer on top, eyes such a brilliant blue I could see them from here, and perfect straight teeth that he flashed when he grinned at the chick. And his grin was large and real and belonged in a magazine. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his arms above his head and his sweatshirt rode up, revealing a taut stomach. I had to consciously resist licking my lips. If he looked this good in a sweatshirt, what did he look like in a tight shirt, one that accentuated his biceps and chest? Or better yet . . . I was staring. He gave ponytail chick a high five and at that exact moment, a group of girls crowded in front of me. “Form two lines,” she was saying, “so we can hand out your jerseys.”
Every female was in hot guy’s line, including Jin and Chelsea. It was four times as long as ponytail chick’s line. Male students kept joining the short one, shaking their heads at the stupidity as they quickly grabbed a jersey and walked away. I decided to not be stupid and got in the short line. When I got to the front, however, blonde’s phone went off and she turned to him and said, “I’ve gotta take this. Can you manage both lines for a bit?” Then she took off. Hot guy lazily shifted toward me with his eyes on a piece of paper in front of him. On the table was a box filled with various colored jerseys. “What’s your name?” he asked, not looking up. “Avery.” “Hello, Avery. I need your last name.” Still not looking up. “Oh. Right.” I flushed. “Edwards. What are we playing?” “Capture the flag. Edwards . . .” He trailed a finger down the list. “Here you are. You’re in my building.” “Cool,” I managed to say, my voice cracking on the word. I flushed even darker. He glanced up then, looking at me for the first time, and a coal brow arched. For a second he just stared. Then he leaned over the table and looked me up and down. The side of his mouth tipped up. “I’ll put you on Team Blue.” “What team are you on?” I asked, suspecting I’d just been insulted. His smile tipped higher as he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. “The other one.” “But I’m in your building.”
“You’re a quick one. At least I hope you are—for your sake.” I glared at him and snatched the blue jersey. Jackass. He chuckled as I stormed away. “Catch you later.” Seething, I wandered around for a while until I found Chelsea and Jin under the shade of a tree sipping orange juice out of tiny cups. Jin frowned as she watched me approach. “Why are you in blue? I thought our building is on the red team.” “Because of that jerk.” Gritting my teeth, I motioned with my head at the gorgeous asshole under the tent. My face instantly heated when I saw he was watching. He gave me a wink. Jin giggled and took my arm in hers, steered me away. “Shh, that’s him. That’s Declan.” “That’s the guy you like? But he’s an ass.” “A hot ass.” A knowing smile broke out over Jin’s face as her eyes flicked to Chelsea and then back to me. “You missed a lot last night. We should show you.” “You’ll probably traumatize her,” Chelsea muttered. “She’s a virgin for sure.” Jin laughed and I did too, hoping I didn’t look as sick as I felt. Because my high school boyfriend was an asshole and our first time was only one of the bad memories I would carry for the rest of my life. In fact it was the start of something much worse between us. Jin steered me off the path behind some bushes and then pulled out her cell. After a quick glance left and right, she opened a video and passed it to me. The video was dark
and the hand filming it was shaky, so it was hard to see what was happening at first. It took me a moment to realize they were in a stairwell. I couldn’t see much of the girl, only her bare legs ending in heels wrapped around his waist and a thin hand in his hair. His body pretty much eclipsed her, a solid wall of rippling back muscles. His black T-shirt was tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. One hand was planted on the concrete above her head and the other was holding her up. He was . . . moving. My voice came out as a squeak. “This is our RA?” “Declan Hargrove.” “Wow.” I was torn between feeling embarrassed and intrigued. Also guilty, like we were invading a very private part of his life, which I guess we were. But I couldn’t look away. He was seriously hot, and from the back as well. And the woman seemed to be enjoying herself immensely—the sounds were evidence enough. My gaze traveled over the muscles in his back to the line of boxers above his jeans. It wasn’t until the video ended that I could breathe again. I quickly handed the phone back to Jin. “Yeah, that’s pretty much everyone’s reaction.” She grinned. “Everyone as in?” “Basically the whole campus,” Chelsea said, studying her nails. “Someone posted the video and it’s been spreading like wildfire.” The whole campus. I closed my eyes briefly and saw his naked back against my eyelids. “He must be mortified.”
“Not really. He doesn’t seem fazed by it at all. It’s like two seconds long. You can’t really see anything.” “And he looks sexy,” Jin pointed out. “I mean, really fuckable. Like I wish I were that girl.” I swallowed hard. I knew what she meant. The idea of him being caught on video should have revolted me, but instead it was having the opposite effect. “You can find the video on his fan page. ‘Declan’s Bitches.’ Seriously, he has a fan page. A student made it last year.” I instantly bristled at the name. “I’m surprised he wasn’t fired.” Chelsea shrugged. “It’s not good enough quality to prove anything, but we all know it’s him. If anything it just made him more popular.” “Who’s the girl?” “No one knows.” Well, that was a relief. Stupid move to have sex in a stairwell, but it wasn’t like she’d wanted to get filmed. No one deserved to have his or her private life sent around campus like some sort of social media phenomenon. “Declan left the party early that night and he was alone,” Jin continued, “so it could be anyone. Even one of his students.” How cliché. I snuck a glance at Declan again. He was sitting back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head talking to his buddies. The blonde chick was now perched on his lap.
There was a warning yell as a Frisbee came whipping through the air toward Chelsea. She squealed and jumped out of the way, and I slapped a hand down on either side of it. A tall tanned guy with gray eyes and disheveled blond curls came jogging up, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry about that. Good catch though.” “Thanks,” I said and handed it back to him. He was well over six feet tall and I had to crane my neck to look up at him. “I’m Jeremy. Jer.” “Avery.” He smiled and flipped the Frisbee between his hands as he spoke. “And where are you from, Avery?” “Spokane. You?” “Tampa, Florida. What brings you to Westport?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jin link her arm through Chelsea’s and pull her away. I widened my eyes to signal not to leave me, but she just grinned and kept walking. So I turned back to Jeremy, who really was cute. I just had no interest in meeting guys. “Just wanted to be close to the ocean,” I said lamely. “And I guess I swapped oceans.” He grinned, his teeth white against his tanned skin. “What building are you in?” “Bird complex. Raven.” “Awesome, me too.”
The microphone boomed suddenly, startling both of us and making us laugh. The voice came over the loudspeaker again and announced we should follow our RAs to the east side of campus. I said a quick good-bye to Jer and ducked into the now moving crowd to find Jin and Chelsea. At the edge of campus there was a field that ran into a small forest, the trees climbing the hill behind it. Declan lithely jumped onto a rock and his fellow RAs in blue sweatshirts gathered around him. “We’ll be playing capture the flag,” he announced, grinning out over the crowd. He looked completely at ease with himself, almost as if he enjoyed the attention. “I’m sure you’ve all played before, but in case you forget, the object of the game is to get the other team’s flag. Teams are Raven and Hawk versus Eagle and Crow. Raven and Hawk will go north, and Eagle and Crow will go south.” Jin pouted at me. “You should be with us.” I bit my lip, feeling stupid. “Pretty sure he looked at me and decided he didn’t want me on your team.” “You are pretty small,” Chelsea reminded me. Declan pulled another RA onto the rock beside him, held her around the waist to keep her up. Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she looked away from him to address the crowd. “We’ve set up boundaries with neon tape. The area in the middle is neutral. If you get tagged in the opposite team’s territory, you must go to jail. Teammates can free you from jail by tagging your hand. The team that captures the flag and brings it back to their own side first wins.”
“Each team has ten minutes to hide their flag,” Declan continued. “When you’ve hidden it, sound your horn. Once both horns have sounded, the game begins. Play nice everyone!” He grinned, his bright blue eyes falling on me. A horn blasted and nervous excitement filled the air. Then I was following the blue crowd into the south side of the forest. The RAs of Eagle and Crow had designated themselves leaders and were heading for the southernmost side of the forest where they planned to hide the flag on a branch low enough for the tiniest player to reach but where the leaves could provide some camouflage. Doubtful, considering it was neon orange, but whatever. “I’m Jewel and this is Matt. I’m RA of Eagle and Matt’s Crow. Who considers themselves fast runners? Put up your hands.” A smattering of hands went up, including mine. I was fast. And screw Declan for thinking I wasn’t good or fast enough to be on his team. I was going to capture that flag and wave it in his smug face. “You’ll be runners. Your job is to capture the flag and free the captives. Who wants to guard the jail?” The two largest guys and some girls put their hands up. None of them looked stoked about the idea of running. One guy was already sweating and a girl was wearing a tiny jean skirt. They then formulated a game plan involving offensive and defensive runners but I kind of zoned out, my only thought on getting that flag. I wasn’t even sure if they’d put me on the offensive, but that’s where I was going to be.
Matt sounded the horn to confirm that we’d hidden our flag. Half a minute later we heard the second horn, and the game was in play. I took off north, dodging between trees, jumping over roots of trees. The air was humid here. Cool. Trees shot skyward, tall and thick, and the smell of pine was in the air. When was the last time I’d been on a run? Before the start of summer. I’d missed this. I’d missed the wind whipping through my hair, the sensation of leaving the rest of the world behind. I tilted my head back slightly to gaze at the rolling clouds, and a memory jolted through me: hiking with my mother, a bear bell on my backpack and a dark cloud in the horizon. We ran down the mountain that day, afraid of getting caught in a thunderstorm. Mom grasping the back of my pack on a steep decline. I thought of lightning and electrocution, not bears. Behind me I heard a yell and then the thudding of distant footsteps on the forest floor. I ducked behind a fallen tree before two guys raced past not ten feet from me. That was too close. I was fast, but I wouldn’t be able to outrun a six-foot guy. I’d need to carefully make my way north, hiding when needed. When I felt it was safe again, I came out from behind the tree and started jogging. The forest was quiet except for the sound of my sneakers on the fallen pine needles and the squirrels rustling above me. I wasn’t entirely sure how I knew I was being followed, only that the air seemed to shift. I sensed it the way a deer might sense the barrel of a gun. Sucking in a breath, I gathered everything in me and ran at full speed. I leaped over fallen branches, twisted through trees, the wind beating in my ears. The footsteps behind me intensified and I knew my pursuer was running too. They grew closer, louder,
so I pushed harder, knowing in my gut it was futile, that it was only a matter of time before I gave in. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I could practically feel the fingers reaching behind me, mere inches away from my bare neck and still reaching, stretching, aching to tag me . . . Then my toe snagged a root, and I bailed. A heavy weight slammed into me and I hit the ground hard, my hip taking most of the impact, a larger body falling with me but miraculously not crushing me. “Shit!” Strong hands rolled me over. Sunlight streaming through the tops of the trees silhouetted the face above me. I tried to push up but a hand on my shoulder held me down. “Don’t move, Avery.” I tensed. It was a guy, and he knew me. Ignoring the warning, I moved my head slightly and my view shifted. Now I could see him, that dark hair across his forehead and those impossibly blue eyes filled with worry. Declan Hargrove was squatting beside me, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my left thigh. He was wearing the tight shirt I’d imagined and it did accentuate his biceps and chest. I was winded. It took me a moment to catch my breath enough to croak, “You’re heavy.” “Shit,” he repeated, thrusting a hand through his hair. “You tripped and I didn’t have time to stop. I tried to brace myself. Are you hurt?” “I don’t know yet,” I muttered, struggling to sit up.
“Seriously, don’t move.” His hands went to my shoulders, easing me back down. “Just take it easy for a minute. Catch your breath.” “I guess you were right,” I muttered. I felt my sore hip and winced. “I do suck at this.” He frowned as he knocked my hand away from my hip. “What’re you talking about?” “You didn’t want me on your team.” “Is that what you thought?” He grinned down at me. “The other team had less players so I needed to give them some. Besides,” his gaze moved to my mouth, his eyes darkening, “I wanted to catch you.” I inhaled harshly, my heartbeat ratcheting up a few levels. Declan was still looking at my lips. As he did so, his tongue licked his own bottom lip, wetting it. I stood up quickly, forcing him to sit back on his haunches. “Whoa, take it easy,” he said, standing to meet me. “I was on top of you a second ago.” I coughed in embarrassment and he chuckled. “Declan!” I pivoted to look in the direction of the voice and saw the girl from the booth approaching. She stopped in front of us, running on the spot with her ponytail bouncing. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” he said, “but Avery had a bad fall. I’ll walk her back to campus and make sure she’s not hurt.” “I’m not,” I said quickly. “Really.”
“I think we should take a break,” Declan said, giving me a look I didn’t understand. “I’ll buy you a coffee.” The girl’s mouth fell open. She quickly closed it, shooting me a deadly look before jogging back into the forest. “I’d rather keep playing,” I told Declan. His brows shot up like he hadn’t expected that response. “I’m your RA and I’m studying pre-med. It would be irresponsible of me to let you play again.” Now I was just annoyed. Sure, I wouldn’t exactly say I’d been having fun, but I wasn’t a cheater either. “Thank you for your recommendation, Doctor, but you don’t need to use me as an excuse to quit. What, is your team losing or something?” Declan’s jaw clenched but he shrugged, brushing dirt off his forearms where he’d braced his fall. “Fine, we can play by the rules. In that case I caught you . . .” He glanced up, his expression turning smug, “. . . which makes you my prisoner.” “Fine.” He reached for my arm but I shook it off. “I can go willingly. I’m not actually your prisoner.” Grinning, Declan headed into the trees, making idle chitchat the entire way like he didn’t care who heard us, which made sense considering he had immunity while escorting a prisoner. He didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t responding either. “Here you go,” he announced cheerfully as we arrived at the jail. Squirrellylooking students wearing blue jerseys stood as close to the edges of the circle as possible,
waiting for someone to tag and free them. Chelsea and Jin were acting as two of the guards, most likely happy to have a job that didn’t require running. “Take extra care of this one,” he told them with a wink. “She’s feisty.” Then he jogged back into the forest. Jin’s mouth fell open. “Was he flirting with you?” “He flirts with everyone,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. “He doesn’t even like her, remember? He put her on the opposite team.” I opened my mouth to explain what he’d said about wanting to catch me, but then realized how stupid it sounded. She’d just say he’d tricked me with a line.
It took me forever to escape—mostly because Chelsea was on me like a fat kid on a cupcake. Every time a team member rushed forward to save one of us, she was beside me, so I watched multiple people escape before I had my chance. It was when a group of people rushed the jail that I was finally able to go free. The rule was a thirty-second head start, so we took off into the forest, scattering quickly in case anyone bothered to follow us. There was a commotion a bit farther west, and I knew members of my team must have spotted the other team’s flag. It was only a matter of time now until ours was spotted too—if it hadn’t happened already. I cut west all the way to the boundary, hoping to come around the edge and end up north of the jail. The field sloped gently into a hill and I crouched through the long grass, low enough to stay hidden. From this vantage point on the hill I could see everyone else, but they couldn’t see me. It was perfect. The
rival flag was in a tree like ours, a bright yellow spot in the V of a low branch. I watched a member of my team make a run for it, only to have two people jump him, one on each side. Another girl tried it with the same result. A large group was hovering around the flag now, ready to pick off anyone who tried. But their numbers were dwindling—each person they caught had to be accompanied to jail. Jer emerged from the trees, joining the hoverers and scanning the trees for anyone that might make a break for it. I ducked lower. When I risked a peek over the grass, he was looking in the other direction. I crept closer and closer, moving behind trees until I was close enough that I could reach the flag when I had a chance. Then I crouched and waited, adrenaline pumping. Now I remembered why kids played tag—it was a rush. Maybe because I was determined to win. I just needed to wait for the perfect moment. Squatting in the long, dry grass, I waited. And waited. Then it came. In a matter of seconds all of the hoverers were occupied or leaving for jail besides Jer. Matt came barreling out of the trees with a war cry and Jer darted after him, hot on his trail. I seized the moment. Breaking into a sprint, I went at the flag from the opposite side. I didn’t look at Jer or Matt. I didn’t look at anything but the flag. As I drew closer and the guys did too, I saw multiple things in a matter of seconds. First I saw Matt reach for the flag. His fingers were mere inches away. Next I saw Jer reach for Matt, a determined look on his face. Third I saw Jer’s fingers grasp Matt’s shirt. His expression changed from determination to relief . . . and then his mouth literally fell open. I came to a stop in front of them, the flag in my hand.
For a second there was a shocked silence. Then Matt yanked free of Jer’s grip and yelled, “Run!” I ran. I thought I’d been running at top speed before, but this was different—this was desperation. I had the flag. I could win. I had to win. The trees blended together as I raced through them, aware of people on all sides of me, some getting closer, others getting in their way, all of them yelling. In a shitty and unjust world I would have tripped again, but I didn’t. I could see the neon line now. This was it. Five steps. Four steps. Three steps . . . Declan leaped into the middle of my path. I was a foot away from him and tilting full speed, but somehow I managed to duck and spin, stepping over the line just before his hand grazed my lower back. There was a loud cheer and then a guy lifted me onto his shoulders, yelling at the top of his lungs that the game was over. People emerged from the trees, half of them cheering and the other half looking flat out annoyed by the spectacle in front of them. I waved the flag over my head. As the guy spun us around, my eyes met Declan’s, and I couldn’t help it—my expression turned triumphant. He gave me a nod, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.