Page 6 of Sweet Vengeance
Ijust arrivedfor my second year at Ashford University, and I don’t feel any less guilty for leaving my dad behind than I did last year. As much as he tries to hide it, I know he’s lonely. How can he not be? We don’t have a big family. My mom’s parents weren’t great, and my dad’s passed away when he was a teenager. Then it went from the three of us to the two of us, and now, though he still has me, we’re thousands of miles apart.
But he would feel even worse if I stayed. He would never forgive himself if he thought I didn’t follow my dream because of him—or at least, that’s what I tell myself; that I’m here so my dad doesn’t feel guilty, when really, there might simply be a super selfish part of me I try to deny is there.
I could have gone to school in Michigan, yet I chose Ashford, and…I’m excited to be back.
Which is strange. Sure, I had a decent first year. I did well in my classes, got a job, but I wouldn’t say my social situation improved. My hope had been to go away to college and meet more friends, real friends, but turns out, being an overcautious nerd who spends most of his time studying isn’t any cooler than it had been in high school.
My best friend—and I use the term loosely—is Dean, myold dormmate, who is now dating one of the guys from what I call “the mini mob”—sons and family members of one of Boston’s most notorious organized-crime families.
That’s scary shit.
And pisses me off, too, because who do those guys think they are? They can get away with anything, both on campus and in life. They thrive off it, have no shame about the horrible things they do.
I look around my dorm room, then sit on the side of the bed.
Dad left a little while ago. He insisted on driving me, like he did last year. He spent as much time as possible helping me organize before he had to get on the road again.
The room feels quiet. I got a single this year, so no roommate, and while it will be nice not to have to worry about drunk people stumbling into my room or Dean’s boyfriend, Tiernan, kicking me out of my own space, it sucks when it comes to meeting people.
Also…it’s averynice room. One of the best on campus from what I’ve heard. I have my own bathroom too.
I’m not expecting the sudden knock at the door. Considering no one knows my dorm room, I figure it must be someone looking for someone else.
I straighten out my polo shirt, then walk over and open the door.
“Dean?” I frown at my friend. I still can’t believe I see him that way. He’s an asshole who probably does illegal things like the rest of them. If he hasn’t, he still spends time with people who do. He’s gruff, impulsive, and angry most of the time, but even from the start, I could see the loneliness in him too. He cares about people, though he doesn’t want to. There’s good inside him, I know it, and I’m hoping if he gets away from Tiernan, he’ll show it more. “How do you knowmy dorm?”
He shrugs. “Computer.” Dean walks in without being invited.
“After you,” I say sarcastically, then close the door behind him. “Did you hack my school records?”
“I wanted to see your new room.”
“You could have texted me.”
He gives me a wicked grin. With his buzzed hair and dark gleam in his eyes, I’d probably be afraid of him if I didn’t know him. “This was more fun.”
I cross my arms. “You know that’s illegal, right?” Which is a dumb question because of course he knows it’s illegal.
“How was your summer?” Dean asks, and as ridiculous as it sounds, some of my anger melts away. It’s a big deal for Dean to come over just to see me, for him to ask about my summer. Yeah, we’ve kept in touch, but it’s normally me reaching out.
“Fine. My dad left a little while ago.”
“I know. I saw him. You look like him.”
My back stiffens. “Were you watching us?”
“I was waiting for him to leave.”
“You could have said hello.”
Dean recoils as if horrified. “Why would I do that?”
This is the Dean I’m more familiar with, but still, his response rubs me wrong. “My dad is really nice.” He would be shocked to know I’m friends with someone like Dean, but he would be polite, and he wouldn’t judge Dean. “He’s a good guy.”
He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Figured. You had to get it from somewhere. I doubt he would like you talking to someone like me.”
I push my glasses up my nose. “Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that,” I tell him, despite having just had a similarthought. I’m not proud of that, but it doesn’t change the truth. I just worry about Dean. I want him to make good choices, want him to have good things in life, because I don’t think he’s had much good. I worry what will happen to him if he keeps spending time with Tiernan and the other mini-mob members. Hell, Dean and Cillian got into a physical fight in our dorm room last year.
