Chapter Three- Jaden

My stomach feels nauseated and bile rises up my throat. My head presses against the side of the toilet, and I curl up like a snake. The sad thing is that I don’t know if I’m sick because I’m so nervous or if it’s because I vomit regularly from my medication. I’m surprised I didn’t see death on the warning label.

She isn’t going to be there, I tell myself. She’s off to college in Florida—a long ways from Utah. Never to be heard from again … hopefully.

And yet a huge cloud of despair hangs over me.

I shouldn’t let my high-school experience ruin college, but I can’t stop myself from thinking what if? What if someone worse than Selena starts with me? What if my reputation has made it all the way to the university? What if I’m ostracized like before? I wouldn’t be surprised. It seems everyone knows about it. About my … past. My life. My issues.

A burning lump travels up my throat, and I dry heave into the toilet. God, how pathetic. I barley slept last night. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the distant sound of Cade snoring in the next room. What a way to start my first day of college ... tired and vomitting.

My hair falls around my face, and I try to keep it from sticking to the corner of my mouth. Another round starts, and I throw up my cereal from the night before. I should have known better than to eat that late.

Something bumps against the wall on the other side, and I hear a slew of cuss words shortly after.

It has to be Cade. God, what an arrogant jackhole. There was so much I wanted to say to him last night, but I kept my mouth shut. Like always. I know that wasn’t an accident yesterday. I appreciated it; Will is overbearing. But how does he know I didn’t want Will to flirt with me? I didn’t, but I could have.

Not every girl needs saving, though I'm not a good example of one, because I've needed saving most of my life. 

The door swings open before I can move, and I press my back against the tub. Cade stares down at me. He’s shirtless and his hair is a mess of tangles, like he just spent a long night in bed with someone.

After several seconds of silence, he asks, “Are you okay?”

He crouches down in front of me. “What’s wrong with you?” I watch his heavy eyebrows pull down in the middle. I want to press my finger against that worry line and smooth it out. I crawl up against the tub with my knees to my chin like a child.

“I’m just a little sick to my stomach. No big deal.” I go to stand, but my knees give out. Cade reaches forward and catches me, pulling me to his chest. He’s hard … everywhere. The lines in his muscles are defined, causing his tattoos to look like they’re about to bust open.

“Wow,” he whispers. Gently, he pulls my hair from my face. The touch burns underneath my skin, melting my bones into goo. “Have you been throwing up all night?” He’s too close. His hazel eyes are light, tracing over me like he wants to help but doesn’t know how.

“I’m fine,” I say, pulling away from him to stagger up. “I’m fine,” I say harsher than I mean to, tears burning my eyes. God, don’t you dare cry, you big baby. “Just nervous.”

He nods. “Okay, so why don’t you tell me what’s really wrong?”

“I’m sick.”

He narrows his eyes. “Obviously, but why? You’re nervous about what exactly?” He grabs his toothpaste and squeezes some onto his toothbrush before running it under the water and shoving it into his mouth. “School? You shouldn’t worry about it; it’ll be fine once you get in there,” he says around his toothbrush.

“Are you Dr. Phil?”

A smile forms around his toothbrush. “Ah, I didn’t expect such a pretty mouth to be so snappy.” His eyes explore me from the reflection in the mirror. He isn’t even trying to hide it.

With no shame, he drags his eyes back up to my own. When I catch a glimpse of myself, I nearly flee the room. I look like a feral child, with wild bedhead and a little dried vomit on the corner of my mouth. “You better get ready.” He turns and spits into the sink. “Will is up and ready to show you around.” He winks and leaves me sitting in the bathroom.

Jackhole.

***

After I take a shower, get dressed, brush my teeth and grab my books, I find Will standing in the kitchen, sucking down some orange juice. He’s what I would call a typical fraternity guy.

The button-down polo shirt hugs his chest, and his jeans hang low on his hips. He even has Dr. Martens on. His smile is always there because nothing ever goes wrong for him. Not a care in the world. I went to a prep school. It was full of guys just like Will. But maybe I’m a little judgemental and should give the guy a chance. No one ever gave me one, and I know how bad that sucks.

Tossing his glass in the sink, he turns to me. A dark blond strip of hair falls into his dark eyes, but he blows it back into place. “You ready to go to class?”

Not really. If Dad would let me have a car, I wouldn’t even have to worry about getting places. “Sure. Is—”

“Wait, you’re taking her to her class?” Adam asks from the bar, giving Will a death glare.

Will responds with an easy smile and pats my back. “Just helping her out. Since you didn’t offer. What a big brother you are, huh?”

Adam swallows and gives me another look. “I need to go, class starts in ten minutes.”

Will gestures toward me and gives Adam a pointed gaze.

“Whatever,” Adam mumbles.

Will drives a Lexus. I’m not surprised. Will has been Adam’s friend for a couple of years, and I hear his parents are loaded, too.

“So, what class do you have first?” he asks.

I pull my schedule from my History book. “Journalism.”

Will turns onto the university’s road and pulls into a parking lot. “That’s in the Fine Arts Center. It’s right over here.” He presses his finger against the map. “We’re here.” Then he runs his fingers over my own. I jerk my hand away and avoid his stare. Before he can make another move, I get out of the car. When I hear his door slam, I sigh to myself.

Will wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “So, what’s your major?” Really? That’s his line? Even the freshman know that one.

I try to shrug out of his hold, but he pulls me tighter. “Undecided.”

“You’ve got time, sweetheart. Plenty of time. This is it,” he says, gesturing toward the building in front of us as if I couldn’t have found it myself. “I’m on the other side of campus. You need me to show you the room?”

God, no. I slip from under his arm. “No, I can get it. Thanks, though. I’ll see you later.”

Biting his lip, he lets his eyes linger over me. “Sure, thing. If you need help after this class call me.” Will gestures for my phone and I reluctantly hand it over.

When he puts his number into my phone, he acts like he is going to put it back into my pocket for me, but I grab it out of his hand. Not happening.

He awkwardly laughs and starts back toward his car.

Adam is going to kill him. Then I turn and glance up at the stone-like building. I slip through a set of double doors. It reminds me of high school when I glance down the hall, but everyone is dressed slouchy. Like they just rolled out of bed. Most probably did.

Hugging my books to my chest, I stop in front of room 116. The door is wide open, with a few students already sitting down.

I take a huge gulp of air and walk in. Every set of eyes dart toward me and hold. Heat engulfs my cheeks. Lowering my head, I walk to the first row and slip into the second seat. I’m sitting next to a marker board, and all the seats around me are empty.

I take in everyone and everything while I pull out my notebook. Most are talking, no longer paying attention to me. A soft sigh escapes my lips. I can’t remember the last time I’ve sat in a classroom without being scared.

That’s when I hear her.

You can’t mistake that voice. Squeaky. Loud. Vindictive. Every piece of me burns with agony.

No. No, it’s a dream. A really, really bad dream.

My gaze lifts from my opened notebook and then I see her. She’s walking into the classroom, hands cupping her books to her chest. Her brown hair is down to her mid-shoulder. Her jeans—if you want to call them that—are low and tight to her slender waist. She’s walking with some guy who looks way older than us. Laughing, she throws her head back in that dramatic kind of way, but when she looks down her eyes meet mine.

Shock rolls over her. Like she didn’t make fun of me for not getting into another university. Like she wasn’t the reason. My grades dropped terribly my senior year, demolishing any chance of a scholarship.

Then a smile rises from the corner of her lips. Cupping her hand over her mouth, she whispers into her friend’s ear. He moves his head and looks right at me. Staring. Smiling. Laughing. At. Me.

No. Not again. A consuming memory bangs in my head, waiting to be released, to torment me. To bring me back to those miserable days …

***

“You look beautiful, Jaden,” Nancy said, running her hands over my shoulders. I smiled at her in the mirror. I look just like my mother, down to the dimple in my right cheek. Short, hippy, blonde hair. Green eyes. Just like her. My red graduation gown swung with each movement. I felt huge, but was so excited to be getting the hell out of school that I didn’t care. “Your mother would be proud of you,” she said.

The wrinkles around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. She took me in her arms and held me tight. She smelled like vanilla and Aussie hairspray. “You nervous?” she asked.

“No,” I lied.

Truth was, I was nervous. More nervous than I could ever remember. My shaky fingers clung to the edge of my cap as I slid it on my head. My curls hung low on my shoulders and framed my heart-shaped face. “I’m just ready to get this over with.”

Nancy giggled as she sat on the edge of my bed. “Come here, little girl,” she said, patting the seat next to her. Sliding onto my bed, I watched as she reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a small white box. “It was my mother’s. Since I don’t have any daughters, only those old boys, I figured I would give this to you.”

My fingers lingered against the box, tracing the red bow. For me? Tears coated my eyes. Nancy was like a mother to me, but knowing she feels it too made me smile. Dad was really good at buying me things, but he had never given me anything of my mother’s. He never even talked about her.

Sliding the bow to the side, I unwrapped until a small, delicate rose charm sat in the palm of my hand. The silver chain it was attached to dangled between my fingers. “Nancy, this is beautiful. Are you sure?”

She nodded and tilted my chin up. “You’re my daughter, sweetheart. Not by blood, but in here.”

She pointed toward my chest. She helped me put it on, and my fingers automatically clenched around the pendant.

Her finger traced my hand and stopped on my wrist. Her eyes met mine. “Are you doing better?” she asked, glancing down at the faded cut across the tender skin of my wrist. My blue veins made a spaghetti of lines underneath my skin.

Shame boiled inside of me. “Yes, I haven’t in a long time.” Lie.

She pressed her hands to my cheeks. Worry written all over her. “Get ready. We’re leaving in ten.”

***

The gymnasium parking lot overflowed with ritzy vehicles. Every pair of high heels and dress clothes I passed on my way to the entrance were designer.

Parents. Grandparents. Sisters and brothers. Every seat was filled when we started our walk toward our seats. I was positioned between two big football players, and I could barely see over their tree trunks of arms.

They started calling names, and my body began to burn with nerves. Craning my neck, I searched the crowd for my dad. I finally found him, texting on his phone, but my brother sat next to him, actually paying attention. Looking for me. When his eyes landed on mine, he stood and waved. I waved back.

When they got to the B’s my heart started to thump in my ears. The red and blue Mount Vermont Academy banners littered the gym, making it impossible not to think about Superman all the time.

“Jaden Lynn Baker.”

Is it my turn already? Standing up, I saw my entire row had already gone, and I hadn’t noticed. My legs felt like goo as I walked up the podium to accept my diploma. Our principal smiled down at me and gave me one strong jerk of a handshake. “Great job, Jaden. Good luck in the future!”

I smiled and turned my head so the photographer could take my picture.

Then I heard it. Plain as day. Echoing loudly through the gymnasium.

“Ho, sit down!”

The entire place fell dead silent. People’s faces blurred through my tears, their gowns a collage of red and blue. Every ounce of my being shriveled up into ash. My heartbeat jackhammered in my throat, making it hard for me to breathe. “Get her off stage!” someone else shouted. “Sit down, stupid whore!”

I didn’t need to see who that someone was because I would never forget her voice. The voice tormented me for an entire year. The voice started all the gossip. The voice turned all my friends against me. I stood, staring out at my classmates as they snickered. A blur of red and blue decorations disoriented me. My diploma dropped from my hands, and a sob broke from my lips. I ran out of the gym and away from that school.

***

“Jaden Baker!”

I jolt out of my daze. My hand automatically wraps around the rose necklace against my chest.

The professor is searching the room from over her glasses. When did she even get here? “Jaden Baker. Is there a Jaden Baker here?”

My arm shoots up. “Sorry. Yes, that’s me.”

And of course, not that I expected anything less, everyone turns to stare at me. The professor smiles and continues her way down her list.

My thoughts settle. A giggle echoes from the opposite side of the classroom. When I turn, Selena is facing me, staring me down like an animal. Why is she even here? She’s supposed to be in Florida. My throat has closed up, and my breath is getting hard to catch.

A red-haired girl sitting beside Selena turns to meet my gaze before her lips pull into a sneer. I’ve never met her in my entire life. Never seen her. But she’s turning around to face Selena, whispering into her ear now. They both erupt in laughter. “Definitely a slut. You have no idea,” Selena says. "Not that I'm slut shaming, but I mean, enough is enough, right?

Hiding my face with my hair, I stick my pen inside my notebook and close it. I wish I could curl up so tight I’d evaporate. Disappear. Go to some wonderland where people like Selena don't exist.

“Hey,” someone says beside me. I glance over at a boy who’s staring over at me. His popped collar is crisp, and I think he may have gone to my prep school. An easy smile on his face.

“You’re Jaden, right?”

“Yes.”

He gives me a huge toothy smile. “Want to hook up later? I’ve heard you’re down with that.”

Anger swarms my stomach, climbing its way up to strangle my throat. Swallowing, I push back the tears, grab my books, and jet out of the classroom.

I have no way to get home. My dad refused to give me my car back after the incident. So I’m stuck calling my brother. Straight to voicemail. Will is in class, and I don’t know anyone else.

Frustrated, I sling my bag higher on my shoulder and start toward our apartment. Tears slide down my cheeks, hanging onto my chin. I wipe them away with the back of my hand.

It takes thirty minutes to walk home. I’m missing my first day, but I can’t go back. What if I have more classes with her? I can’t even think straight. I can feel the tightness on my cheeks from the tear streaks. Pathetic.

I climb the stairs to our apartment and sigh once the door is opened and locked behind me. Silence greets me. Sliding down the door, I cradle my knees to my chest, tears soaking the knees of my jeans as I sob. One of those snotty, embarrassing cries.

“Are you okay?”

I lean backward and bump the back of my head against the door. Palming the spot, I lift my gaze to Cade’s. He’s leaning against the dining room table, staring at me. His black hair is standing straight up. A mechanic’s shirt situated tightly to his chest and arms. Matching black pants ride low on his hips. “Fine. Just … feeling sick again.”

He lifts a brow. “Really?”

Grinding my teeth together, with the door’s help, I stagger up until I’m leaning against the door. “Yes.”

“Why aren’t you in class?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why aren’t you?” I snap, grabbing my bag.

He grumbles, and I hate that my stomach tightens. “Because I have to work. I only have one class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Not that it’s your concern.”

“Well, then, you don’t need to worry about me either. Do you?” Tilting my head upwards, I walk past him. Callused fingers wrap around the curve of my elbow and pull me toward him.

“Did Will hurt you?” he asks softly. One finger gently, almost unnoticeably, makes a circle against the inside of my arm.

“No,” I say, stepping out of his warm grasp. Does he think he will? “No, it’s just …” I trail off. What am I going to say? That the evil witch of the north decided to come to my college? The college I was supposed to be able to attend without being bullied? The one escape I had is now gone. Evaporated into thin air.

“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie. Then I turn and race to my room like the little weak girl I've always been.