Whatever. I'm shutting my phone off.

I waited for a reply, but it didn't come. I shook my head and turned the phone off. I still had some time to kill before class, but nothing better to do so I went to get a good seat. Somehow I'd managed to weasel my way into human sexuality. It was the most popular class on campus, and most people couldn't get in until their senior year. Maybe I'd just gotten lucky. Haha.

The class was located in what people called DPC 100. The DPC stood for David P. Corbett Hall. It was the largest classroom on campus and could hold up to 350 people. It was this crazy dome shape, with the seats stacked like a 3D movie theater. It was always a thousand degrees in there from all the people, and you never knew if you were going to trip on a half-empty Starbucks cup.

Despite being nearly a half-hour early, there were already at least a hundred people in the room. I walked down the sloped side, trying not to trip and also trying to find a seat that wasn't close to anyone else. I liked my personal space, thank you very much.

Most of the seats on the outer edges were taken, but I found one near the front that had a buffer. The desk next to me was broken, so I was pretty sure no one else was going to sit there. I pulled out my e-reader so I could finish the story that had made me late driving up yesterday. It was the latest in a paranormal series I'd gotten addicted to this summer. I was fully engrossed when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Is this seat taken? ”

I had to blink a few times before my brain registered that Hunter was standing next to me and he was asking if he could sit next to me.

“What are you doing here? ”

“Learning about human sexuality. Isn't that what you're here for? ”

I glanced down and then back up at him. Maybe he was a mirage. He smirked, clearly delighted.

Nope.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Granted, I don't have much to learn, but I figured I could use my knowledge and get an easy A.” He slid by me and took the seat with the broken desk, setting his bag down by my feet.

“You are not in this class.”

“I am. You want to see my schedule? I'll prove it.”

“Whatever, ” I said, going back to my book and turning so that my back was as much toward him as I could make it in the small space.

“You know, if you ever want to practice any of the techniques we're going to discuss, I'd be happy to be your study partner, ” he said in a low voice. For some reason, his quiet voice made the proposition even more seductive. Not that I fell for it.

“Screw you, ” I said before I realized I'd walked right into that one.

“I'd like to.”

“I thought you didn't screw people you like.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He stretched his arms over his head, his shirt riding up and showing just the tiniest bit of lean stomach. I snapped my eyes away quickly. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen it the night before.

“For you, Missy, I'd make an exception.”

I glanced at my phone, but we still had at least fifteen more minutes until class started. The room was nearly full, and the chatter echoed in the acoustically tuned space.

“I was thinking about making dinner tonight. You in? ”

What was wrong with him? Seriously, he had to be bipolar. Or he just really, really liked messing with me. Or maybe it was a little of both. I shouldn't respond.

“What are you making? ”

“You tell me what you like and I'll make it.” His face was set in a smile, but it was different than his cocky smirk. This was more genuine. The smile you'd give a friend if you hadn't seen them in a while. Open, honest.

“You'd really make what I wanted? ”

“Why not? ”

There had to be a catch.

“You made me pay for a song, what do I have to do for dinner? ”

“Sit next to me while we eat.”

“That's it? ” That couldn't be it.

“That's it, ” he said, opening his hands.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to root out the catch I knew was there. He just looked at me innocently, which made me want to laugh. I was interrupted by a teaching assistant shoving a stack of syllabi in my hands and telling me to pass them down. I took one and handed the stack to Hunter. Our hands brushed briefly, and I pulled away as fast as I could, grabbing my notebook and writing the date neatly in the corner.

Our teacher was a woman with gray hair, who wore a long purple, gauzy top and matching purple pants. She reminded me of someone who had been a hippie and had never really gotten over it. There were a lot of those at UMaine.

She called us to order as the TAs collected the last of the extra syllabi. There were four TAs for such a large class.

Marjorie, she introduced herself as, got her Powerpoint up and running, and took us through her extensive lesson plan, including her personal history and educational credentials, the papers she'd published and the degrees she held. For someone who looked airy fairy, she certainly had a lot of degrees and accolades. I'd heard nothing but amazing things from other people who had taken the class and I had to admit the subject matter interested me. How could it not? Sex was interesting.

“I'll bet you already cracked the textbook open and took copious notes.”

So sue me, I'd skimmed it before class. I was curious about how graphic the diagrams would be. Turned out pretty graphic.

“I'll bet you're going to rip the pages out and plaster them on the ceiling, ” I whispered back as Marjorie walked back and forth, using one arm to gesture and the other to click through the Powerpoint slides.

“It's all up here, ” he said, tapping his head.

I was facing forward, pretending to be engrossed in the slides. He grinned at me and pulled out a pen, tapping it on his knee one, two, three, four, five times before he paused and started again.

I stole the quickest of quick glances and noticed something else behind his left ear when he moved his head. Looked like another tattoo, but it was so small I couldn't tell what it was.

The girls behind me yapped the entire class, and I wanted to tell them to shut up, but didn't want to start anything. The room buzzed with the hum of chatter the entire hour and a half. Granted, it would have been impossible to keep that many college students quiet for that long.

Hunter was fidgety the entire class. Whether it was pen tapping or knee jiggling or stretching or twitching. He was like a five-year-old high on cotton candy. I hadn't noticed him twitching so much the day before, but maybe I just hadn't been paying attention. But I thought I would have seen him vibrating like he'd had twelve cups of coffee. It was very distracting.

“Are you on speed? ” I whispered as Marjorie was going through the grading scale for our homework assignments.

“Huh? ”

“Are you on speed? Your knee is going a mile a minute.”

“I'm fine, ” he said, leaning over and putting his ankle on his jiggling knee.

He started pen tapping again, and I reached out so he'd stop. My hand connected with his. It was the first time I'd really touched him. My fingers closed over his fist and the tapping stopped. I removed my hand without looking at him.

“Thank you, ” I said.

He didn't respond, but his hand stayed still the rest of the class. When it was time to leave, I was hoping he'd just get up and go, but that didn't happen, of course. He packed up his things slowly, as if he was waiting for me. I took my sweet time.

“Do you have another class, or is this it for you? ”

“I'm done for the day, ” I said, standing up.

He followed suit and walked behind me as we left the room. I hated the fact that he was behind me, because he had full view of my ass as I walked up the stairs. I half-expected him to grab it, but he didn't.

We walked side by side out into the bright sunshine. It was blinding after being in the dark lecture hall.

“Mind if I walk back with you? I don't have class again until four, so I figured I'd crash for a little while.”

“It's not like I can stop you. It's a free sidewalk, ” I said, looking left and right before crossing the road. He walked beside me, shortening his stride so he could match my stubby legs.

“True, but if I ask it makes me seem like a nice person.”

“You're not a nice person, ” I said.

He laughed. “You're right, I'm not.”

He shook his head as if it was the funniest thing ever. It wasn't, really. Most people wanted other people to like them so they tried and were overly nice. Hunter wasn't like that. He was what he was and didn't give a shit if people liked it or not. No matter how crazy he drove me, I had to admire that about him. Sometimes I cared too much what other people thought of me. It must have been freeing to go through life like that.

We didn't talk much as we walked. At first it was strange, but the more we walked, the easier it was. It was the longest I'd heard Hunter go without a sarcastic comment or sexual innuendo. It was kind of nice.

“So, about dinner, ” he said when we walked into the apartment, “what do you want me to make? ”

The room was quiet; the other girls must still have been at class.

“You're serious? ”

“As a heart attack.”

I set my bag down and leaned on the counter. Okay, Hunter Zaccadelli, you could make me dinner.

“Stuffed French toast, sweet potato hash and strawberries and cream.”

“Breakfast for dinner? You rebel, you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I live on the edge. So, think you're up to the challenge, Z? ” I said, using the ridiculous nickname the bouncer had used last night.

“Piece of cake. Or toast, in your case. I'll stuff your toast, baby.”

I rolled my eyes. Soon I would be desensitized to his comments, but I hadn't quite gotten there yet.

“Whatever. I'm going to take a shower. No, you can't come with me, ” I said, cutting off whatever comment he was going to make.

“Anytime you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Unfortunately, I did.

Six

“How the hell did you do that? ” I said, looking at the dining room table. It was spread with mounds of my favorite French toast that was stuffed with oozing Nutella, sweet potato hash that he'd made exactly how I did, despite my vague and confusing-on-purpose instructions, and strawberries that he'd somehow cut and stuffed with the hand-whipped cream. He'd even found champagne and made mimosas.

“I'm a man of many talents. Some of them are hidden, some are not. Maybe sometime you'll let me show you some of the hidden ones.” I was too dazzled by the meal to make a snappy comment.

“Holy crap, dude. I didn't know you could cook, ” Renee said, coming out of her room.

Darah had already picked up her job as a desk attendant at the Union and wouldn't be back until late.

“We should probably eat it before it gets cold. Dig in, ladies, ” he said, handing me a plate. There was definitely enough food for about twelve people. “I hope you don't mind, but I invited Mase over. Dev and Sean might come, too.”

So that was why he made so much. I couldn't really stop him from having his friends over, but I didn't want our apartment turning into a frat house with beer cans everywhere and strange girls sneaking out in the morning from one-night-stands on our couch. Yuck and ew.

“Fine with me, ” Renee said, piling her plate with strawberries and cream and only one piece of French toast.

What was it with girls being afraid to eat in front of guys? I'd never had that fear, so I loaded my plate up. Just as I was about to plunge my fork into the French toast and unleash the Nutella-y goodness, there was a knock at the door. I had to hand it to them, at least they hadn't just barged in.

Hunter opened the door, and Mase and Dev came in.

“What are you making? It smells fantastic, ” Mase said, going right for the table full of food.

“I made this on Taylor's request. She doubted my cooking skills, so I had to show her what I've got.”

“You should never doubt Hunter when he brags about something. Most of the time if he's bad at something, he just won't talk about it. If he's bragging, it means he's telling the truth, ” Mase said, grabbing a fork and shoveling French toast onto a napkin.

“Do you want a plate? ” I said.

“Naw, I'm good like this. Then you don't have to wash an extra.”

How considerate. Dev was more cautious, asking me where the plates were and waiting until everyone else had gotten their fill before taking what was left, which wasn't much. Sean followed suit. There weren't enough chairs, so we crashed on the couch and the living room floor like we had the night before with the pizza.

Choruses of “oh my God, ” “mmm, ” and “dear sweet Jesus” were interspersed with loud chewing and swallowing. Other than that, the conversation was nonexistent.

Okay, okay, I had to admit it. Hunter hit it out of the park. French toast was one of those foods that seemed easy to make, but was crazy easy to screw up. He'd overstuffed the middle with so much Nutella that it oozed out when I cut it with my fork and dripped down my chin when I bit it. I wiped it off and licked my finger. Hunter was watching me, as if waiting for my reaction.

“It's okay, I guess, ” I said, cutting up another piece and shoving it in my mouth. He raised his eyebrows and took a bite of his own, chewing slowly.

Sweet Christ it was like I'd died and gone to breakfast heaven. I really hoped he wouldn't use his cooking skills as leverage for sexual favors. For this, I might have to give in.

“I think we need to have a toast, ” Renee said, raising her glass. Well, it was really a plastic cup. None of us had brought champagne glasses with us when we moved in.

“To hidden talents, ” she said.

We all clinked our glasses. Hunter winked when ours met. I wrinkled my nose at him.

“If you guys are going to eat like this every night, I might have to move in, ” Mase said. “All we have is microwave popcorn, beer and week-old fried chicken that no one remembers buying.”

I shuddered, as did Renee.

“My ex-boyfriend never stocked his fridge. I always had to bring my own groceries when I stayed over, ” Renee said, emphasizing the word, “ex.” As if everyone hadn't caught it.

“I think it's a guy thing, ” I said.

“Not every guy, ” Hunter said.

“Apparently not, ” I responded.

My phone vibrated with a text from my mother, and I excused myself to chat with her. Hunter gave me a questioning look, but I hit call, put the phone to my ear and ignored him.

“Hey, Kid, long time no talk! I thought you were lying in a ditch somewhere, ” she said as I settled onto my bed to chat.

“Nope, sorry to disappoint. I'm alive and well. Sorry I haven't called you. Things have been a little nuts.”

“How did moving in go? ”

I gave her a quick rundown. I felt like I needed to record myself telling the story so I could just hit play when someone asked. I left out a lot when I gave her the mom-version. I didn't want to worry her. She always worried about me more than Tawny. I wasn't sure if it was because I was the baby or because of my issues. Perhaps both.

“Oh, no.” She proceeded to urge me to go right down to housing and give them hell. I told her that was what I had done, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

“Well, I'm going to call and give them a piece of my mind. That's ridiculous that they won't do anything. They're just being lazy. Hang on, ” she said, and I could tell she was putting me on speaker so she could look up the number.

“Mom, it's okay. I'll deal. You don't have to fight the bullies for me.”

“But I'm your mother. I'll always want to beat the crap out of people who are mean to you.”

“No one was mean to me. It's fine.” I was beginning to regret telling her. Mom was always trying to make up for not protecting me that one time. She'd been making up for it since I was twelve, and I didn't know when it was going to end, or at least lower in intensity. I loved her more than I could say, but I didn’t need her to fight my battles for me.

“Are you sure? You know I can make things happen.”

It was true. That woman could talk her way in or out of anything. She had this way of making people believe what she wanted them to. In another life I thought she would have been a lawyer.

“I know you can and I love you for it. I've just gotta deal with it, okay? How about we talk about something else. How's work? ”

She was reluctant to leave the topic, but switched for my sake. We chatted for a few more minutes while she told me funny stories about her coworkers at the bank and silly customers who couldn't understand how to use a debit card. She’d worked her way up at a local bank from teller to manager. I chatted a bit about my classes and told her about my job search. Nothing heavy, nothing serious.

“Your father called today, ” Mom said, casting a dark cloud over our chat.

“What did he have to say? ”

“Not much, he said he wanted to see you soon.”

He said that every time he called. My parents had gotten divorced when I was thirteen, and he lived in Connecticut now, which wasn’t far enough, in my opinion. He called me every now and then, but I always deleted his voicemails.

“I'm sure he does.”

“You should go and see him. I know he misses you.”

“If he missed me, he'd come to see me.”

“I know, Kid. I know.” She sighed, and I twisted my hair around one finger.

“Listen, I'll call you this weekend and we can talk more, okay? ”

“Okay, Kid. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hung up and sat back on my pillows, closing my eyes. A soft knock made me sit up. “What do you want? ” I knew it would be Hunter. The door cracked open, and he poked his head in.

“Just wanted to let you know the guys are gone, and Renee went to the library to get some reading, done, so if you wanted some privacy you didn't have to hide in here.”

Renee already had massive amounts of reading since she was a nursing major. She also had a sick obsession with gory descriptions of diseases.

“Where are you going to be? ” I said.

“Where do you want me to be? ” His smirk was back.

“Wherever I'm not, ” I said, getting off my bed and pushing past him into the living room. I really didn't have any homework that had to get done tonight, so I decided to finish the book he'd so rudely distracted me from reading that morning.

I got out my e-reader and folded myself on the couch. I had to use my left hand to hold it because my right was still recovering from the encounter with Hunter’s face. I should probably have put some more ice on it, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

The kitchen was spotless, the dishes already in the drainer and all other evidence of the breakfast buffet was gone. Guess cleaning was a hidden talent as well. Darah hadn’t had a chance to make our chore chart yet, but I was sure she was on it.

“Do you mind if I play? ”

“No, go ahead, ” I said, not looking up from my book.

He went to our room and came back with his guitar. I hadn't really looked at it the day before, but it had definitely been through the ringer. It was black, but dinged and scratched all over. He sat in the chair across from the couch and settled the strap around his neck. I kept reading, but waited for him to start.

“Requests? ”

“I thought I had to pay for them, ” I said.

“I'm feeling generous. I'll give you a few freebees.”

“How generous.” He strummed a chord. I thought about it for a second. “ Smooth Criminal. Either version.”

He looked surprised for a second, and then started to play. I couldn't help but groove to the familiar tune. Against my will, my head bopped and my feet twitched. He didn't sing, but played the song and that was enough. He was very talented. When the song ended, he continued to strum a transitional tune.

“Next? ”

“ On my Own. ” There was no way he'd know that one. I'd had a brief obsession with musicals in high school and had a minor part in the community theater production of Les Miserables. I'd wanted more than anything to play Eponine, but there were too many other girls who tried out and had been in theater since they were born, so I didn't get the part. I’d been mildly crushed for at least a month.

“You think you're going to stump me, but I assure you, I can play pretty much anything, ” he said before he launched into a guitar version of the song.

Honestly, I thought even if he knew it, he wouldn't be able to play it on a guitar. I had been proved wrong again. I was still holding my e-reader, but the book wasn't captivating me as much as Hunter.

He got lost in the music, throwing his whole body into the song. It was like he wasn't even aware of what he was doing; he was just getting lost in the music. It was beautiful to watch. Hunter played with everything he had and he was good. No, he wasn't good. He was amazing. Hypnotic. Could this be the same boy who'd said I was fuckable last night?

He abruptly ended the song, placing his hand on the strings so they'd stop vibrating.

“Free request time over. If you want to pay, I'll continue.”

I could only imagine what he'd take in payment, so I just picked up my book again.

After a few minutes, he started again, just picking out random notes and tunes. He'd play a few lines of a song, enough for me to recognize it, and then it would melt into something else.

“Can I ask you something? ” I said a half-hour later.

“You can ask whatever you want, doesn't mean I'm going to answer.” He quickly plucked one string.

“Why are you a business major? I'd rather eat glass than admit it, but you have talent.”

“This? ” he said, pointing to the guitar. I nodded. “So I can be a starving artist? There are ten thousand guys with guitars who can play.”

“But if you love doing it, then why wouldn't you? ”

“I am doing it. Right now.”

I just wanted a real answer from him. If I was going to be stuck with him for the rest of the week, we might as well get to know each other. He may have been a jerk, but he was an intriguing one. I wanted to know how he'd become the guy he was. You know, before I tossed him out on his ass.

“You know what I mean.” He shrugged and went back to strumming. “Oh, so you shut down when you don't want to talk. I see how it is, ” I said.

“You don't want to know about me, Taylor. You really don't. Trust me when I say those things are not worth knowing.”

“I could be the judge of that, I think.”

He gave me a smile, but it was twisted.

“That's what they all say. Everyone says they want to know you, but they don't. They want to know the nice things, the pretty things. No one wants to know the ugly parts, the parts that keep you up at night. They say they're okay with it, but then they drift away and you never see them again. I've seen it happen way too many times. Girls don't want to know that shit.”

“Maybe this one does.”

His smile appeared again.

“That's what they all say, ” he repeated.

I decided to give up and went back to my book. He went back to strumming, and we stayed like that until Darah got back at 10: 30. She seemed shocked to find us in our current positions, but recovered quickly.

Renee got back a little while later when the library closed, her eyes glazed over from all the medical terminology she'd tried to cram into her brain in just a few hours. I was exhausted from the previous night, so I wanted to turn in early. I made sure to take my damn pill so I wouldn't wake everyone up with my night terrors. I was already in bed and had my eyes closed when Hunter came in after his shower.

The smell of his clean skin overwhelmed the room, and I tried to pinpoint what it was. It was something similar to wood or cinnamon. Something warm.

I heard him get into bed and slip his boxers off.

“I don't know if you're awake or not, but good-night, Taylor.”

I decided to pretend I was asleep. He waited for a response, but when I didn't give one he rolled over and sighed.

“Damn you, ” I heard him say under his breath.

Right back atcha.

Seven

I was the first to wake up the next morning. Somehow our blackout curtain had gotten pushed aside and a crack of sunlight was poking under my eyelids. I opened them and moaned. Stupid sun. I rolled over and checked the clock. It wasn't even seven yet. Why had I woken up? Then I heard a voice.

Hunter was talking in his sleep, just like he said he would.

“No, I don't think so, ” he said. It was hard to make out what he was saying because his back was to me and he was mumbling. Figuring I probably wasn't going to get back to sleep, I turned so I could see him.

“Don't. Stop it. Put it down.” His voice was calm, but his words were not. He seemed to be having a nightmare. Guess I wasn't the only one.

“Please don’t.” His voice had a hint of tears in it. I wondered if I should wake him up. He tossed in his sleep, throwing his covers about. I didn't have time to shut my eyes, but luckily his blanket covered strategic places. It was also still pretty dark. Even still, it showed enough. His back was to me, and I saw yet another tattoo in the middle of his back.

“Stop! ” he said louder.

I got out of bed and stumbled over. Maybe I could poke him and get back into bed quick enough so he wouldn't notice. I shoved his shoulder, but he moved so fast that I stumbled and nearly fell on top of him. A hand lashed out at me, and I had to duck to avoid it.

“Hunter! Wake up! ” It was dé jà vu. I hoped this wouldn't become a pattern.

A strong, warm hand grabbed my shoulder, and his eyes flew open. He gasped, as if he didn't know where he was. His grip relaxed.

“Hey, it's okay. You just seemed upset.”

He glanced at his hand on my shoulder as if it didn't belong to him. He let go and pushed away from me.

“Go back to bed, ” he said.

“Are you okay? ”

“Go. Back. To. Bed.” His teeth were gritted, and he looked like he was angry that I'd woken him. My bad.

“Sorry, ” I said before stepping away and crawling back into bed.

He breathed heavily and rolled back over. I didn't go back to sleep and I could tell he didn't either. A half-hour later I heard him get up and put his boxers and a t-shirt on. I pretended I was asleep.

A little while later I heard low voices in the kitchen. Deciding it was about time, I got up and went to find some breakfast.

Hunter was hunched over a plate of eggs and toast when I came out of our room. Renee was on the couch with the television on and a bowl of cereal. I heard the noise of the shower and made the deduction that Darah was in there.

“Good morning, ” I said to whoever would answer.

Hunter grunted and Renee made a similar noise. It was only the second day of classes, but everyone was still on summer time.

I grabbed a bowl of cereal and went to sit with Renee. I was getting bad vibes from Hunter. That boy and I were going to have to have a chat, sooner or later. I had the feeling he was going to avoid it as long as he possibly could. I'd have to be the one pushing.

One by one, my roommates went to their various morning classes until it was just me and Hunter. Surprise, surprise.

“We need to talk, ” I said, “and you can't do that thing where you shut down or don't answer or make some sort of innuendo so I'll get distracted or off topic. If we're going to live together, we've got to be able to talk to one another. Got it? ”

He put his plate in the sink and turned around, bracing his back against it. His eyes told me I was in for a battle.

“Don't make me punch you again, because I swear to God, I will.” That elicited a smirk. His face still had a slight shadow where I’d gotten him. “I also have no qualms about going for your man bits again.”

“I don't doubt you for a second, Missy.”

“I've talked with housing about you. I have a meeting on Friday with the head of housing.”

“Still trying to get rid of me? ”

“I just don't see how this can work out. You're... you.” I couldn't come up with a better way of saying it.

“Yes, I am.” He seemed to get it. “But I fail to see that as a reason for kicking me out. If I came home drunk or had sex with strange girls or made you uncomfortable, that would be a reason.”

“You do make me uncomfortable.”

“But not in that way. I make you uncomfortable because I shake up what you thought about people. I make you nervous. You want me, but you don't know why and you can't stop fighting it.”

I sputtered for a second, shocked.

“You are so...” My hands shook with anger. I really, really wanted to punch him again.

“I've hit a nerve, I see. Means I'm right.”

“You are the cockiest, douchebaggy asshat I've ever met, and I can't wait to get rid of you.”

He laughed for the first time. On anyone else, it would have been sexy as hell. On him, it just made me more enraged.

“Fuck you, Hunter. Fuck. You.”

“You want to, that's part of your problem.”

Before I could react, he crossed the room and stood right in front of me.

“Tell me you don't want me. Look me in the eye and tell me if I kissed you right now, you wouldn't kiss me back. Tell me.”

“I don't want you, ” I said, grinding my teeth around every word. Breathing became difficult. He was so close. I couldn't see anything beyond him. My eye level was at his chest, where the ink from his tattoos showed through the thin cotton. His smell surrounded me, and I caught a tiny whiff of sweat. My mouth went dry, and I kept my eyes on his chest because I knew I couldn't look up.

Two days ago, I hadn't known Hunter Zaccadelli existed. Today, I couldn't look him in the eyes for fear I'd lose myself. No, I had to shut this down.

I closed my eyes and stepped away.

“I don't want you, ” I said, looking at his eyes and not blinking. “Now get away from me.” He didn't move, so I walked away.

One thing was sure: I had to get Hunter out of my life.

I wanted him. I wanted him to kiss me and touch my face and put his fingers in my hair. I wanted him to pick me up and hold me and be with me.

I was losing it. Absolutely losing it. I had to get out of this space. He took up too much of it. He made my brain do funny things and not think clearly.

I had to get away.

I got dressed as quickly as I could and threw my books for the day into my bag. I dashed to the bathroom, hoping I wouldn't run into Hunter. I could hear his guitar in the living room. I didn't look at him as I rushed out the door. As soon as I was in the hallway, I was able to breathe.

What was it about him? Was it the tattoos? The way he called me Missy? The way he was so open about his sexuality? Maybe it was a combination.

It was a combination I couldn't say no to, but I would have to.

I was never going to fall in love. I was never going to be with someone like that. People only hurt you when you loved them that way. They took what they wanted and used you up. My mother still missed my dad, even though it had been so many years. She still looked at their wedding pictures and smiled, thinking about times when they were happy. But it hadn't lasted. Nothing like that lasted.

Boys like Hunter burned everything they touched. Boys like that were dangerous. I knew that without a doubt. If I let him, Hunter would drag me down. I would not let it happen.

I spent the rest of the day looking for Hunter around every corner. I turned my phone off so I wouldn't see his texts, if he sent any. I made sure to keep a lookout in the Union. I kept thinking I saw him, but it turned out to just be a look-a-like. There were a lot of guys who sort of looked like him, but no one quite close enough.

I did everything I could to avoid going back to the apartment and ended up finishing all my homework before the end of the day. I had my last class of the day with Megan and offered to have dinner with her so she could avoid eating with the “cannibals, ” as she called her boyfriend's buddies. It wasn't completely to avoid Hunter, because I really did want to spend time with Megan.

“Have you figured out your roommate issue? ”

“I wish, ” I said, biting into my chocolate croissant. Hunter was the kind of person who made me need chocolate therapy. “It's really complicated.”

“Things with the opposite sex usually are.”

“How's everything working out for you? ”

She lifted one shoulder.

“Jake's my soul mate. I know that. Sounds cheesy, but I know that we're not complete without each other. So I put up with his disgusting friends and their endless Family Guy marathons because I love him. Someday we'll move in with just the two of us, and I'll be able to have a clean bathroom. Someday...”

We finished eating, and I walked Megan to her car.

“Girls night this weekend? I think the guys are going to a party, so the house will be free. I'll make margaritas, ” she said in a singsong voice. “Come on, please? I'm inviting Haley and Robin, too.” They were two other girls from our major that we’d formed a little group with. They’d be the perfect antidote to too much Hunter.

“Sure, it's on. Just text me when would be a good time. You want me to bring anything? ”

“Every single girly movie you own.”

“Done, ” I said.

She squealed and gave me a hug before hopping in her car.

It was still light out, so I didn't have to worry too much about walking by myself. I said good-bye to her and reluctantly walked back to the apartment. I kept my fingers crossed the entire way that Hunter would be gone, or at least one of the girls would be there as a buffer.

I took a deep breath before I opened the door.

“Hey, where have you been? ” Renee said, looking up from one of her massive nursing textbooks. The television was blaring; I didn't know how she could focus.

“Had dinner with Megan. Where's everyone else? ”

“Hunter went somewhere, and Miss Darah is on a date with Mase, if you can believe it.”

“No way, ” I said, joining her on the couch. “I thought I saw something there, but I didn't know he'd move that fast.” College was a strange situation. Things always seemed to happen at warp speed.

“Me neither, but it was really cute. I think she really likes him.”

“I have a really hard time picturing them together, but if he makes her happy, then that's what matters.”

“Well, she hasn't even come home yet, so we can reserve judgment until then.”

“If she does come home, ” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“You know she's not that kind of girl.”

I did, but I never underestimated anyone when it came that.

“I'm bored. I don't think I can do any more reading. You want to do something? ” She closed her book.

“Like what? ”

“I don't know. Mall? ”

I wasn't much for shopping, but if we got to go to the bookstore, I was in. Also, it would get us out of the apartment in case Hunter came back from whatever he was doing. I only had a tiny temptation to text him, but quickly squashed it. I was staying away from him until I could get rid of him.

“Sounds good, just let me grab some cash.” I ran into my room to grab some money from the jar I kept in my desk. I had to leave my debit card at home when I went into a bookstore or else I would drain my account. I was about to leave when I saw something on my pillow. Curious, I picked it up.

This is me giving you space. See? We can live together without living together. You still haven't given me an answer about that bet. All you have to do is prove one way or another and I'm gone. The ball's in your court, Missy.

I crumpled the note in my fist. He knew what I was trying to do, and that infuriated me. I didn't like him knowing what I was thinking, since I almost never knew what was running through his head.

I shoved the note in my desk and slammed it shut.

“So what is with you and Hunter? I know you've got this weird I-hate-you-but-I'm-really-attracted-to-you thing going on, but could you like, tone it down? ”

“What are you talking about? ”

“Oh, please. You guys eye fuck each other every second you can. It's disgusting, really.”

I hopped into the passenger’s seat of Renee's Mazda.

“We don't do that.” We totally did, but it was Hunter's fault. “I don't mean to anyway. He definitely does.”

“That's what attraction is. That uncontrollable urge to jump someone's bones, even in mixed company. You guys haven't...” She didn't need to finish.

“Oh, God, no! I'm not that kind of girl either.”

I had never told Darah or Renee that I was a virgin. The only person who knew about that was Megan, and that was because we were so close, and I knew I could trust her with something like that. I’d trusted her with a much bigger secret.

“Never say never, doll. Did I ever tell you how Paul and I met? ” I knew they'd only met about a year ago, but had gotten serious, fast.

“I was wasted at a party, and this guy was trying to take me home. I don't really remember this, but Paul shoved him off me and asked me where I lived. I somehow managed to tell him, and he got me into a cab and helped me back to my room. Darah was gone for the weekend, so I was all alone. He stayed with me the whole night and took care of me. I puked my guts out, and he held my hair and everything. You'd think he'd never want to see me after that, but he ended up staying the whole day. When I sobered up I realized that he was pretty damn special. And I think you can figure the rest out. So, never knock sex early in a relationship. I mean, it didn't work out with us, but it was great while it lasted.”

Her voice was filled with longing. I knew she missed him, but refused to take his calls or answer his texts. I didn't even know why they had broken up, but she insinuated it was something he had done. I asked her if he'd cheated on her, but she said it wasn't that. Darah and I had racked our brains, but hadn't figured it out. We'd been tempted to ask Paul, but didn't want to go behind Renee's back.

I'd never really had a boyfriend. I’d had too many public angry episodes for the boys I’d grown up with to even consider wanting to date me. In eighth grade when the other girls were having their first boyfriends and getting kissed, I had a mouthful of metal braces and a bad attitude. When I got older and other girls were getting serious and hooking up and so forth, I spent my time reading and glaring at any boy who gave me the once over. Soon my reputation as an ice queen became well-known enough that the boys left me alone, which was how I wanted it.

I'd never been around anyone who challenged me and fought me on everything until I met Hunter. He scared me in a way, and I'd never been scared of a boy before. That was why I had to get rid of him.

Maybe I could take his bet. I hadn't been able to make him see that I hated him, because I didn't. I hated him at times, but my other feelings for him seeped through, clouding the hate into a murky substance that I couldn’t define.

The other part of the bet? The making him believe I loved him? I couldn't do that either. I'd shut off that part of myself when I was twelve, and there was no turning it on now after so many years. Hunter would see right through me if I tried to fake it.

I was between a rock and a hard place. I was going to have to wait and see what Friday brought.

Eight

Hunter and I barely saw each other for the rest of the week. I assumed he went and hung out at Mase's, but I didn't know for sure because he barely said twenty words to me. When he did come and sleep at the apartment he always arrived after I was out and left before I woke. I didn't know how he did it, but he was like a shadow, sneaking in and out.

When I did see him, he pretended not to see me. Darah and Renee noticed, but after making inquiries, which Hunter and I both shot down, they stopped asking.

Friday afternoon finally came, as did my meeting with Marissa.

I had to wait ten full minutes before Marissa finally opened her door and called me in. Her office was nasty-neat and could have been a stock image for what an administrative office should look like with the generic watercolor print, and motivational poster. Gag.

She adjusted her glasses on her nose before sitting behind her desk, absentmindedly straightening her wrist rest.

Everything about her was orderly: her short hair, crisp shirt and flat expression.

“So, what can I do for you, Taylor? You said you were having an issue with one of your roommates.” She leaned forward and braced her arms on the desk.

I gave her the run-down, leaving out a lot of what Hunter had done. I wasn't repeating what he said, word for word.

“So he makes you uncomfortable? Have you tried talking with him about it? ”

“Yes, I have, ” I said. Her face had been blank when I told my sob story, and I could tell this was going to be a dead end. I could just feel it. But maybe I was being pessimistic.

“Have you gone to your resident director? They are always available to talk or discuss disputes and they have training on how to help with those situations.” It was like banging my head against a brick wall.

“I was really hoping that this could just be resolved, seeing as how it was a mistake to begin with.”

“Well, there isn't really anything we can do right now. Unless there is an emergency, we have to keep places available for those who really need them. It sounds like it's more of a personality conflict. I'm going to recommend that you have some mediation with your RD, and you can come and see me in a few weeks, okay? ”

I wanted so, so much to say, “Are you fucking serious? ” but that wouldn't have helped my case.

“So there's nothing you can do? ”

“Not unless there is a direct threat. Has he threatened you? Don't be afraid to speak up.”

I thought about it for half a second, but I knew if I told her Hunter had threatened me, then he would get in trouble and could get kicked out of school. Campus security would get involved, and he could even get arrested. As much as the image of Hunter in jail amused me, I couldn't be the one to put him there if he didn't deserve it. Seeing as how I was the one who technically assaulted him.

I was stuck.

“No, he hasn't.”

“Okay. Here's my card. Never hesitate to call us if it's an emergency. Sounds like you two just need to have a chat. I'll have your RD contact you about setting up some mediation.” She stood and held out her hand, effectively ending the meeting. I had no choice but to stand, shake her hand and leave with her card clutched in my hand.

What a fucking waste of time.

I didn't know why I had expected anything more. In a university with around 12, 000 undergraduate students, I was a number. That was why I'd chosen UMaine instead of a smaller college. Now I was paying for it.

I stormed back to the apartment. Darah had gone home for the weekend to celebrate her mom's birthday, so she was already gone. Renee had a nursing group meeting, so I knew if anyone was going to be there, it would be Hunter.

I tried not to slam the door, but failed.

“Rough day? ” a male voice said.

I glanced at the couch to find him sitting there with his guitar.

I held my composure for a second.

“You're on, ” I said, walking over to him and sticking my hand in his face. “The bet, you're on.”

He stared at my hand for a second and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Once we shake hands there is no going back.”

I nodded, but pulled my hand back before he could touch me.

“There have to be some parameters. This whole thing about loving and hating can't be proved. I told you I hated you and punched you, but you didn't believe it. If I said I loved you right now, you wouldn't believe me. So how do we measure this? ”

“It's harder to say you love someone than to say you hate them. So you have to say the words. And they have to be real.”

“How will you know they're real? ”

He shrugged.

“I'll know. You'll know.”

“And the hate part? ”

“I'll know you hate me when I see that look in your eyes. I've seen it before, and I'll know.”

“So you're going to determine this. I have no say? ” I balled my hands at my sides, wanting to hit him.

“I'm not forcing you to accept this. You can call housing and tell them that I'm sexually harassing you. They'll drag me to a disciplinary hearing and probably kick me out of school. You could say the word right now. But you aren't going to do that.”

“I can't, ” I said. As much as it would get him out of my life. “You're a jerk, but you're not that. If you were, I would have gotten rid of you so fast, your head would have spun around.”

“Exactly. You're not a girl who puts up with anything. You can take care of yourself; you showed me that on the first night. You'll let me know when I've gone too far.”

“I will.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay, ” I said, and we shook hands. I tried to let go, but he took my hand and pulled me so I crashed into his chest.

“So, here we are. You're stuck with me until Christmas, ” he breathed.

He let go of my hand, and I stepped back. It was not an easy thing to do. My body was drawn to his like the opposite pole of a magnet.

“You think you're the one who makes my life difficult. I can make it so much worse for you, ” I said, smiling sweetly. His blue eyes were skeptical.

“How so? ”

“You really want to know? I'm going to invite a bunch of girls over, and we're going to watch girlie movies and talk about our periods and burn all kinds of scented candles and we'll probably stay up all night giggling.”

“When do the naked pillow fights and making out start? ”

I smacked his shoulder.

“You pig, that's not what happens at sleepovers unless they're in the movies. But Darah and Renee and I can gang up on you. You have no idea how bad it could be.”

“What makes you think any of that would make me uncomfortable? ” he said, throwing a wrench in my spur-of-the-moment plan to get him back.

“Because all guys run away when girls start talking about their menstrual cycles. You're supposed to run away now.”

He stepped closer to me.

“Doesn't bother me.”

“Tampon, ” I said.

He took another step.

“Cramps. Bloating. Heavy flow.”

His chest was almost touching my nose. I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. He didn't blink. I could almost feel the cotton of his shirt against my skin. He slowly reached up and put his thumbs on either side of my face.

“Keep going, ” he said, pulling my face up, so I had to go up on my toes. Oh, my.

At that precise moment, my brain stopped working. It stopped thinking, and even trying to think.

“Out of words, Missy? ” he said, one side of his mouth tipping up.

That smirk snapped me back into reality. I glared at him and pulled away from his hands. He chuckled.

“You're going to have to work really hard to prove you hate me. The other thing, maybe not so hard.”

“You're full of it, ” I said, crossing my arms.

“And you have no idea how sexy you look right now, so pissed at me.”

My mouth dropped open. I didn't have anything to say, so I pulled my knee back like I was going to get him in the balls, but stopped short of hitting them. It was awesome to watch him flinch.

“Watch it there, ” he said.

I just grinned at him.

“Don't forget you have something you value very much more that I can damage. Just remember that.”

“How could I forget? ”

“Don't you have somewhere to be? Some other girls to objectify? ” I asked.

“Why would I go anywhere when I have all I need right here? ”

I was going to make a snappy comment, but couldn't come up with one. It surprised me that a twenty-year-old, good-looking guy wouldn't have plans on a Friday night. But hey, what did I know?

*****

Hunter treated me with the same cocky manner he'd used the first two days I'd met him, which was quite a change from the cold indifference. He made comments that would have made me blush a few years ago. Renee came back from her meeting and kept giving me a look when he did it. The I-told-you- so look.

I wasn't going to sleep with Hunter. I wasn't going to sleep with anyone, at least not right now. I couldn't even think of having sex without my hands shaking and my stomach turning.

I had no problem with other consenting adults doing it, but I knew that sex was messy. It was complicated and some people used it as a weapon. I was never going to let that happen to me. If I did it, it would be because I wanted to. And I hadn't met anyone who made me want to.

Yet.

He stayed up late on Friday night playing the guitar. I was exhausted from my failed meeting, so I went to bed. He asked me if I minded if he stayed up and played.

“Knock yourself out.”

“You wish, ” he said and played a little tune from a commercial. Haha. I rolled my eyes and put the covers over my head, as if I was blocking him out.

“You know you like it.”

Yes, I did. More than I would ever admit.

I fell asleep to the sounds of guitar strumming.

When I woke up, he was mumbling again. It would have been downright adorable if he wasn't so upset. I considered waking him again, but I didn't want to lose my face. So I let him go and listened.

“Mommy, wake up. Please wake up.” His voice was scared.

I looked around and found a pair of socks that I balled up and chucked them as hard as I could at him. They bopped his shoulder, but he didn't wake up. I tried to find something else. I looked around and found a metal coat hanger on my closet door. I unfolded it and used it as a poking stick to jab him. It took a few tries, but he finally grabbed at the spot where I was poking.

“What the fuck? ” his half-awake voice said.

I quickly threw my poking tool down and pretended I was asleep. I heard him turn over and I could feel his eyes on me.

“Did you just poke me? ”

I decided to play dumb.

“What? ” I said, attempting a sleepy voice.

“You just poked me with something.”

“No I didn't. I was sleeping until a moment ago.”

“No, you weren't. You were poking me with that piece of wire that's sitting on the floor. Very sly, Missy, but I'm not a moron.” He got up, and I heard him picking up my poking device.

“I was talking again, wasn't I? ”

“Yeah, ” I said.

“Don't tell me what I said. I already know.”

“How? ”

“Because I shared a room with my cousin growing up, and at one point he told me what I said.”

“You lived with Mase? ” I asked, turning over. This was the first time he'd talked about his family. It was crazy early to be up on a Saturday, but this was worth getting up for. This was the first time Hunter had initiated talk about himself without me having to attack him for it.

“What happened to your parents? ” I said quietly. I didn't want to scare him off.

He got back into bed. I rolled over, so I faced him. He was sitting up, his back against the wall and his legs over the edge.

“They're dead.” The air left the room, and I found it impossible to breathe. I couldn't find words to say to him. Nothing I said would mean anything.

“Yeah, that's what I thought, ” he said after a few moments of my silence.

“I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to say, so I didn't want to say something stupid. I was trying to think of something to say that wasn't stupid. Guess I failed.”

To my surprise, he laughed.

“You don't have a filter. It's one of the things I like about you. Don't start now. Say whatever you want.”

“I'd say that's one of the saddest things I've ever heard, and it explains a lot.”

“Yes, it does, ” he said, looking down at his hands. “And you're one of the only people who has said they were sorry, and I really believe you. People say things they don't mean all the time. It's easy to spot the bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is.” I was a professional bullshit spotter. It was one of my hidden talents.

“What happened to them? ”

“Someday I'll tell you, ” he said, rubbing the top of his head with his hand, as if he was rubbing a lucky spot. I decided to change tactics and ask another burning question I had.

“Okay, then tell me about your tattoos.”

“I told you I didn't believe in fate; I believe in luck. So I figured, why not have all the luck I can with me? ”

“How many do you have? ”

He turned his arm and showed me the seven. “One, ” he said, and then pulled his left ear so I could see the ink behind it. “Two.” He turned his back and pointed to the one between his shoulder blades. “Three.” He pulled his foot up and showed me another that I hadn't seen before, which was a star. “Four.” He pointed to the one on his chest. “Five. I want to have seven when I'm done, but I only do one when I get the urge, so I haven't gotten one in a few months.”

“What are they? I can't really see from here, ” I said. It wasn't a ploy to get him to come closer in his shirtless state, I swear.

He got off his bed slowly and walked toward me. The look on his face wasn't confident. It was open, as if he was showing me a piece of himself that he rarely shared. I knew this moment was precious, easily broken, like a finger through a soap bubble.

“This one, you can see is a seven. It's a lucky number in many cultures. This, ” he said, pulling his ear forward, “is your standard horseshoe. Sailors used to nail them to the masts of their ships to help them stay out of the path of storms.”

He turned his back, and I finally saw what the one on his back was.

If I hadn't done a project in sixth grade on Egyptian mythology, I might not have known it was a scarab beetle. The beetles would shed their outer skins, carapaces, and the Egyptians saw that as a symbol for rebirth, and thus thought the beetles were immortal.

“You're really mixing up your mythologies there, Z.”

He glanced at me over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at the nickname.

“I'm all for diversity, ” he said dryly.

I got out of bed and went to study it closer. It was beautiful, the colors nearly shimmering on his skin. Whoever he had gotten this from was a real artist. I resisted the urge to reach out and touch it to see if it was real.

“So, there you have it, ” he said, turning around. “And then I just have a little star on my foot. So there you have it, my ink history. Now show me yours.” His mouth turned up at the side, and Mr. Cocky was back. What a shock.

“Sorry, dude, none to show, ” I said, hopping back in bed.

“I wasn't asking about your tattoos, Missy.” He leaned forward and braced his hands on either sides of my legs, almost, but not quite touching my skin. Even though he wasn't touching me, my skin tingled as if he was.

“Why, Hunter, are you asking to see my lady parts? ”

“Asking is putting it mildly, ” he said, and there was the tiniest growl in his voice.

The want to push myself forward and mesh his body with mine was so strong, I had to grab onto the sheets to stop myself from doing it.

“You're just messing with me, ” I said, my voice a little breathy, like I'd just run up the stairs. “You said you didn’t screw girls you liked.”

“Oh, Missy, if you only knew, ” he said. He slowly moved forward until his face was right in front of mine before pulling back and walking out the door.

Damn him. Damn him and his blue eyes and his interesting tattoos and his take-what-I-want attitude. The fact that he had a tragic past just added to the mystery of Hunter Zaccadelli.

*****

“Hey, kid! ” Tawny said, hopping out of her Volvo convertible. I ran to smash her in a hug. I had seen her only a week ago, but I'd missed her.

“Whoa, you okay? ”

I'd hugged her a bit too enthusiastically. She also must have read the tension on my face.

“Let's get you a drink and I'll tell you about it.”

We walked into Margarita's, the only decent Mexican place in downtown Orono. It was crammed between a clothing store that sold fashions for larger women and a real estate office. It was ridiculously narrow, but had two floors so there were plenty of cozy nooks and private places. The tables were hand painted, and there were tons of sombreros and chili lights strung on the wall. Soft music played in the background.

Tawny and I went upstairs and found a table for two in a corner behind a large beam. I ordered a Coke, and Tawny got a margarita.

“I'll give you a sip when no one is looking, ” she said.

I filled her in on the whole Hunter saga while we waited for the waitress to come back so we could order.

“He sounds like an ass, ” was her assessment.

“He is, ” I said, laughing

Tawny paused with her drink midway to her lips.

“Oh, no.”

“What? ” I said, looking around.

“You like him.”

“What? No, I don't.”

She put her drink down, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Yes, you totally do! Jesus, Kid, what are you thinking? ”

“I do not like him, ” I said, lying through my teeth.

“Don't insult my intelligence. I know your face better than anyone else. I also know every single tone of your voice. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you're not lying to me. So, tell me about him.”

“He's...” I said, struggling to find words to describe him, “he's a jerk, and he says whatever is in his head and he is always pushing my buttons and pushing his luck. He says he doesn't sleep with girls he likes, but then he's always coming after me. He's complicated.”

“He sounds complicated. Good-looking? ”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well then, what's the problem? ” she said as the waitress came to take our order.

We paused the conversation. I ordered nachos with extra guac, and Tawny went for the steak quesadillas. I tried to think about my answer to Tawny's question.

“You know what the problem is.”

“Kid, that was so long ago. I got over it.”

“You never get over something like that, ” I said softly.

“No, you're right, you don't. But you learn to live with it. Like a scar. You need to stop hating everyone.”

“I don't hate everyone, ” I said.

“Close, Tay, close.”

I changed the subject, and Tawny let me. We didn't come back to Hunter until we were sharing our fried ice cream, which was ice cream covered in a crunchy topping, with honey drizzled on one side and chocolate on the other. I had the chocolate side.

“What's the worst that could happen? ”

“You know what the worst is, ” I said.

“You can't let one bad apple ruin the whole barrel. There were a lot of signs that I chose to ignore. Does Hunter make you feel unsafe? Is he controlling? ”

“No, ” I said. Hunter had never made me feel like he was going to hurt me physically. Kiss me, yes. But those were two different kinds of fear.

“You know the signs. You know the red flags. Have you seen any of them? ”

“No.”

“Then why not stop being so hostile? ”

“He likes me hostile, I think.”

“Okay, I've gotta meet this guy. I also want to see your new place.”

I hadn't planned on taking Tawny to the apartment. In fact, it hadn't even occurred to me to do so.

“I guess. I can't promise he's going to be there.”

“Text him. I didn't come all the way up here from Belfast and bring your clothes to not see this guy.”

I sighed and pulled out my phone.