Page 4 of Backstroke

“Fuck if I know. He wants to meet for dinner Friday.” The engine purrs to life and the music blares over the speakers. “It must be important because he wants to do it in public where I’m forbidden from making a scene.” A dark laugh booms from my chest. Little does he know that I’m just biding my time until I can get the fuck out from under his thumb.

“Forget about him. Tonight’s going to be lit,” Gray thunders from the back.

“Yeah, freshmen have arrived, so there’s a new all-you-can-eat buffet in town,” Nix smirks, rubbing his hands together like a fucking Bond villain, but I can’t deny things have gotten a bit stale lately. New meat sounds especially good right about now.

We take off toward our large house on campus. Being the founder’s grandson has its perks. Although the swim team isn’tparticularly a fraternity, we get a house that rivals the rest, and tonight is our inaugural start of the term party.

Two

Fallon

Move-in day is nothingbut chaos. I pull my bags from my beat-up car, maneuvering through the maze of students and parents. Mom had things to deal with in town, so I’ve been left to my own devices today. I’m fine on my own, really. It’s not like I ever see much of her anyway. Even less since she divorced my father. Once he went to jail, she was forced to work several jobs to keep us afloat. Up until that time, she had been a stay-at-home mother. I hated seeing her work herself to death and offered to find a part-time job while I was still in highschool but she wouldn’t allow it, saying my grades were more important. I knew she was right, but I still felt guilty.

All through high school, I studied any spare chance I got. I needed to be the best of the best to receive a full-ride scholarship to Frampton University. School funding was the only way I was ever going to escape from the dark veil of what my father did to us. It gave me all the motivation I needed to stay up late and wake up early, spending all my free time at the library.

It was always my dream to attend this university, because it was both of my parents’ alma mater. However, my reasoning no longer involves my father. He can rot in his prison cell for all I care. Nevertheless, my mother always said some of her best years were spent here, so I packed my bags and left my childhood home.

When my father was brought before the judge, many of his other crimes were drudged up, including embezzling from his own law firm. Everything but our house was taken from us. It seemed like domestic abuse was just one of a long list of crimes he’d committed. I shiver at the thought of the night that changed our lives forever.

Since then, my mother and my relationship has become a series of brief, strained interactions. I know she loves me, but the weight of our circumstances has created a distance between us. She’s always tired, always working and I’m always trying to stay out of her way. We don’t talk about Dad much and when we do, it’s with a mix of anger and sadness. I miss the days when she was just my mom, not this overworked, stressed-out version of herself.

Sometimes, I catch glimpses of the old her–a soft smile when I tell her about a good grade, or a gentle touch on my shoulder when she thinks I’m asleep. Those moments remind me that she’s still there, beneath the layers of exhaustion and worry. I want to help her, to ease her burden, but I don’t know how. AllI can do is try to make her proud, to show her that her sacrifices weren’t in vain.

Tuition wasn’t cheap, but fortunately my remaining scholarships covered room and board after paying for classes. I took out a student loan to live on, until I can get settled into classes and comfortable enough to get a job on the side. The loan enabled me to get the necessities I needed for my room, and for the next several months. Thankfully, the dorms are fully furnished because I don’t know how the hell I would get a bed up to the fifth floor without any assistance.

As I navigate through the crowd, I can’t help but feel a pang of loneliness. This is supposed to be an exciting new chapter, but all I can think about is how much I wish things were different. How much I wish we could go back to the way things were before everything fell apart.

My mind is reeling with all the things I need to do before classes begin, when I suddenly slam into a hard body. My body jolts backward until I hit the ground. My bags tumble from my hands, landing in heaps around me.

“Fucking hell,” I curse, as I look around at my things scattered across the quad. I don’t look up until a deep voice speaks above me.

“Why don’t you watch where the fuck I’m going, Emo Smurfette,” the tall, albeit handsome asshole, chastises with a grin, then turns away. Anger swells inside me as I rise from the ground, picking up my bags in the process. My father used to put me down all the time, but after he was taken away, I grew a backbone. Never again will I let a man make me feel small and inadequate.

“Hey, I think you forgot something,” I call out, my voice steady and strong. He stops mid-step and slowly turns to face me. His stormy blue eyes cast aspersions at me.

“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?” he asks, irritation creeping into his voice. His muscles bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest. The sinewy biceps flex under my gaze, forcing my eyes back up to meet his. A satisfying grin spreads across his face, making me want to slap it right off. I don’t know why he’s affecting me like this. With the way he carries himself, so sure and superior to all those around, I know he is very popular on campus and I couldn’t give a fuck. It makes me want to give him more of a hard time.

“See something you like?” he teases. I roll my eyes and square my shoulders. This trust fund prick probably picks on anyone that doesn’t meet his standards. My grunge chic demeanor stands out like a badass from hell.

“Not really,” I snap back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just wondering how someone so full of himself manages to fit through doorways.”

His grin falters for a moment, replaced by a look of surprise. Clearly, he’s not used to being talked back to. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” he says, his tone a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

“And you’ve got quite the ego,” I retort, refusing to back down. “Maybe if you spent less time flexing and more time being a decent human being, people wouldn’t run into you.” His features morph from a cool indifference to anger.Good.Now he’s on my level.

“What did I forget?” I can feel the weird tension pulling and pushing between us, and my irritation grows.

“This.” I flick up my middle finger. His jaw ticks with annoyance, but I just smile, loving the effect I’m having on him.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He moves into my personal space, and I have to lean back to look up at his face.

“Actually, I’m not in the habit of sleeping with assholes whose dicks are pictograph representations of every STD known toman.” I shrug, as a crowd begins to form. “Oohs and ahhs,’ are chanted around us, making the guy before me turn red with anger. I spin on my heels, but not before I see the rage flash in his eyes.

As I walk away, the crowd parts to let me through, their chatter and laughter following me. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, a mix of triumph and defiance. I’ve made my point, and I’m not about to let anyone push me around.

“Yeah, keep walking. That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble. Just wait,” he yells, but I smile and continue on. I won’t give him the satisfaction of responding. He may have had the last word, but we both know who won this round. I’m sure no one dares to speak to him like that, because I saw the surprise in the onlookers’ eyes when I didn’t bow down to him. I’m sure he’s pissed, which gives me an odd sense of satisfaction. Even though the campus is huge, I know I’ll be seeing him again and I’ll be ready.

As I make my way to my dorm, I can’t help but replay the encounter in my mind. The adrenaline is still coursing through me, but there’s also a sense of pride. I stood up for myself and it felt good. No one is going to push me around, not here, not anywhere.

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