Chapter Six
The best thing about Social Media is the filters that make your face all wonky and your voice sounds like a chipmunk.
—Ronnie to Tensanne
Tensanne
HE’S SMILING AT me. One side of his mouth rises further than other. A flaw, I found a flaw in his perfection. His smile is dropping. Oh, he asks me a question.
“So, you want me to just sit there and talk to you? That’s it?” I probe.
“Yes”
“I-I guess I can. If I don’t have to do anything, I’ll meet you at the campus gym.” What the hell am I doing? Why am I agreeing to this? I just couldn’t tell him ‘no’. His eyes looked so happy at the thought of me being there.
His smile tilts all the way up to its blinding, panty-melting position, lighting his sea-colored eyes, “Great, see you then,” he calls backing away from me.
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the class ahead. Another class with Chase Masters. Blowing out a breath slowly, carefully I ascend the icy stairs into the building.
A tall brick building with three floors. A tower spire in the center with pointed capped peaks covered in snow with an American Flag waving from the tallest peak. Lush trees that are divine in the spring but now barren and drab with snow covering their branches, line the lawn.
The inside is warm with shining wet tiled floors, door after door of offices and classrooms line the halls. Taking the stairs to the second floor, huffing and puffing when I reach the top.
Sweat runs down my back into my pants, removing my coat and gloves the cool air chills my over-heated skin. This is the reason I always take the elevator. Exercise is bad for my complexion.
Three girls huddle outside my classroom, giggling, whispering and playing bashful, peeking inside the door. A common occurrence when Chase is in the room. Moving closer I see what they are wearing. My breath catches and dread crawls along my spine. They’re wearing the same shirt I am. Only theirs is fastened behind their backs with a hair tie because it’s too big for their little size two bodies. Each one is little, blonde thinks they’re perfect and a cheerleader. Oh, this isn’t going to go well, I think.
Slow and on my tip toes, I try to secretly inch my way, silently, past them praying they don’t notice me. One of my shoes makes a squelch on the floor drawing all three set of eyes in my direction.
“O-M-G, Bethany, she’s wearing the same shirt we are,” one of the Barbie triplets says.
Fuck, I’m at the damn door. I almost made it.
“Where did you get that shirt?” Bethany spews stepping in front of me.
With my fake smile in place, “I picked it up at the student union, showing my Berries support,” I state giving a thumb’s up. Kicking myself for being such a dork.
“She’s lying, Bethany. Check out the back of it,” the other Barbie clone sneers.
The back, what is on the back of my shirt? Grabbing the material at the shoulder, I can see big black letters across it but I can’t make out what it says.
“You’re wearing Kohl Black’s shirt. Where did you get it? Don’t tell me the union; you can’t get these at the Union. These shirts are reserved for girlfriends, family members, and cheerleaders. No one else is supposed to have one,” Bethany barks, her lip snarled in disgust.
Barbie number one chimes in, “Did you break into Kohl’s room and steal that shirt?”
“Holy shit, you can’t fit any more of her inside of it, Christ, it’s rolling up on the ends. It can’t stretch to cover her fat,” comes from Barbie number two.
Once the insults start, it’s time to get out of the situation. The class is about to start anyway and there is no way I want to piss off Dr. Morgan. “Kohl spilled some coffee on me and I needed a shirt. He had this one handy so he told me I could borrow it so I wouldn’t be late to class. He was being a nice guy. Now I’m going in. You have a good day,” I say with a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes, choking on my words, wanting to kill Kohl for giving me this shirt.
It’s none of their damn business why I have this shirt and the fact that I lied to justify it pisses me off. Why can’t I stand up to these types of people? I need to develop a backbone and tell people like them to fuck off but fear of retaliation keeps me trapped inside my shell.
Why would he give me a shirt with his name on it? One that only a select few are supposed to have? He put a target on me, a target that I’m sure Chase is going to hit in just a few moments. Was his goal to humiliate me?
“I knew he wouldn’t let her keep it, he must have really pitied her to give her that shirt. He’s such a nice guy,” I hear one of them sneer while I walk away.
Feeling their hate weigh on my back like an anvil, I sulk to my lab table that I share with Wren, I set my backpack on the ground and hang my coat on my chair. He’s already working to set up our lab papers and get everything we need ready for class. We don’t need much; this is what we call a digital class.
A Clinical Approach to the Human Brain is a physical study of the psychological mechanics of the brain. It covers the regional anatomy of the brain focusing on neurons, synapses, and neurotransmitters. Right now, we are working with a projection of the brain that pops up from little cameras located in each of our black lab tables. Our little blue brains pop up as Professor Dr. Morgan steps to the front of the room.
Wren hasn’t said anything to me which is unlike him, he’s usually a Chatty Cathy and disrupts my focus. His happy, go lucky demeanor is marred by squinty eyes and a frown.
Whispering so Dr. Morgan doesn’t hear me, “Hey, how are you, Wren?”
He turns his squinty eyes to me, “Nice shirt,” he spits, giving me his back he focuses on his brain.
The Prof drones on about the different pathways and how they affect different parts, ending with giving us a worksheet on what little pieces of squirrelly brain tissues does what job.
While he’s lecturing, my eyes stray to Wren several times hoping for his smile, his witty humor, something that signals he’s still Wren and not a pod person. When Dr. Morgan stops and instructs us to work independently I know this is my chance to find out what the problem is.
Bending, I fish around in my bag for a pen. I smell him before I see him. My nose is assaulted with the scents of cardamom and cocoa, Serge Lutens Borneo 1834 for men or the smell of Chase. Slowly rising I meet his cruel leer prepared for his verbal battering.
“I’m heartbroken, Ten. Have you traded me in for Black already? Did I mean so little to you?” he mocks holding his hand to his heart in mock heartache. “Are you going to show him more than you showed me? Are we going to get another view of Tensanne Craig? I can already see that you’ve upgraded from the last shot we got,” he jeers eyeing the red material of my bra through the white t-shirt.
I feel my ears heating as heat rushes up my neck, infusing my cheeks. My heart beating out of control with fear and anger. Crossing my arms over my chest I try to cover myself. Cursing Kohl for spilling coffee on me and for insisting that I wear this damn shirt.
“Fuck off, Masters,” Wren mumbles.
My head whips to him, my eyes bugging out of my head, I can’t believe what he said. Wren is a little bit of nothing, he couldn’t even fight his way out of a wet paper bag. What is he thinking? Chase will pulverize him for a comment like that.
“What did you say, Worm? I know you weren’t talking to me,” Chase says puffing his chest out, bumping Wren with it, knocking him into the table behind us.
“Come on, Chase,” a low booming voice vibrates when a large body steps in between Wren and Chase.
My eyes travel up and up to the hardened, grim face of Jackson Raines, standing next to Chase. Where Chase is pale, lean and charming, Jackson is tall, stalky, 250 pounds of thick hard corded muscle. Deep chocolate skin covered in ashy ink tattoos, dark charcoal eyes, a bald shining head, the power forward of the basketball team and intimidating as hell. Also, from what I know of him, he’s a man of few words.
Nodding to me, Jackson pulls Chase back to their lab station. Chase cursing and ranting the entire way across the room
Turning to Wren, “Do you have a death wish? What were you thinking?” I whisper yell at him, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What was I thinking? What was I thinking?” he rages starting in a low growl but getting louder with each word. “After everything those guys have done to you, you stand here beside me sporting a shirt that touts Team Squad, a shirt that only privileged people can wear AND it has Black’s name on the back of it. You can clearly see your bra through it and it’s too tight. But you ask me what I was thinking?” he barks.
I’ve never seen Wren this angry and I have known him since we were in diapers. We went to the same elementary school. No, we skipped through the grades of the same elementary school. We graduated from high school together and decided to come to JSU together. I decided to live here on campus while his parents decided to move across the state so he could live at home. He’s my best friend; at times, he was my only friend. We have studied together, we have cried over being bullied together and he was my first. My first kiss, we lost our virginity together and we started college together.
I glossed over that whole virginity thing, huh?
We decided before we left for college it would be better for both of us if we got it out of the way. Wren suggested we experiment with each other. I was curious. Romance novels have polluted my brain with spectacular first times, making it sound magically delicious. There were no hearts, stars or leprechauns. It was awkward, painful, stale and not all that much fun; for me, at least. Wren thought it was the shiznit and couldn’t wait to do it again. “It will be better the next time, if we wait a little bit we can do it again,” he said full of hopefulness.
“I don’t want to do it again. Once was enough, we’re not virgins anymore, problem solved. Now we go back to being friends,” I said. He seemed dejected but he still never got angry with me which is why his rage now is confusing me.
“Yes, I ask what you were thinking. You told Chase to ‘fuck off’. Unless you turned into Superman overnight or figured out a way to ‘Hulk-Out’, that was stupid,” I say.
“You’re not exactly a good judge of stupid, now are you Tensanne?” he sneers.
My jaw drops, I gasp, my heart splits at my oldest friend spewing such venom at me, tears fill my eyes.
Dr. Morgan announces that class is dismissed for the day. Wren hurries to grab his belongings and bolts for the door.
He’s not getting away that easy, I think, grabbing my stuff, wiping away a tear that escaped, I chase him out the door. Stopping when I slam into his back. “Oomph, you’re just going to leave it like that?” I yell to his back. He doesn’t turn to me, so I move to stand in front of him when I see there is already someone in front of him. Kohl is standing in front of Wren. How did I miss him towering over Wren?
“Hey, Wren. How’s it going?” Kohl asks.
They’re facing off like it’s a blinking contest. Whoever blinks first loses. Testosterone floats heavy in the air.
Drawing his shoulders back, puffing out his chest like a peacock, “What are you doing, Black?” Wren spews, spittle flying out of his mouth. He needs to tell me where this courage has come from because I need to find it.
Wiping his face, Kohl responds, “I was coming to take Ten to lunch. Do you have a problem with that, Wren?”
“Yes, you’re my problem with that. Haven’t you already done enough, Black? You and your crony’s need to find someone other than Ten to pick on.” Wren yells.
Forcing a tight smile to Kohl, I grab Wren by the hand and drag him off to the side where I’m hoping Kohl can’t hear.
“What’s going on? Why are you so angry with me and why are you risking getting pummeled by the basketball team?” I ask feeling a few tears trickle down my cheeks, freezing as they fall.
His face softens seeing my tears. Taking off his gloves, he encases my face in his warm hands wiping away my tears with his thumbs.
“Don’t cry, Ten. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore. These are not good guys. They are arrogant, self-entitled, campus Gods that only care about themselves. For some reason, they have set their sights on destroying you and I can’t watch it anymore. First, it was Masters; now it’s Black, then what Raines, Holly, and Clem?”
“What happened with Chase is my fault. I should have known better than to think he would be interested in me. But Kohl seems different. He’s been nothing but polite. I won’t get fooled again. I’m questioning everything he does. We’re talking, Wren. I’m only wearing this because coffee was spilled on my sweatshirt and I didn’t have time to get another shirt before class.”
Sighing, he says, “You’re gorgeous, Ten. There is no reason why any guy wouldn’t be interested in you. Masters had an ulterior motive. I’m not sure what it was but there was a reason he targeted you; a reason he did what he did. Just like I’m sure there is a reason that Black is being nice to you now. Stick with who you know. It’s safer that way.”
“Sticking with who we know makes us no better than them. We’re judging all of them based on who we think they are. Maybe they’re not all assholes. College is supposed to expand our horizons and lead us to meet new people. They can’t all be bad.”
His jaw ticks, anger rages in his eyes, “What-the-fuck-ever,” he curses, “That optimism is what got you in this situation, to begin with. When he stomps on you too and makes you the laughing stock of campus, again, don’t come crying to me. For once in your life I won’t be there to pick up the pieces.” he hisses. His words slice through me like a sword, gasping I fight the hurtful hot tears filling my eyes.
* * *
Kohl
If I appear enough in Tensanne’s rear-view mirror, I may be enough of an annoyance that she will miss me when I’m not around, at least that was what I was thinking when I decided to wait outside her class in hopes of taking her to lunch.
That little troll of a man-child, Wren, is giving me the stink-eye and causing Ten to cry. I don’t like it and I don’t like him.
“You do anything to hurt her, Black, and I’ll find a way to hurt you. She’s better than you’ll ever be and you better treat her that way,” he growls, pointing his finger in my chest.
This dude has some serious balls. I top him by at least a foot and out weight him by at 100 pounds but he’s not afraid. I respect him for standing up for her, even if he’s pissing me off.
“I know she’s better than me, Wren. We’re friends, or at least I hope we will be. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt her, including you. Between the two of us right now, which one has made her cry?” I smirk pushing his hand away.
Throwing his hands up with his jaw clenched tight, he grits, “FINE, I’m the bad guy. See you later, Ten,” he fumes, stomping away.
Ten covers her eyes with her gloved hands and takes a deep breath in. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, she shivers. “Come on, pretty girl, let’s go get something to eat.”
She frowns to my hand resting on her shoulder then meets my eyes. “Pretty girl? Don’t patronize me, Kohl,” she snaps pulling away from me. “Where do you want to eat?”
Damn, she’s a tough nut to crack, “We’ll just go to The Common’s and get something,” I say placing a hand on her lower back, I lead her across the Quad toward The Commons.
“You sure you want to be seen with me, Kohl?” I hate the timid, unsureness in her voice.
But I love the way my name sounds coming out of her mouth. She adds the ‘h’ sound at the end so you hear each letter.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. There is nothing about you that would ever make me ashamed to be seen with you. If anything, you may be at a loss for intelligent conversation if you spend very much time with me,” I grin giving her a wink. My charm doesn’t work, her symmetrical face is still etched with sadness and she is staring at the ground while picking at her glove covered fingernails, shuffling her feet along beside me.
“Why didn’t you tell me what these shirts were? A heads-up would have been nice before I ran into the Barbie cheer squad outside of class, and then Chase in class. Why would you give me a special shirt reserved for certain people?” she questions. “I’ll make sure you get it back but I told you the chest will be stretched now; it won’t fit anyone right unless they have watermelons for boobs,” she rambles. I love it when she rambles, it means I make her nervous. Which means I’m getting inside her even if it’s only in nerves.
Lifting her chin, I bring her eyes to me, instead of fixed to a spot on the ground, “I told you I don’t want it back. It’s yours. Keep it, wear it or use it to clean the toilet, I don’t care; but I want you to have it,” her chocolate brown eyes melt as some tension leaves her body. “I’m sorry if it caused more problems for you; that was never my intention. I liked the idea of you wearing something with my name on the back.” Taking her hand and placing it inside my looped arm, “I don’t know about you but I’m starving, let’s go eat.” She leaves her hand where I placed it and we once again begin walking toward the cafeteria.
Just outside The Commons, a sultry voice calls my name, “Hey, Kohl, whatcha doin?”
Stopping, we turn, Cammie Arnold is standing with one hand on her hip, blonde hair loose and blowing in the wind, skin tight button-down shirt gaped to show the tops of her tits, a short black mini skirt that barely covers her pussy and 4 inch heels covered with a trench coat open in the front. She reaches the other hand to touch my coat covered forearm. Pushing her chest into my bicep. Her little B cups don’t hold a candle to Ten’s melons, but tits on my arm will still get a reaction from Kohl Junior.
“Hey, Cammie. We’re going to grab some lunch.”
Walking her nails up my arm, “How ‘bout we go to my room and you can be my lunch?” she purrs licking her red-tinted lips.
Ten steps out releasing my arm, moving to walk away. Reaching out, I grabbed her gloved hand, stopping her. If I must choose between Ten and Cammie, it’s no contest; I want to spend time with Ten.
“Tempting, Cammie, but I already told Ten we’d go eat.”
Gasping in disgust, she looks Ten up and down stopping at our joined hands. “You’d rather eat with that then go to my room? Are you for real, Kohl? Haven’t you seen enough of her? I know I have; hell, we all have seen enough of that to last a lifetime.”
“Do you know Ten, Cammie? Have you ever spoken to her?” I ask, biting my cheek to control the angry monster inside me that wants to lash out at her for being such a judgmental bitch.
“I don’t want to know her. I’ve seen enough of her to make me puke and I know you have, too. What are you doing, Kohl?”
“I’m having lunch with an amazing girl, Cammie, and it’s not you. Go find Masters, I’m sure he’d love to be your lunch.” I smirk at the look of surprise on her face. Tensanne’s hand trembles in mine, her grip tightening with each word.
Leering at me with daggers in her eyes, “I’ll do that, Kohl. When you get done chubby chasing, don’t come searching for me.”
“Not a problem, Cammie, I never looked for you in the first place,” I hiss. Turning, gripping tight to Ten’s hand we continue to the cafeteria. Hearing Cammie stomp off, her high heels clicking on the sidewalk.
Who the hell wears high heels in the snow?
“You didn’t have to do that; you could have gone with her,” Ten whispers, I lean closer to hear her over the gusting winter wind. Her warm breath heats the shell of my ear sending a pang of desire straight to my crotch.
“Why would I want to be with her when I can be with you?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t know. Because she’s enticing, thin, offers blow jobs for lunch and she’s everything I’m not,” she mutters sadly.
She stands next to me with her shoulders hunched, eyes glaring at the ground as if she wished it would swallow her up so she can disappear. She is clueless about how tantalizing she is, how wonderful she is to be around. I have only begun to peel back her layers and I’m ensnared in her net.
After a moments reflection, I raise her chin forcing her eyes to meet mine, nodding my head I agree, “You’re right. She is everything you’re not. You’re not shallow, slutty, easy and doing the entire basketball team. You’re not dim-witted and air headed. You’re not rude, mean and plastic. She should aspire to be you, not the other way around.”
Shaking her head in disagreement, “I can’t offer what she does.”
“It’s not that you can’t offer what she does, Ten. Hell, any woman can offer sex. What makes you different is you aren’t the type of woman to offer something like that. So, no, Tensanne Craig, you would never offer what she does. You can offer so much more.”
“You can’t know that, you don’t know me. You’ve seen what I did offer and where it got me.”
“I know enough to know that you have more goodness in your little finger than Cammie does in her entire body. Life is full of mistakes; those mistakes shape us and make us learn to be better people so that we don’t make those mistakes again. You were caught up in a web of lies by an egotistical prick; you know not to do that again.”
“Am I making that mistake again with you, Kohl? How do I know you aren’t trying to do the same thing?” she asks.
“I can only ask you to give me a chance to earn your trust. I understand your hesitance and I commend your strength. Keep me on the edge but leave me a small opening to prove I’m worthy of your trust and friendship,” I beg.
I will make this woman see she is as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside. I will make her see she is so much better than the ‘Cammie’s’ of the world. I don’t care if it takes the rest of my college career. She will know exactly how wonderful she is.
Now that I have spoken to her, she’s like breathing fresh clean air. I know I need to be in her life and I’m certain I need her in mine.