Secret Obsession

Becca, over here!” Vera’s red, manicured nails flickered from across liberal arts hall, Austin in tow close behind. Their pearly smiles for her would have been but a dream the year prior, when Becca had still been a soft-spoken wallflower at Jack Hamilton High. College was a fresh start for many, but in her case, hair bleach, finishing off a cycle of braces and entering the social stratosphere of young adult civility had garnered Becca a varsity football boyfriend and sorority queen best friend. She was a transformation fairy tale. She should have been happy.

“Are you two already done for the day?” Becca asked, leaning with them against the poster board of open mic poetry nights and brownie fundraisers. They each had different hours enrolled, but Becca knew that Austin should be preparing for the weekend game and Vera’s condensed Psychology II class went at least three hours.

Austin wrapped an arm around Becca’s waist and pulled her into his side. “Practice is cancelled for the Pi Iota mixer. Coach says we need all kind of morale to balance out the grind.”

Vera’s lacquered lips tightened in amusement. “And I bet no one was willing to argue with him?”

“Not a chance!” Austin chuckled and dipped down to give Becca a short peck on the mouth. She felt nothing. A mere brush of texture. “I thought my keg shopping might go by quicker with a couple of lovely ladies at my side.”

“More like you’re betting on a special discount if we chit chat with some pimply cashier,” Becca bandied, attempting to cover the weight inside her chest. She didn’t want to go anywhere but back to her dorm. She didn’t feel like smiling and forcing polite laughter for Austin and his friends.

Austin let his hand drift down from her waist to her butt, squeezing gently. “Hey, start getting cheeky and I’ll have to get cheeky too.” He was showing off that she was his and adding to the ongoing narrative that they belonged together. No one had to know that he came within minutes and rolled off of her to play on his phone in bed or that he was only capable of talking about football, Pi Iota antics and Adam Sandler movies. All that anyone cared about was that he had a sharp jawline, charisma and muscles. All anyone would remember of her is that she was often seen at his side.

“You guys are so nauseating!” Vera laughed a little harder than the moment called for, likely trying to hook even more rubbernecking from the passing students. “Get a room already!”

With the suddenness of a slap to the face, a hand gripped Becca’s shoulder, sending a bolt of shock through her and making her flinch away from Austin.

“No excessive PDA while you’re on Grand Ridge premises.” Hard, green eyes pierced through square spectacles into her and made the shock of interruption shift into another kind of energy in her spine. One she couldn’t, wouldn’t put a name to. “This is the second time I’ve had to warn you, Miss Coop.”

Peter Lemen. Officially, the student representative and conduct monitor for Grand Ridge; less officially, the campus’s social pariah for upholding his duties with an iron fist, regardless of how popular, rich or untouchable a rule breaker might be. Boys called him “captain cockblocker” and girls simply called him a creep, but it was his pretentious, anti-social demeanor that really offended them. Not once had he accepted a mixer invite, shown up for the season football games or cut a smile. Not once had he changed up his wardrobe of houndstooth dress pants, dark blazers and turtlenecks like some kind of aspiring academic miser.

But it was that very intensity, that dismal contrast to his unique good looks that made Becca’s heart turn over when he glared at her. Black hair framed a boyish face kindled with an ethereal essence in his rosy pale skin and features.

Becca froze her eyes at the shined loafers that ended Peter’s long, lean form. She couldn’t risk giving away anything to any of them. “I’m sorry. I-”

Austin pushed her back behind him as if she needed to be shielded from the harbinger of campus policy. “Don’t apologize to him.”

Austin’s eyes were hard on Peter. “You’re an idiot, man. I’m the one who touched her both times. If you’re going to reprimand someone with your stupid little rules then shouldn’t it be me?”

“Yeah, Becca’s not at fault!” Vera chimed in, following Austin’s lead more than out of a drive to back him up than defend Becca.

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I’d be more than happy to penalize you, but Coach Claey has worked it out so that the rules don’t apply to the brotherhood of the pigskin. I’m forced to get creative and penalize their associations.”

Austin took hold of Peter, nostril flaring but he didn’t flinch or cower. “That’s bullshit. You’re not putting any shit on my friends.”

Becca’s heart raced inside on what to do and out of fear of how far Austin might go before she blurted out, “It’s o-okay! I don’t mind taking the penalty. I know the policy here about as well as anyone else. There’s no use making a scene over it.”

“No, baby, this dude’s a tool. Don’t listen to him.”

Vera just blinked between them dumbly. “What does a ‘penalty’ entail anyway?”

Peter pushed himself out of Austin’s hold and brushed off his blazer sleeves as if Austin’s touch might have left behind some kind of filth invisible to the naked eye. “For second-tier offenses, as in this case, it means a mandatory study hall.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Like detention? You’re really sending an adult woman to detention?”

“We need her for the Pi Iota mixer tonight,” Vera whined, as if Becca joining their grocery tour of the local Wine & Spirits and nursing a beer in a corner all until three am was fundamental to the party’s success.

“It’s that or take it up with the admin office. It’s only your student record at stake.”

Austin and Vera grew quiet at the threat of their campus standing being tarnished. Any injustice they had sensed on their end was a thin wall before their egos and drive for success. Becca always thought they deserved each other.

“Really, guys, it’s fine.” Becca said, stepping between Peter and the two. “I’ve been to so many mixers this year. I could use the quiet time to study for mid-terms.”

Becca wasn’t a theater major, but she had to give herself props for being able to feign off a dutiful sacrifice. Peter was giving her the perfect excuse not to mull around with the empty headed greek house crowd.

Peter’s eyes were on her, searing and fierce once again. “If your martyr gallantry holds out, study hall will be in room 2C in the campus learning center. Be there at 6.”

And with that he left, not giving any of them another chance to further curse his personal brand of institutional discipline.

Vera and Austin muttered their apologies for the day’s turnout and the mixer ahead and left for the keg hunt. Becca knew she shouldn’t be excited to be singled out again by the most hated guy on campus, but her beating pulse followed a dark song of desire. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to deny its pull.