Read My Sweetest Escape Online
Authors: Chelsea M. Cameron
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General
watching me like a hawk.
It was something to think about.
Soonish. Soon everyone was home and the
dinner-making commenced. It was Renee
and Paul’s turn and they opted for pasta
again, since they could make a ton of it and
different sauces and satisfy everyone. I
lurked in the kitchen, feeling crappy about
the conversation I’d had the night before
with Renee. I was pretending to work on my
homework for the next day, but I couldn’t
focus on it.
She was busy informing Paul the correct
way to cook pasta, and he was taking it in
stride. He was a saint, I swear.
I couldn’t understand why he put up
with her, except that he must really love
her this time.
“My God, Paul, it’s not rocket science,
which you happen to know.”
“I’m not a rocket scientist,” he said,
leaning back and giving me a look.
“Clearly not,” she snapped.
“I’m going to go…be somewhere else,”
he said, heading for the living room, where
the rest of Yellowfield House was engaged
in homework warfare. Renee put her hand
on her head as if she had a headache when
he left.
“I swear, he gets on my last nerve
sometimes.” She turned off the pasta pot
and leaned back against the counter. “It’s a
lot, you know? Living together.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, definitely not. It’s just…sometimes I
wonder if we moved too fast. Getting back
together and then the house and
everything. But that’s none of your
business. I’m fine. How was school today?”
My mother had never been the one to ask
me that when I got home every day. It was
always Renee who wanted to know about
my assignments and so forth.
“It’s fine. Pretty much the same.”
“Are you still okay with your major?”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
She shook her head as if she couldn’t
believe what I was saying.
“I never thought you would say that. I
remember when we were kids and you
snuck out of bed to watch the election
results. I used to think you were a robot, or
that there was at least something seriously
wrong with you.”
Yeah, I remembered that little girl. She’d
grown up, and now she was gone.
“Pasta’s getting cold,” I said, using my
pen to point at the large pot. Renee seemed
to snap herself back into place and
remember that she was in the middle of
making dinner. She went back to the sink
and drained the pasta as I took my
unfinished homework downstairs. I’d deal
with it later. I had at least done the reading
and made notes for Pam’s class. No way I
was looking like a moron in that class.
Dinner was pretty quiet. Darah was at
work, so there was one less member, and it
felt weird to not have her there, getting on
everyone about putting their elbows on the
table and using napkins and not damaging
the finish on the table.
Renee and Paul seemed to be okay
again. I caught him whispering in her ear
and giving her a hug. He always knew the
right things to say to her. Most often, the
best thing to do with Renee was to make
her think she’d gotten her way and give her
some space to realize that she didn’t know
everything. She’d come around and
apologize and promise never to do it again,
even though she’d do it again in two hours.
“At the risk of sounding like I’m asking
you out, do you want to come to this thing
I’m going to this weekend?” I said to
Hannah before class the next day.
“What kind of thing?”
“One of the guys I live with is in the
Steiners and they’re doing a show at the
Union and everyone in my house is going.”
“Wow, you know one of the Steiners?
It’s crazy hard to get into. Plus, guys who
can sing are super hot.”
“He is pretty hot, but he’s taken.”
She sighed and got out her bag of
Skittles. She must have a case of them in
her dorm room or something. “The good
ones usually are.”
“Still, you could meet my pseudo family.
If you wanted to.”
“Sure, why not? Beats sitting in my dorm
room and watching a bunch of episodes of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
”
“I’ve never seen that show,” I admitted.
It never really appealed to me when it was
originally on.
She shook her head sadly. “I’ll make you
a deal. I’ll come to see the Steiners with you
if you come and hang out and watch two
episodes of Buffy with me on Sunday.”
Renee would be pissed if I said yes
without asking permission.
“Deal,” I said, holding out my hand.
Pam called the class to order and I
snapped my head forward. She called roll
and seemed pleased that I was still here.
And of course I was the first one she
called on, but I was freaking ready. She fired
questions around the room like Ping-Pong
balls and you had to think fast. Hannah got
a few tough ones, but she volleyed with the
best of them. Pam seemed satisfied with
both of our answers, and I was glad I’d
survived by the end of it.
“Bravo, girl. You did good.” We didn’t
talk about getting lunch—we just sort of
walked toward the Union anyway. I heard a
girl walk by and gasp when she saw
Hannah’s face.
“Take a picture. It lasts longer, bitch,”
she said under her breath. “I know I seem
all Zen about this.” She waved her hand to
indicate her burn. “But sometimes, I just
want to wear a fucking mask or scream at
people or something. I mean, at least in the
olden days I could have joined a freak show
and made some money or something.”
Wow.
She yanked open the door and didn’t
hold it for the person coming in behind us,
who muttered under his breath.
“Suck it,” Hannah said in response, but
not loud enough for him to hear.
We got our food and found a table.
“It’s just like, yes, I have a burn, but it’s
not like I’m dis-abled or mentally
challenged. Also, I’m not deaf. I can hear it
when people are talking about me, and it
pisses me off.
But you know what would happen if I
freaked out and yelled at people? Fucking
nothing. So why waste the words?” She
exhaled slowly. “Okay, I’m done. Pity party
over. I’ve shut it down.” She made a
slashing motion with her hand.
“Keep going if you need to. It doesn’t
bother me.” At least she had something to
actually be pissed about. Unlike some
people who couldn’t breathe without
bitching about something that didn’t need
to be bitched about.
“Nah, I hate going to that place. It just
gets me down sometimes, but I swear, I’m
back.” She smiled and picked up her burger.
“So none of the guys you live with are
single?”
“Nope. Not one. There are three
couples…and me. It’s a bit like living in a
weird reality show.”
“It sounds kind of awesome, not going
to lie.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Sensing my reluctance, Hannah switched
subjects.
“So, you found any man candy?”
“Not if you count my other stalker,” I
said, picking up a French fry I’d dropped on
the floor.
“Um, details?” She snapped her fingers.
“It’s not even anything worth talking
about. He’s just this guy who keeps popping
up. He’s friends with one of my roommates.
Actually, you’ll get to see him on Saturday.
He’s a Steiner.”
“Oh, really?” She raised and lowered her
eyebrows suggestively. Wow, she was
reading way too much into this.
“It’s seriously not like that. It’s not
anything. I shouldn’t have even brought him
up.” Why had I brought him up?
“What about at UNH? Did you have a
guy there?”
Oh, fun. The ex talk. “Yeah, I did. We
broke up this spring.”
Hannah’s eyes lit up.
“Sounds like there is a story there.”
There was, but I wasn’t going to share it
with her.
“Not really. He was in love with a girl I
wasn’t. Took both of us a while to realize it,
but eventually he did.”
“Did you love him?”
“Yeah, I did.” I couldn’t lie about that. I
had loved Matt, but that love was part of
that other girl, and when I let go of her, I let
go of that love. It was easier than it should
have been. “And what about you? How
about we talk about your love life?”
Hannah laughed.
“Yeah, that’s a really short story. It can
be summed up like this…” She held up her
hand, making a circle. She peered at me
through the hole in the middle. “That’s it.
There aren’t a whole lot of guys lining up to
fuck the freak.”
Jesus, she was blunt. I liked it.
“I usually have to get them good and
drunk first, but by then they usually can’t
perform, so I end up leaving them to sleep
it off.”
Was she serious?
She burst out laughing.
“I am totally screwing with you, and the
look on your face was totally worth it. I
haven’t really done the boyfriend thing.”
“Ever?”
“I spent my high school prom at home
with my cat, so that pretty much gives you
an accurate picture of my dating history. I’m
not bitter about it—don’t get me wrong. I
guess I’m just old-fashioned, at least when
it comes to that. I don’t want to waste my
time on a guy that I’m not going to spend
my life with, you know? I don’t see the
point in dating a bunch of losers just for the
chance of finding out one of them might be
decent. I trust my instincts when it comes
to people. Haven’t been wrong yet.” She
winked at me and stole a fry from my plate
and popped it into her mouth.
I wished I had her confidence in my own
instincts. Right now, I didn’t trust them at
all.
“Brought you something.”
Dusty was standing in the lobby of
Neville Hall when I opened the door to go to
English that afternoon. He had his
trademark smile in place and a bag of
Skittles in one hand and a bag of M&M’s in
the other and was holding them out to me
like he was very pleased with himself.
“Okay,” I said, looking at him and then
back down at the candy. I really wanted it,
but I didn’t want him to know that I wanted
it.
“I’m going to pretend you said thank
you. You’re welcome, Red.” He shoved the
candy at me, and I had to catch it so that it
didn’t fall on the floor. “Are you always this
rough on people when they try to get to
know you?”
“If it’s so hard, then why are you doing
it?” I needed to hurry my butt to class, but I
wasn’t letting him have the last word.
“Maybe I like a challenge,” he said, but
he wasn’t grinning.
I saw something else on his face.
Determination. Yes, Dusty Sharp was a guy
who was used to getting what he wanted;
anyone could see that. He even walked with
a swagger that broadcast it to the world,
but instead of leaning toward the cocky
douche-bag side, he just seemed confident.
Self-assured. A lot of women found that
sexy.
“I have to get to class. Thank you for the
unnecessary candy. It was…sweet of you.”
“I’m a sweet guy.”
Uh-huh.
“Shall we?” he said.
We walked together up the stairs, and I
left him on the second floor.
“Later, Red.” There was that wave again.
I copied him and he laughed. “’Bye,
Dusty.”
My first assignment in my creative
writing class was to write a two-page paper
about something I had never done before.
Greg gave us our assignment with the
attitude of Santa presenting orphans with
shiny presents.
How the hell was I supposed to write
about something I’d never experienced?
Seriously, how?
Everyone else seemed just as perplexed
as I was, and a guy sitting near me was
muttering under his breath and most of the