Home > My Favorite Mistake (My Favorite Mistake #1)(3)

My Favorite Mistake (My Favorite Mistake #1)(3)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“No shit.” She sighed, and I could hear her munching on something. “Don't you think you should talk to someone again?” She'd asked me the same thing at least a thousand times.

“Because that worked so well before. No, thank you.”

Tawny sighed again. I finally found my car, Sassy, a red Dodge Charger, in the lot and hit the unlock button. I sat in the driver's seat with the door open, chatting with Tawny about moving in and stupid stuff. Anything but Hunter.

I could talk to her for hours every day and still find something to say. We were six years apart, and we were as close as two people could be without being twins. Not that our personalities were similar, because they weren't. Tawny was prettier, smarter, more well-liked. I was shorter, not as pretty and angry. I didn't try to be so angry, and I wasn't most of the time, but sometimes it just happened. Hunter had made it happen today.

“When are you coming up to see me?” I asked.

“Probably this weekend. Lunch date at Margarita's?” It was one of our favorite semi-chain Mexican restaurants.

“You're on. Hey, I completely forgot to bring that cute pair of pj pants and the top that goes with it. Can you stop by the house and get them for me?”

“I guess so. You gonna buy my lunch?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Hey, I have to go, but call me tonight. Call me before you punch someone again, okay? You're going to have to rein it in if you're going to live with this guy. Also, you should probably ice your hand.”

“I'm not living with him.”

“Yeah, babe, you kinda are. Unless you win that bet. How the hell are you going to get out of that one?”

“I have no f**king clue. I didn't technically agree to it.”

“I think you punching and kicking him in the balls was sort of a handshake.”

“Whatever. I'll call you later. Text me if you want.”

“Bye, Kid.”

“Bye, Tawn.” I clicked my phone off and rested my head on my steering wheel. What the f**k was I going to do?

Three

I didn't go back inside until my hand hurt so much that I desperately needed ice. The living room was quiet when I snuck in. Most of the boxes were gone, and Darah was unpacking her pots and pans in the kitchen.

“Hey, are you okay? We were kinda worried about you. Hunter, Renee and Mase went to get pizza.”

“I'm fine. Just need some ice,” I said, holding up my hand, which was purpling all over my knuckles.

“Oh my God,” she said, running to the freezer. Luckily, someone had left an ice pack in the freezer that maintenance had forgotten to clean out. She wrapped it in a dish towel she took out of one of the boxes and handed it to me.

“How's his face?” I kind of wished I’d messed it up, just a little.

“You got him pretty good. He's already getting a bruise.” Score.

“Did his nuts recover?”

“I think he'll be able to have children someday,” she said, studying me as if I was going to freak and do it again. She leaned on the counter, her organizing abandoned for now. “What happened? All he'd tell us is that he said something that pissed you off and that he deserved it.”

“He said that?” I winced as the cold ice met my burning hand. I was surprised. I thought he'd blame everything on me and call me a psycho bitch. In the back of my mind I had a tiny ray of hope that my display of violence would freak him out so much his stuff would be gone when I got back. No such luck.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Huh.”

Voices drifted down the hall. Familiar voices. I turned around, and they stopped when they saw me. Hunter had two pizza boxes, and Renee carried two bags with chips and soda. Mase had what probably was some beer, cleverly concealed in two layers of shopping bags.

“Hey,” I said to all of them.

They entered cautiously, in a way that was almost funny. I was both the shortest and youngest person in the room, but they were wary of me.

“How's your hand?” Renee said, setting the bags down on the dining table.

“Fine,” I said. She started examining it anyway, and I looked at Hunter. “How's your face? And your balls?” I cracked a smile, hoping it wasn't too crazy looking.

Hunter grinned back at me.

“Both will recover, I think. You've got a hell of a hook, Missy,” he said, touching his jaw. There was an impressive-looking bluish mark starting. Nice.

“I misjudged you, I think. Respect,” Mase said, coming over and holding his hand up for a fist bump. I gave him one with my left hand, and he gave me a wink. Guess the cocky behavior was genetic.

“I got this one with all the veggies. Wasn't sure what you liked,” Hunter said, holding out one of the pizza boxes toward me. Everyone held their breath as I took the box from Hunter. Hell, it was more delicious than an olive branch.

“Olives,” I said. “I hate olives. Everything else is fair game.”

“Shall we?” Renee said, now that the tension was broken.

“Sure,” I said, cracking open the box.

The heavenly scent of Pat's pizza filled my nose. It had been the same recipe for however many years it had been open, serving hungry, hung over or stoned college students for decades. Somehow they had found the perfect ratio of cheese to sauce to thin crust to toppings. A perfect ratio, which was why they'd survived for so long in a town that had at least twelve pizza places per college student.

“Have you unpacked the plates yet?” Renee said to Darah.

Rummaging for plates, napkins and cups ensued and somehow we all ended up on the living room floor with paper plates, paper towels and Solo cups with soda or beer. I wasn't a big beer fan, so I stuck with soda. Darah, Renee and Mase were all 21 and joked about me and Hunter being underage. Hunter was only a few months older than me at 20, while I was the baby at 19.

Turned out Hunter was also a business major; what a surprise. The only other major I would have picked for him would have been broadcasting so he could be a sports reporter and watch as many games while getting paid to do it. Mase was the biggest surprise. His major was international relations. Apparently he wanted to go work overseas as a diplomat or something. His real name was Johnathan Mason III, which explained the nickname.

“What's your major?” Mase asked, winding some cheese around his finger.

“How about we guess?” Hunter said.

Didn't I just punch him in the face? Was he asking for it again? I gave him a look, but he just picked up another piece of pepperoni and chewed thoughtfully.

“Education? No, that can't be it. Not advertising. Boxing? Nursing? How about Electrical Engineering?”

I just rolled my eyes.

“Tell me what it is then.” The cocky smile returned, as if it had never left his face.

“Women's studies,” I said, picking off another offensive olive and setting it on my plate.

“Huh,” Hunter said.

“No smart comments? Not gonna ask me if I'm a lesbian?”

Mase snorted. Renee rolled her eyes. I should really tone it down.

“Are you?” Hunter raised one eyebrow. There were always jokes about the women's studies department being a bunch of men-hating lesbians. I'd chosen the major for a different reason, but he was never going to know about that.

“What if I was?” I said it slow.

Mase snorted his beer through his nose and choked. Darah banged him on the back. Yes, I still wanted Hunter gone, but I wanted to torture him a little as payback first.

“That would be one of the sexiest things you've said to me. Even if it isn't true.” He leaned forward, a predatory look on his face. The room started to get hot, and I took a sip of my soda so I could stop looking at him.

“What is it with men and lesbians? I've never understood the attraction.”

“Are you kidding? Two women together is super hot, unless they're butch. Then not so much,” Mase said.

“But lesbians generally don't want men, so why would you be attracted to them?” Darah said.

“Doesn't matter to me, I'd be happy to watch,” Mase said, bumping shoulders with Darah. She rolled her eyes.

“It's because the female body is beautiful. It's a work of art. All curves and softness. You double it and you just have double the beauty.” Hunter looked right at me as he said it.

“Double your pleasure, double your fun,” Mase said and we all laughed.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the night? Hooking up the XBox?” Mase said to Hunter.

“You have an XBox?” Renee said. She was a closet gamer and had been searching for a used one on the campus message board forever.

“Yeah, I have a Kinect, too.”

“Please tell me you have Skyrim. Please, please,” Renee said, clasping her hands. I blamed Paul for her gaming addiction.

Hunter proceeded to produce the device, and they spent the next hour hooking it up and playing Skyrim.

Mase said he had stuff to do, so he left, saying he'd be back again. Lovely.

I went to unpack the rest of my room and text Tawny.

The rest of the afternoon was spent getting everything into drawers and making my bed and figuring out where to fit everything, including the massive amount of books I'd brought. I wished I could have moved off campus, but I had a scholarship that was specifically for on-campus housing, so I was stuck. With Hunter, apparently. He stayed out with Renee and Darah, which was great. I kept shoving his stuff out of my way, irritated, but at the same time curious as to what else was in the footlocker. Maybe it was a body.

Darah knocked on the door and asked if I wanted to go to the grocery store with her to get some provisions. I was itching to get out of the tiny space, so I grabbed my keys and got some cash from everyone and made a list.

“You need any help?” Hunter said.

“Do I look like I do?”

“Not really, but I figured I'd be an ass if I didn't ask.”

“You're an ass anyway.”

He nodded and went back the game. He was probably ready for another punch soon.

*****

I came back loaded down and found the apartment in chaos.

“Hey, we're going out to Blue Lagoon, you want to come?” Darah was sliding long silver earrings into her ears and had changed into skinny jeans and a glittery silver top.

“I can't. Not 21,” I said, pointing to myself.

Blue Lagoon was the current name of the club right off campus. It kept getting shut down due to underage kids getting in, or too many bloody fights. Sometimes both. It had a new owner, but I didn't hold out that this one would last any longer than the previous.

“Crap, I forgot. Sorry.”

A blow-dryer sounded in the bathroom. Oh, this must be serious if Renee was straightening her hair.

“Where's Hunter?” I hated saying his name out loud.

“Hunter? Don't know. His cousin came back, and they went off somewhere. He said he'd be back before we left.” She winced as she shoved one of her earrings in.

“He's not 21 either.”

“You know he probably has a fake ID.” Yeah, he probably did. “Maybe we can sneak you in.”

“No, it's fine. I'll just hang out here. Maybe I'll call Megan and see if she wants to come over.”

Megan was a friend from my women's studies classes I'd gotten close with last year and the only other person I’d actually call a friend. She lived with her boyfriend in an off-campus apartment, but his friends were always crashing there so she was always desperate for girl time.

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