Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(10)

When we’re a block away, I twirl to face him. “Eric. Where did you come from? Did you follow me? Why did you do that?”

He flashes me that same astonished expression he had back when he did his Superman act before. “I just saved you from that man. He was feeling you up!”

My hands squeeze his as my words rush out, trying to make him understand. What he did was dangerous. And stupid. “I know it looked bad, but I had it under control. He wouldn’t have hurt me.”

His jaw tightens. “I saw him!”

I lick my lips. “Look, okay, yes, he is an awful person, b-but you don’t have a clue what you’ve gotten yourself involved in—” I stop and tremble, the terror dawning more and more. “H-he could have shot you. You could be dead and it would be all my fault!”

His brow wrinkles as his eyes hold mine. “Julia, no . . .”

“Don’t you understand? This is my life, and it’s messed up, and I can’t have any more people I’m responsible for. I can barely take care of myself. He won’t forget this, you know. I-I’ll have to face him sooner or later and pay for what happened.”

“Julia—”

“Connor doesn’t care who you are. He doesn’t care if you have money or that you play hockey.” My lashes flutter. “Eric, please. You can’t . . . you can’t be my knight in shining armor. Just. Don’t.”

“Julia!” he calls as I dash away.

“I’m not worth it” dances in my head as I flee, but I stop that line of thinking.

I am worth something and I can’t forget it.

Hitting the sidewalk on my street, I kick in what little energy I have left and hurry up the steps to the front door. I slam it behind me, shoving the deadbolt into place.

I sink to the floor and replay the scene in my head.

Eric slamming him down, Eric taking up for me.

My hands cover my face. God knows I’m so sick of weeping.

Of the knowing looks I get on campus.

Of the worry that gnaws at me like a dog with a bone. It never leaves.

I’m sick of this half-life, of being paralyzed with fear and anxiety as I push friends and emotions to the side. I’m just trying to be strong. To power through.

Why does each day seem like a battle just to stay alive?

I curl into a ball on the hardwood as I try to stop the tears, I really do, but they come, hot and wet against my cheeks. Perhaps I need this cry. It’s not like before at the park when I wept out of frustration. I need to let this doubt and uncertainty go. They rain down, a release from the adrenaline from a night that feels as if it lasted years.

My face presses against the cool floor as my shoulders shudder. A wounded sound comes from my throat as I try to keep it quiet.

I remember the shy young girl I was freshman year, the stars I had in my eyes.

The rose-colored glasses I wore.

Somedays I wake up and forget for a moment that I’m not her anymore.

Maybe the butterfly inside of me has already emerged and a storm has broken her wings.

What do I do now?





4





Eric





That’s the thanks I get?

She’s lucky I saw her when I went out for a jog. I needed to wear myself out so I could sleep. I noticed her from across the street, her face pale, her steps hurried as if someone were after her.

Most of all, I hated the slump in her shoulders.

It niggled. Pricked like a goddamn needle under my skin.

Yes, I followed her. Because I was worried.

And when I came around the corner and saw that guy with his hands on her, my body went from zero to kill.

It’s not hard to piece it together.

She was counting her money and crying for a reason. She owes him. But for what?

He’s a super bad guy, yeah, I get that, but what Julia doesn’t know is that I’ve been in this predicament before with someone else, even though I didn’t know until it was too late.

It cost me everything.

I keep picturing his hands on Julia, and my own tighten into fists as I walk back to the alley we came from.

The place is empty except for a yellow cat with matted fur. It licks its paw and watches me warily as I check between the trash cans. Dude is gone. There’s a light coming from the door at the top of the stairs, but I’m not going up there.

I look around for anywhere else Tons-of-Fun could be.

I’m about to leave when I see something glinting in the moonlight in the puddle at my feet. I stoop and pick it up.

A ring.

I came into things late, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t interrupting a marriage proposal. Slipping it into my pocket, I turn and start when I see him in front of a store with a sign that reads Fresh Set Laundry. His nose is bleeding and he holds a paper towel to it.

“Ha, the tough boy comes back. Surprise, surprise.”

The door opens and another guy walks out. He’s got tattoos on his neck and is short, but definitely has a look of someone that can handle himself in a fight. The new guy pulls up both sleeves and smiles as he assesses me.

I raise my hands in a placating manner. “Look. I don’t want any trouble. I just want to straighten this out. Obviously, I lost my head. What can I do to make it right?”

The big guy smooths his hair back. “Okay, college boy, how much you got?”