Love, Ally by Hannah Gray

three

Ally

Walking toward my dorm with my earbuds in, I can’t help feeling like I’m wandering. Wandering through this campus, wandering through the days, wandering through my life.

As “The Freshmen” by The Verve Pipe filters out of the tiny speakers and into my ears, images of Cole Storms flash into my brain, and they don’t stop. Creating the most heartbreaking yet beautiful slide show in my mind.

That grin with the single dimple in his left cheek that always made it so damn hard for me to stay mad at him for long. Those eyes that were forever changing between blue and green, depending on the weather … or his mood.

I was never that girl who wanted to bask in the misery of painful memories. In fact, I would have made fun of other girls a few years back for doing this type of shit. In my own head, of course, not out loud. Yet here I am, throwing myself into this deep pit of despair, rolling around in it like it’s a fucking field of flowers.

It’s pathetic—I know that it is. But torturing myself with the memories of what I’m missing is the only way that I feel close to him. The only way I feel close to anybody.

I long for his touch, and I yearn for his kiss. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can almost feel him here with me. But when I open them up, I’m brought back to the harsh reality that I’ll likely never see him again.

I just want my heart to feel something, anything, besides the aching feeling that it does. And he’s the only one who can do that. He’s the only one who can make me whole again.

But I will admit, now that I’m at Brooks University, I do see a glimmer of hope. It’s small, but it’s there.

The second week of classes is nearly over. And aside from my schoolwork, I’ve also started a job. It’s at a restaurant right off campus, called Lenny’s. So far, I’m enjoying it. It’s usually just me and one other waitress, Carla. I absolutely love her. She’s a mom of three teenage boys, and she enjoys smoking cigarettes, coffee, and cussing. I feel like we’re a friendship made in heaven.

A part of me feels like she’s the mother I wish I’d had. She’s far from perfect, but she loves her boys more than life. I pray that, one day, they understand how lucky they are to be loved like that. To be loved in such an unconditional, selfless way. What a gift that would be.

When I first met her and Lenny, the owner, I knew that they were good people. I knew that they had been put in my path for some sort of purpose. I don’t trust easy, but with them, I just knew they weren’t going to do anything to hurt me.

Because of the fact that I’m sort of an orphan who has pretty kick-ass writing skills, which helped me write sob stories to colleges on why they should give me a scholarship, my schooling is free. And despite me being a proud person, I don’t feel bad about the handout. Life has kicked me in the vagina so many times that I’ll set my pride aside for a free college degree.

While I might be tuition-less when it comes to college, for things like clothing, food, and other essential items, I’ll need cash. So, getting a job was my only option. And besides, I like to keep myself occupied at all times. If I sit in idle mode, that’s when the weight of everything bears down. And that’s when I think about him.

And that damn dimple.

Turning the key, I push open the door to our dorm to find Sloane sitting on her bed, holding her Kindle.

Looking up, she pulls her reading glasses off. “Hi.” She smiles.

“What’s up?” I answer back while setting my bag down.

“Not much. But I’m glad you’re home. I have, like … a huge favor to ask.” Standing up, she paces around nervously. “Huge.”

I frown and walk over to the refrigerator. Pulling out a can of Diet Coke, I pop it open and take a sip, sighing. Diet Coke … the crack of my life.

Turning my attention back to my weirdly anxious roommate, I raise a brow. “Do you have scabies?”

Her eyes widen. “What? No!”

“Fungus?”

“Wha—”

“Oh.” I widen my eyes. “I see, you’ve got the syph …”

“Syph?” she says, scrunching her nose up.

“You know, syphilis. A rash, fever, perhaps a headache.” I shrug when her eyes grow to the size of saucers. “I paid attention in wellness class.”

“Well, no! I do not have any of that … that … disgusting stuff!” she practically squeals. “What is wrong with you?!”

I love that everything makes her blush. She is the opposite of me. It takes a lot to embarrass me.

I grin. “I’m just kidding. I was just giving you shit for being nervous.”

“Har-har. Sooo funny, smart-ass.”

Plopping myself on the bed, I give her a tight-lipped smile. “All right, girlfriend, why the hell are you moving around so much, like you’ve got ants in your pants?” I ask, leaning back on my elbows. I can tell she’s nervous, which also makes me nervous because I don’t know what the hell she’s going to ask me as a favor. “Why are you so nervous to ask me whatever it is?”

“I … need you to go on a date with me,” she murmurs, biting her nails—something I’ve noticed she does a lot.

A cough escapes my throat even though I try to hold it in. I did not think I gave her the vibe that I was into her. And I sure as shit didn’t pick up on her being into me. Maybe I’m misunderstanding her. Either way, it’s totally cool. I’m just into the D, not the V. Making this awkward.

“Like … with you? As in a date with … just you and me? Or …” I ask, needing clarification. “Because, well, I’m flattered and all, but—”

Her mouth hangs open as she realizes what I’m saying. “Oh, no, not like that!” She waves her arms around. “God, no! I’m not asking you out, Ally.”

Holding my free hand up, I almost choke on my Diet Coke. “Sorry, we don’t know each other that well. I wasn’t sure what you meant by that. Wanted to double-check, you know? Just to be extra sure we were on the same page.” Circling my hand around, I give her an apologetic smile. “Please, carry on.”

Shifting back and forth on her feet nervously, she sighs. “There’s this guy, Knox. He’s in one of my classes, and … he asked me to go to a movie with him. I wasn’t really comfortable with meeting up with some guy I barely know.” She pauses, giving me a pointed look. “You know, Lifetime movie shit can really happen. Kidnappings and stuff.”

I nod slowly, keeping my eyes trained on her. “Yeah … not really seeing where I come into this …”

“I told him I wanted to bring a friend, so then he said he wanted to bring a friend, and now, well … I guess we’re both bringing friends,” she says, covering her face with her hands, baby-pink polish on her perfectly manicured nails.

Me? I’m rocking dark blue, and they are most likely already chipped. Fifty-cent nail polish doesn’t typically last very long. But I still think I should get an A for effort because in my opinion, painting nails is a pain in the balls.

Pushing myself up, I tilt my head to the side. “So, let me get this straight. One dude could kidnap you and lock you in his basement. But because you bring a friend … and he brings a friend, that shit won’t happen? Like, no skinsuits or creepy basements? You know, the ones with the door that lifts up on the outside of the house.” I watch too much Dateline.

“Well, I mean, if he’s a psychopath, he’s less likely to act like one in front of three other people. I doubt his friend would know if he was a mass murderer. In the Lifetime movies, the friends never know.”

“Or”—I point my finger at her—“hear me out. Maybe the friend is also a skinsuit, lock you in the basement freak too? Maybe together, they are just a team of Craigslist killers? Maybe that is what’s going on here.”

She shakes her head and laughs. “Don’t be absurd, Ally. Wow, how much Lifetime do you watch?”

My mouth hangs open, and I literally have to push it shut. The nerve this chick has. She’s the one who brought up Lifetime and dragged me into her awkward first date. Now, I’m absurd?

But so far, she’s been giving me really good vibes, and she seems like she’s going to be a great friend. Besides, I could use some over-buttered popcorn and sugary candy right now.

Let’s not forget about delicious, bubbly fountain Diet Coke either.

“When?” I ask wryly. Thinking she likely means tomorrow or this weekend. Maybe I’ll be working and have an excuse not to go. That will be a sure sign from above that I should not have to go on this double date.

Looking at her watch, she suddenly rushes to her dresser. “We need to leave in ten minutes!”

There I sit, mouth hanging open yet again. “Tonight, Sloane? To-fucking-night?”

“Sorry!” she yells over her shoulder before turning back toward me. “By the way, you have the worst potty mouth. Like … ever.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to work on that,” I quip back.

“Really?” She sounds surprised.

“Fuck no,” I say dryly.

She giggles. “It’s okay. I sort of like it anyway. You keep things interesting, for sure, Allycat.”