Page 27 of Best Man on Campus

“Really? That’s too bad. I hear he’s like the best. Smart and hot and super good in bed.”

“How the fuck would you know that?”

He laughs. “Girls talk to me.”

“Everyone talks to you, Dooley.” Apparently, even me.

“True, true. But seriously, if you could land that beast…” He does jazz hands and pops his eyes open. “Like wow. He hasn’t dated anyone seriously, like ever, and he’s not a horn dog like some of the guys going through girls like a pothead goes through joints.”

“Or like a junkie goes through needles,” I say, just to seem politely interested. Except I am interested. In spite of myself, because before today, Majiski and Leon were the only sources I had on the character of Ben the fucking unicorn.

Now, based on my time with him, I know so much more than either Majiski or Leon or even Dooley about Ben. And it’s the kind of stuff I’m not inclined to share.

Or am I?

“You know everyone thinks you’re a degenerate slut, albeit with the voice of an angel, but I know you’re more complicated than that,” he says.

“Then you probably also know I’m not a people person.” I feel obligated to mention this before my claws inevitably shred this conversation to bits.

He laughs, “I like you. You’re so real.”

I nod. “I may even like you, Dooley. Not sure why I should.”

“Fair enough. But I thought you’d want to know that being with Ben gives you massive creds.”

“Creds for what?”

“Social standing.” The way he says this, I know it means everything to him.

“You realize social standing means nothing to me.”

He laughs again and I heat up instantly, itching to shove him from his chair onto his ass.

“Sure you do. It’s a fundamental part of humanity. It’s in our genes, Jazzy. You’ve seriously suppressed your need for acceptance for whatever reason.” He waves a hand in the air as if the reason for my damage is inconsequential. My shock at his assessment is so thorough I have nothing to say, feeling like he’s taken a knife and split me open and rummaged around inside.

“What the fuck?”

“Shhh. Prof Smerling is starting class.”

I stare at him and he doesn’t give a shit, doesn’t blink an eye. I should stand and shove his chair over, dump him to the floor. I should stand and walk out of class. I should move or speak or something.

But hell if what he said doesn’t strike a deep chord I had no idea was there. Fuck if I’m not even more fucked-up than I realized.

Okay, that’s not exactly true. I know it’s not normal to hate people, to push them away all the time, but I didn’t realize how much I long for them, for friends. Shit, shit, shit.

I have friends. I have Leon. I have Majiski. I have Dr. Dani. And I have Ben—or I did. For a night.

My face feels hot and my chest tight and I feel like that girl alone five years ago, ripped away from my friends, the life I had. For a fleeting moment I wonder what happened to the circle of girls who were once my friends, to the classmates, the boys, the teachers, the neighbors, all the people I left behind who disappeared from my life as if I went into a witness protection program.

But I didn’t disappear. I became another person. Jazzy Romano. The me before that night Killian was killed, Jasmine, is no longer.

Maybe I’m not sure who Jazzy is yet. I’m in limbo, waiting to come to life again, the instant I find the murdering bitch and extract my revenge.

Or the minute I’m whole. But without my revenge fueling me, what do I have? Who will I be?

The minute I had an orgasm… I changed, I got a piece of myself back.

But am I good enough? Good enough to be accepted by friends? Good enough for these normal whole people to see that I’m not crazy?