Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(6)

Now, I’m well into the first semester of sophomore year, and I still have done nothing with The List. I look down at it now, running my finger over the page, full of items like oral sex, orgasm denial, and bondage. The last item on the list, vaginal sex, has always remained the same. If I do this, that’ll be the biggest hurdle. The biggest show of trust.

I glance at Mia. “What if things get fucked up all over again?”

Mia raises an eyebrow. “If you keep waiting, you’ll just make excuses.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

“Well, you must be okay, if you’re quoting When Harry Met Sally.”

We smile at each other. Mia would rather watch almost anything than a romcom, but she indulges me from time to time. Even she can’t deny Nora Ephron’s talent.

“And if you didn’t actually want to do it, I wouldn’t push.” She gets up, tightening the towel underneath her arms, and picks up her razor. “But I know you do, Pen. You deserve to have sex. Or a relationship. Or both. But it won’t happen if you keep hiding in your room with Igor. Use The List.”

“I guess I should give up thinking I’m going to get a Bella Swan situation, huh?” I try to joke.

Mia’s face stays stone-cold serious. She’s been my best friend ever since the school assigned us to be roommates last year. Dad was nervous about me being in the dorms, but I had a good feeling about it, and it has paid off in spades. Mia’s more of a friend than the people I knew in high school ever were, even before everything went down with Preston. While sometimes I resent her honesty, usually I admire it. She says what she’s thinking, regardless of who she’s talking to or where she is. If we switched places, she’d go to a party, find a guy, and cross number one off The List within an hour.

“You deserve this,” she says. “Don’t let him keep ruining your life. He’s not worth it.”

I take a deep breath.

I can go around and around in circles forever, or I can try to break the pattern. I can keep letting Preston into my life, or I can bury his memory with new experiences. I glance back down at The List. The first item, Oral Sex (Receiving), stands out in my neat handwriting.

I started it to give myself some sense of control. But what’s the use of control if I never do anything with it? What’s the use of desire if I don’t honor my own?

One item at a time. One experience at a time. I can do this.

I nod, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. “Okay.”

She lurches forward and hugs me. “Okay?”

“Okay.” I take in a big, gulping breath. My heart is racing, and my body feels all tingly, but I feel good. Steadier already. I never want to be that girl again, splayed out on the ice, caught like a butterfly pinned underneath glass. Beautiful and broken. Scrutinized by everyone I knew. My entire school and half the town saw the birthmark I have next to my bellybutton, and whenever I think about that for more than half a second, I need to work hard at staying in the moment.

I’m sick of it being the end of the story. I’m not sixteen anymore. I’m an adult, and I deserve to be in control. The fantasies I have and the stories I write only go so far. Mia’s right. If I’m going to have the future I want, I need to take the risk.

I pull away from her embrace and sit up straighter. “I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

Mia gives me her biggest, rarest smile as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “You’re so badass. Think of it as research for your book.”

When she goes, shutting the door behind her, I dart off the bed and scoop Igor up. I don’t feel badass, but I definitely feel better, and that’s going to have to do for the moment. I need to clean him, and it’s not like I’m going to get off now, so I just shimmy into clothes and run a comb through my hair, then shove my laptop and chemistry notebook into my bag.

I check my phone for the time. I’d planned to go to The Purple Kettle early to write for a few minutes before Dad meets me for our weekly coffee date; since the semester kicked into gear, my half-written novel has been languishing on my laptop like a forgotten houseplant. Now, though, I’ll be lucky if I make it on time. Listening to him grouse about his hockey team will be a distraction, at least. I’m the reason he works here instead of Arizona State, and since going to the games gives me hives, this is the best I can do.





4





PENNY





I pick up my drinks from the counter and thank the barista, Will, who nods at me before moving on to the next patron. I don’t know all of Mia’s coworkers, but he’s one of the few she talks about without distaste. Usually, the boyish vibe bothers her—she prefers a partner whose hand won’t shake when it goes up her shirt—but I think he reminds her of her many siblings and cousins.

I take a fortifying sip of my drink, a pumpkin chai, as I walk out of the student center and into the chilly air. I might’ve grown up on the ice, being a former figure skater with a hockey coach for a father, but I still prefer the warmth to the cold. When I’m skating, at least my blood is pumping. Standing at the edge of the quad, looking at the maples with leaves just beginning to turn, means that the cold is running straight through my jacket.