Page 19 of Notorious Man on Campus

I nod. I have nothing to say. I can’t discourage him from coming to the party because I have no reason. We watch each other for a few beats then he smirks at me.

“Don’t worry little bro, I won’t crash your party and cramp your style. I’m not going to steal your thunder. I’m not that big brother. I know this is your time to shine.” He pats my back and it’s like he’s nailing spikes into my guilty soul.

“Good to know,” I say, doing my best to keep cool. Trying to keep the mighty rush of guilty relief from my voice. When he laughs I realize I’m not a hundred percent successful. Remorse floods in.

“You’re a trip, you know that?”

“Leave him alone,” Dad says. It’s a repeat of many conversations in the past wherein Jimmy gives me shit for being closed-mouthed and cold and Dad intervenes to keep the peace. His role, the only role he’s managed with some success since Mom—fuck that line of thought.

“No problem, Dad. Jimmy’s entitled to his opinion.” My tone is flat, telling him I don’t give a fuck about his opinion. Too bad it’s one of the biggest lies I tell myself. Because even though my big brother, the guy I idolized and looked up to all my life, fucked up in college and quit all because of a girl, all because of me, I still care what he thinks. Maybe out of guilt I care even more than I did before.

But it won’t do anyone any good to admit to that, to show vulnerability, least of all me. Especially now that Nyla is here and I have something to hide. The rain of guilt should be drowning me right now, but I’m used to it. I’ve learned to hold my breath for a long-ass time.

Chapter 8

Nyla

The sound of the band warming up booms loud and clear in my small room. I feel like I’m in the middle of the action, and the party hasn’t even started yet. Waiting for Dooley to arrive, I pace around in my robe. He told me to wait to dress until he gets here. Apparently he meant it very literally when he said he wanted to style me. I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s only a college party, but it’s my first college party. I want it to be as fun and life-changing as I imagined in all my daydreams. A coming-out party where I transform from the nobody Nyla, the poor girl from the wrong town, into somebody, the smart and talented girl who’s going places. Silly, I know, but the rite of passage I’ve built up this party to be sticks in my heart and soul.

Plus it’s Brick’s party, and he’ll be the center of attention especially after that spectacular performance today on the field. My heart swells remembering it. Seeing him idolized, admired, and ogled by every girl on campus has me on edge. It’ll be a true test of how over him I really am.

And I need to ace that test.

The double knock on my door is quickly followed by Dooley’s, “I’m here.” He flings the door wide and rushes in carrying three bags. “Are you ready to be transformed?”

The sounds of the party preparations get loud like someone suddenly turned up the volume on the TV in the other room and I slam the door shut behind him. I’m not ready.

“I don’t know, Dooley. Tell me again why I’m letting you dress me?”

“Because it’s your time to blossom from your cocoon.” I laugh at his mixed metaphors, but he’s right. I don’t know how he knows exactly what to say, exactly what’s in my heart, but he does. Or maybe I do know because I’ve always been ridiculously and tragically transparent, even when I try and disguise my heart with sass. I give him a big hug.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so nervous.”

“Little Nyla, you have absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Uncle Dooley is here with everything you’ll need for a lights-out, traffic-stopping look.” He lifts his hand holding the three bags. “People will think you came straight in from Hollywood.”

“What did you bring? I thought you were dressing me in my own clothes?”

“Surprise. I brought you something special.” He directs me to my bed and puts the bags there. “Disrobe.” I hesitate and he raises his brows, prompting me to do as he asks.

He pulls clothes out of each bag and hands the items to me one at a time, instructing me to close my mouth, which has dropped open at the sight. “Now let’s try these on,” he says.

He brought me clothes with designer labels that even I know are expensive. After I dress in silence and awe as if we’re playing some kind of very serious childhood game of dress-up in someone else’s clothes—because these are most definitely not mine— he pulls me to stand in front of the tall mirror hanging on the outside of my tiny closet door.

“Look at you.” He stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders and head peeking around the side, wearing his Cheshire cat grin with pride.

I stare into the mirror as if through a window at a stranger.

“I don’t know who this girl is,” I say.

“She’s so you, gorgeous and stylish. Turn around and showcase those rags.” I spin and pose and he holds a bottle of water to his mouth as if it’s a mic and does a hilariously accurate impression of a runway fashion show host. “Ladies and gentlemen, she wears a white cashmere crewneck sweater that fits perfectly, showing off shapely curves without being too tight, paired with black Frame Le High skinny jeans and black Gianvito Rossi lug sole ankle boots. This girl looks kickass.” I laugh and spin again, giving him another hug. I do look kickass. My pulse stammers as I marvel at the picture in the mirror, knowing exactly how Cinderella felt even if she was make-believe. But she was make-believe, and so is this.

“I can’t.” I shake my head. I’m not Cinderella and I can’t let Dooley play my fairy godmother. He’s a fucking grad student and I can’t let him spend so extravagantly on me. I spin away from my image in the mirror. “I can’t possibly accept these clothes from you.”

“You have to or I’m not doing my job.” He’s completely unfazed by my decWillowtion. “Besides, I love playing dress-up.”

“It’s not your job to style me.” I go to my bed and he puts his water bottle microphone down and sits next to me, patting my back.

“What is it, Nyla, baby? You can tell me anything, you know. I’m the vault of secrets. Someday when they open my heart the most shocking revelations will spill out.” He’s smiling and serious at the same time and I’m trying not to be seduced by his utter charm and generosity.