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“Her father killed himself. She showed up to his funeral completely wasted, and on the way home she crashed her car right into a tree. Head-on collision. The whole thing burst into flames. Someone pulled her out and saved her life, but no one knows who it was.”
I now felt guilty for gawking at the poor girl and shifted my attention to my half-eaten slice of pizza. “This is exactly why I don’t watch the news.”
Mallory waved her hand, her voice returning to its normal volume of three hundred. “Please. This isn’t your small town in East Bumblefuck. Bad shit happens. All. The. Time.”
I took a sip of soda. “Bad shit happens in East Bumble, too.” Little did Mallory know, her new friend was well aware of the bad things that could happen—and the bad things one had to do in order to escape it all. My chest tightened as the memories slithered out of the dark corners I locked them in. No. Not here. I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to remain in the present.
“Holy balls!”
I jumped, startled out of my thoughts. “What?”
“Chase Brooks is talking to Merritt! First, she gets rescued from certain death, and now this. That is one lucky bitch.”
“Her father committed suicide, and she was in a horrible accident. I wouldn’t exactly call her lucky.”
“If you knew who Chase was, you’d understand how lucky she is. Look.”
I looked over my shoulder, trying not to be obvious. Chase was tall, muscular, and blond. He looked like a model from California, chiseled jaw and all.
“Gorgeous, right?”
I shrugged as I turned back around. “He’s not bad.”
She blinked several times. “Are you a lesbian?”
“No!”
“I’d still be your friend if you were.”
“I am not a lesbian, Mal.”
“Okay. Point out someone in here that you find attractive.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her seat.
“You can’t tell if you like someone just by looking at him. It’s so much deeper than that. Who cares if he’s good-looking if he’s not a good person?”
“Your vagina cares.”
I cringed at her crudeness. Sensing I had to play along, my eyes swept around the campus cafeteria.
“Come on, Char. You’re not picking out your future husband. You’re just looking for someone who is visually appealing to you. That’s it.”
Across the room, a group of boisterous boys were tossing a football back and forth. They hooted, hollered, and hit on just about every girl who walked through the doors. I continued scanning until I settled on a boy at the far end of their table. With thick dark hair and olive skin, he stared at his phone while he ate lunch. He stood out amongst the crew of rowdy frat boys he was sitting with. Visually appealing was an understatement.
I nodded in his direction. “Him.”
“Well, now I know why you don’t like Chase.”
“Why?”
“Because you like the bad boys.”
I stole a second look at him. “How is he a bad boy? He seems so calm and quiet.”
“That’s not calm and quiet—that’s troubled and brooding. That is Tanner Brooks.”
“Brooks? Is he related to Chase?”
“Yup. That’s Chase’s brother. Chase is the sexy, charismatic rock star, and Tanner is … well, he’s just the other brother.”
