The thought of losing my precious Cobra, let alone what my father would do to me if I did, weighs heavily on my mind. Fortunately, Vanessa is much different than other girls I’ve met before. She has a quirky spunk I find amusing. I need to be sure this date with her is something that will keep her around for a month. No way am I losing my sweet car, I don’t care how hot the girl is. A vanilla relationship: I’ve gotta keep my dick in my pants and the whips and chains out of the bedroom for four weeks. No problem.

I arrive home and see the light is on. Tony left the party early, I guess, while Darren stayed the night.

I park the car, hop out, and walk up the front porch steps. Tony is sitting in the dark as I walk inside.

“Kinda creepy, dude. What are you doing?” I ask, throwing my keys on the entry table.

“I’m thinking,” he growls sounding upset.

“About?” I walk over to where the switches are and flip them on. Tony covers his eyes as if he has never seen the light before.

“Man, that’s bright. What the fuck?”

Why is he so upset?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… Well, do you remember that chick I liked a few months ago?”

I don’t, but pretend I do. “Sure, yeah.”

“Well, tonight she was with some other motherfucker.”

“That bites.” I’m at a loss for words. I mean, there are plenty of girls out there—why is he hell-bent on just one?

There is a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table. I glance to Tony to assess his eyes. Yep, he’s drunk. He runs his hands through his dark hair as I sit on the chair then leans his head back on the couch, raises an arm up into the air, and crashes his arm down, shouting, “Screw bitches!”

“Yeah, that’s right. Screw ’em.”

Tony slouches on the couch, and I help him to his feet. As I carry him to his room, I realize I’ve been really wrapped up in myself the past few months. I have been just slipping by, not really noticing the world around me.

I throw Tony on his bed and shut the door. I head into my room and turn out the light. Exhaustion sets in from the beach party exertion, while Vanessa’s body drifts up from my memory and I close my eyes.

The sun rises a little too quickly, and I have a hangover. I stumble around my room as the light comes shining through the curtains and blinds me. Throwing on shorts and a T-shirt, I head into the kitchen. Darren is in the living room as I pass by. He calls out, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Coffee,” I grumble. My heart beats through my head, and my mouth is dry. I need my caffeine fix to help wake me this morning. Darren heads into the kitchen in his sweat pants and white tank top. Messy hair and crumpled clothes are sure-fire signs that he hasn’t been to bed.

“So, how was your night?” I ask.

“Got laid. That is always a plus. Did you get anywhere with Vanilla Vanessa?”

“Vanilla what?” I look over at him as I pour water in the coffee maker.

“We nicknamed her Vanilla Vanessa.” He laughs.

“Well, actually, I have a date tonight, so I guess that’s good.” I turn the coffee pot on and wait for it to start.

“A date, fuck yeah.” He slaps me on the back and walks out of the kitchen.

I take the coffee and head to my room. The menial task of getting ready is a tad harder with a hangover, but I manage. School isn’t going to attend itself.

Arriving to school a little early, I wander through the lecture hall building. My classroom is near the end; a few students mill around a department notice board in the hall. As I walk into class, my professor turns to me and says, “Good morning, Trace.”

“Hi, Professor Cahill.”

“Did you do the assignment?”

“You know I did,” I say with a cocky grin. Assignment? I head to my desk and open my book and notes. Written in my sloppy handwriting is a note about a paper due on “what are the ethical actions of people in power?”

The due date is written in bold print and circled three times. When I last shut this notebook on Friday morning and then left class, I never opened it again. I shrug my shoulders and turn on my charm to get a make-up date.

“Professor Cahill,” I say, moving close to speak with him. His bald head shines in the fluorescent lights, his spectacles sit low on his nose, and he’s dressed in a tweed coat and classic bowtie.

“Yes, Trace.” We’re the only two people in the room so far. Tapping a finger on his desk, I smile.

“I’m wondering if, maybe, I can get a make-up date.” I rub the back of my neck.

“Oh no, did something happen?” A look of concern crosses his features. Guilt thickens in my throat.

I swallow and continue. “Actually, my father had me working for him this weekend.”

My father is on the board of the college, and everyone knows him. Bowing to him is a specialty of the staff, and I always use it to my advantage.

“Oh, I see. Okay, Trace, just try to have it done soon.” His smile reaches his eyes.

“Absolutely, Mr. Cahill. I’m sorry.” I give him my most sincere grin and return to the desk.

After I listen to the professor drone on about ethics, class finally lets out. I’m headed down the hall to my next class when I spot Jordan walking my way. He’s on the phone and appears angry.

“No! No! I said it should have been delivered by today,” he barks into the phone.

He continues to rush down the hall, and I have to dive out of his way to avoid a collision. He doesn’t even see me as he passes, still yelling at the top of his voice.

I had two hours before my last class of the day. Heading to the coffee shop on campus, I plug in my earbuds and pull out my Calculus book. Study time, or at least that’s what I should be doing.

A few friends of mine are in my next class; we all scheduled together. It’s also the class where I met Hailey, and I’ve been dreading seeing her.

As I take a seat, I see someone I’ve never seen in this class until now. Has she always been here? Hailey walks over and raises her arms around my neck.

“Hi there,” she says, kissing my cheek. Her brown hair falls over her eyes, and she removes a hand to brush it back in place. Then she wiggles to her seat in tight pink shorts.

Craig and his friend Ashton stride over, and I nod my head.

“Hey, Trace, are you coming out with us later?” Craig says, ogling Hailey’s low-cut shirt as she reaches into her book bag.

Hearing this, she pops up her head. “Oh yeah, where are you guys heading?”

“A bar downtown. Sofa Kings,” Craig says, smiling back.

“Sofa Kings? Never heard of it,” she says, flinging her hair over her shoulders.

Ashton chimes in, smiling, “Ya know, Sofa Kings, where the drinks are sofa-king cheap, and the girls are sofa-king hot.”

She laughs, hearing the play on words, and it makes my skin crawl. Craig and Ashton wait for my answer.

“Nah, man, can’t tonight,” I say, pulling out my book.

“Oh right, he’s got a hot date. Darren told me about it earlier.”

“Glad my personal life is so important to everyone.”

“Well, yeah, after Friday night. We all wanna know how it’s going. How is she?” Craig asks.

I cringe, hearing his words, and chance a glance at Hailey. She frowns, wondering what we’re talking about. Shaking my head, I grumble, “Shut the hell up.”

“Why don’t you bring her by?” Craig laughs.

“Like hell I will.” I slam my book, letting everyone know how done the conversation is. I turn in my seat, and Craig and Ashton plop down in the desks near me. Hailey opens a notebook and takes out a pen as the professor tells us to get ready for the lesson.

After class is dismissed, I rush to get out without explaining to Hailey, Craig, or Ashton. I bolt out the door but am not fast enough.

“Hey, Trace! Wait up,” Hailey calls, rushing to catch me. She slings her backpack over her shoulders and runs her hand through her long hair.

Reluctantly, I turn around. “What’s up?”

“So, what are you doing tonight? Did you want to go to Sofa Kings?” She smiles, batting her eyelashes.

Did she not hear the conversation in the classroom?

“Can’t tonight, I’m busy.” I turn to walk away, and she reaches out to grab my arm.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting too long. We used to have a lot of fun together, remember?”

“Listen, you’re a blast, but right now is not a good time.”

“Oh, okay.” She turns to walk away.

As I get into the Cobra, I pull out my phone. One missed call. For a second, I silently beg the universe to let it be Vanessa. Then I look at the screen and see it’s a missed call from my father.

I dial his number. On the second ring, I hear my father’s voice on the line.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Dad, I missed your call. What’s up?”

“Just letting you know that Carlo will meet you tonight to give you the keys. Be careful, and don’t have her out too late.”

“Sure thing, Dad. Thanks,” I say, hanging up the phone.