Page 42 of False Idols

He’s lounging against the wall at the mouth of the hallway with a drink in one hand and a girl wrapped around his other arm. She’s pretty. Blonde and perky. She looks familiar and I wonder where I’ve seen her. Knowing my luck, she’s in my dorm. My gut turns sour while I watch them together. Beau looks right at home with this kind of girl all over him and when she leans up on her tiptoes to press a messy kiss to his mouth, I want to scream.

He’s mine.

I just had him inside of me. He took the thing I thought I was going to save for the man I married. My virginity was supposed to be for someone I loved. Someone that loved me. Only one of those things is true tonight and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t run down that trail four years ago and called the cops, Beau wouldn’t hate me like he does now. But if I hadn’t told, I wouldn’t have had Beau in my room whispering my name like a prayer, either. He would have never noticed me.

The blonde drops down from her kiss and gives Beau’s chest a smack before she goes on to lean against him as she talks. I don’t pay attention to her. I look at Beau. He looks perfect. Where I looked like I was murdered by the amount of blood on my face and neck, there’s only a slight red smudge on the side of the shirt he’s wearing. Other than that, he’s spotless.

How is that possible?

When we were together, it was like he was everywhere at once. The way he was holding me down, how he was inside of me and whispering in my ear, his breath warm on my neck and chest, his mouth on mine. I touch my mouth. I can’t help it, not when I remember how he kissed me.

I used to dream about Beau kissing me. Nothing prepared me for how good it would be, even when I was terrified of what he was going to do to me. That’s not normal. I know it’s not. You shouldn’t want to be with a man no matter the price. And Beau’s price? It’s my life. That might be why I’m so angry seeing the girl with him. I earned my place with Beau. I earned his wrath and his passion.

What the fuck has she ever done for him?

Nothing. She is perfect and unmarked. She is free to live her life and have Beau out in the open while what we do only happens behind closed doors or where no one else can see. Anger clouds my vision and for a wild second I think about going over to confront them. I want to slap him and scream at him, but it’s the girl I want to hurt the most. I want to rip every hair out of her head and claw her eyes out. I want her to know that Beau is mine. I want her to know what he did to me tonight and how she’ll never have him that way. It’ll never be her that wears Beau’s scars. I touch my neck and Beau smiles in my direction. Just like that, with the knife wound stinging like hell beneath my fingers and Beau grinning at me, I realize how crazy I’m being.

I’m not going over there, that’s insane. I can’t do that. What the hell is wrong with me? Beau purses his lips and blows a kiss my way while the girl nuzzles his neck and wraps her arms around his waist. I watch as he tips his cup back and takes a swallow. Never once does he look away from me and that does something to me.

I feel my clit ache. Oh no. I can’t want him. Why is my body like this? I whirl around and slam the bathroom door open with my palms and sprint to the showers. I can’t want Beau. I have to get clean and into bed. The sooner I’m clean and in my bed, the easier it will be to pretend that nothing happened to me tonight.

I shower as fast as I can and use the hottest water my body can stand. The water swirling around the drain turns red and then pink before it finally runs clear. This time no one comes for me in the shower. I’m also not alone in the bathroom, which helps settle my nerves. I can hear girls coming in and out while I shower and dress. There’s someone throwing up in a stall and another girl sobbing while her friend consoles her.

All in all, it’s what I would expect for a college party. Everyone is in their own world and I dress the wound with the first aid kit I find fixed to the wall beside the sinks. There’s a lot of bandages in the box, but I settle on one that looks close enough to flesh colored and is flexible enough to curve to my neck where Beau cut me. It’s not too noticeable if you don’t look at me closely, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I’m sure Sunny will spot it right away, but seeing as she’s my only friend on campus, I’ll be okay.

When I leave the bathroom, I’m glad Beau isn’t there with the girl anymore. I get into bed and turn the lights off while I try not to think about what they’re probably doing together now that they aren’t in the hallway anymore.

Anger flares in my belly at Beau for the first time ever. It’s sudden, sharp and bitter. I almost choke on it with how strong I feel it, but I breathe through it and let it roll over me until I’m left exhausted and finally, I fall asleep.

* * *

“Welcome to Death and Dying.”

Professor Mrose smiles at us as he walks the length of the lecture hall and claps his hands over his stomach. “I am extremely pleased to have you all joining me this semester for what I know will be a truly memorable educational opportunity for all of you. As you know The History of Death and Dying is only taught in the Fall every two years. It is the university’s most sought after history course for undergraduate and graduate students alike.” He pauses and scans the room. “For some of you, it has been a long hard road to gaining entry into this lecture hall and I commend you for your tenacity.” Professor Mrose lifts his hands to the room and raises his voice. “A round of applause for our tenacious seniors who never thought they would cross the threshold to this illustrious room!”

I laugh as someone lets out a whoop and the room claps and hollers along, while the professor encourages it with a cupped hand to his ear. A minute of cheering goes by before he throws his hands up and waves us off.

“All right, all right. Order! Let’s bring order to our meeting of the minds! However, I would like to make it known that we do have a handful of freshmen in attendance.” There’s a handful of booing and shouts but Professor Mrose shakes his head and wags a finger.

“Now, now! Is that anyway to receive the luckiest among us? “‘Blessed is he who has learned to admire but not envy.’ Who are we to begrudge those with Midas touch?”

My cheeks heat, because he’s talking about me. I wish I didn’t know who else was a freshman in the lecture hall, but there is one that I can spot without thinking.

Beau.

He’s here with me. I saw him the second I hit the door, but he isn’t alone. The girl from last night is there with him too. I hate that she’s smiling at him. I hate it even more that he’s looking at her and not me. I’ve seen Beau in two other classes this week—Psychology and Biology.

That’s three so far. I’m praying there isn’t a fourth, because I don’t know if I can handle it.

“Now as you know, this history class will be unlike any other that you have encountered. There will be field work with each of you assigned fifty headstones to collect headstone rubbings of. We will supply the materials for this, courtesy of the lab fee each of you paid, and you will be responsible for cataloging and identifying noteworthy features of each headstone and grave. We will then pair this with a comprehensive overview of our wide and beautiful Kansas at the time of immigration and settling within the early part of the 19th century to create a vibrant narrative designed to illuminate just how integral early Kansans were the development of the United States as we know it today,” Professor Mrose pauses and looks us over with a raised eyebrow. “This is, of course, going to be a demanding and exacting course, but you would not be here if you were not capable. Now, who is ready to venture into the underworld with me?”

A rousing cheer sounds and even though I’m upset that Beau is here with another girl wrapped around him, I join in. I might have thought to drop a class with Beau in it, but it won’t be this one with how engaging Professor Mrose is. The class is everything I wanted when I dreamed of finally going to college. Even with Beau being in the same lecture hall, no one gives me a second look. I’m no one special when we are in Death and Dying and the feeling is a heady thing. I can be just like everyone else when I’m in class and that only solidifies my decision not to drop the class. Even with the craziness of the last couple of weeks, it’s impossible not to be in a good mood when I leave the classroom. I smile the whole way back to my dorm. I can’t wait to tell Sunny about my class. She’s going to love it. I know it.

It’s weird how normal things go after the night with Beau. I’m right that Sunny loves my news about being in Professor Mrose’s class, and while she does give my neck a few lingering looks, she doesn’t press about the bandage I’m wearing. I’m grateful, because even if the cut between my breasts isn’t deep, it hurts. I made a mistake in not wrapping it and I make sure I do once I’m alone in my shower stall. Thankfully, Sunny is with me, so I don’t have to worry about anyone hurting me. We watch another Romcom and skip dinner to order stuffed crust pizza. It’s such a good night and when I fall asleep it’s with a smile on my face.

After that, things slow down. People stop talking about The Reaper and life goes on. I don’t hear from my mom, but Pastor Mike texts to check in. I feel bad and think I should probably go to church this Sunday as thanks. A week goes by and it isn’t just in my Death and Dying class that people leave me be. It almost feels safe on campus. I’ve even started to venture out alone. I think the novelty of people hating me is slowly wearing off with PSL season about to hit. That or the excitement for our first football game next week outweighs someone beating my ass in the shower. Things have been quiet enough in our dorm since then, but I don’t trust it. Not even Beau has messed with me. I see him in the classes we share, but he hasn’t made a move to mess with me. I watch him just as closely as he watches me and even though he doesn’t corner me, I know he’s waiting for the right time.

He has to be. Nothing that’s happened would make sense if he wasn’t and I don’t think it’s a good omen that we both end up in Death and Dying together. The upside is that Professor Mrose does a lot of great upkeep of the cemeteries in town and I’m enjoying it so far. When I volunteered with Crown of Thorns, it was with a goal to volunteer and give back as much as I could to Bloom. The sad thing was that once I did start volunteering Pastor Mike and the rest of leadership made it clear. We weren’t there for the sake of the work, but for souls. Winning souls was always our goal in the mission of saving and converting the people we were meant to serve, but here with Professor Mrose?

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