Still, I’m missing them now. Badly. Especially Matt, who wouldn’t dream of putting his hands all over me and dragging me around like Trent did tonight. All except that one time he threw me over his shoulder and raced me to his dorm. The thought puts a contented smile on my face.
“Nice face,” Mollie calls me out. “Did Trent’s lips really feel that good on your forehead?”
I flip her the middle finger and turn down my driveway, longing for the security my CU friends offer me.
Mollie aside, I don’t want to be one of these people anymore.
I’m not sure I want to be one of those people either, thinking through my classes and the people in them.
Sigh.
I miss Matt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Just Tonight
Matt.
One might think that an entire semester of Old Testament class might be able to cover, you know, the whole Old Testament.
That person would be wrong.
Fighting to keep my eyes open in the middle of our second week back from Thanksgiving break, I’m also fighting to rid my mind of the images from that night at The Pink Pony.
I can’t ever do that again.
Whatever high I thought I felt that night while falling asleep was obliterated by sickening regret as soon as the sun rose. I didn’t sleep much that night, and what sleep I did get was littered with dreams of images I shouldn’t be seeing anywhere, never mind my subconscious. The next morning it was easy enough to lie my way out of why I hadn’t shown up at the Homecoming party.
Of course, Brad Jenks’ mom had called my mom, asking where I’d been. With a simple wave of my hand, I told them I ended up going out for a drive, exhausted from a long semester at school.
I couldn’t look my mom in the eye.
Right now, though, the only thing keeping my eyes open and focused during class is Kennedy. She’s taken to sitting next to me every class, and even though I haven’t talked that much with her since we arrived back on campus, it’s comforting to have her nearby.
With her eyes forward on the professor, she lightly elbows me and slides her notebook to the left side of her desk, allowing me to see her writing on the page: You’re staring at me. Don’t be weird. Flickering my eyes back to her face, I watch half of her mouth turn up into a grin.
To be honest, I’ve thought she’s been a bit weird since break. Quieter, not scrunching her eyebrows and forehead as much, and seemingly more peaceful. Not that I don’t want any of these things for her, but she’s not really indicated a reason for the sudden change in her demeanor.
I have a million things I want to write back to her. Like, of course I’m staring at you, you’re gorgeous. But, that would be inappropriate. I have no business going after a preacher’s daughter. Not when I think God can take a flying leap. Even if I don’t know exactly where Kennedy’s heart’s at right now, I know where mine is, and no one should come within ten-feet of it.
I haven’t prayed in weeks. During nightly floor prayers, my mind keeps going back to the girls on the stage at the strip club. How did they get there? Why are they staying there? What did I hope to find there? I know I said I could never go there again, but, really, I’m visiting that place in my mind every few minutes—seconds—during the day. Maybe I really am exactly like my father, after all. Some sick anti-hero in God’s bullshit of a play.
“Mr. Wells?” Professor Towne calls from the front of the room.
Because he can’t ever just leave me alone.
“Yes sir?”
“You’re looking a little ill. Are you feeling okay?”
Chairs creak as the entire class turns back to assess me. Casting a side-glance at Kennedy, I clear my throat and stand.
“No. Sorry, Professor Towne, but I have to go.” Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I step over the back of my seat and beat it to the nearest exit.
I have two hours to kill before my next class, and usually have lunch soon, but I’m far from hungry right now. Lowering my head, I begin my trek across campus. I don’t make it far before I hear Jonah’s voice.
“Matt, wait up,” he calls calmly.
I like Jonah, and have no reason to want to be an ass to him, so I stop my feet and turn around. Unfortunately, Silas is with him. It’s not like I don’t like Silas—okay, I don’t like Silas. He’s massively uptight and always looks at everyone like he’s better than they are. I should cut him a little slack, though, since he seems to have loosened up a bit since break.
It’s amazing what can happen in four days.
“You guys should still be in class.” I nod toward the building I just exited.
“Professor Towne excused us,” Silas says. “He wanted us to make sure you were okay.”
I meet Jonah’s eyes, look at Silas, and back to Jonah. Trying to ask Jonah what, exactly, Silas is doing here. Jonah shoots me a sympathetic grin and offers a shrug, seeming to completely understand my thoughts. I don’t even know what I would say to Jonah if we were alone, but I know it’s roughly a hundred-times worse than what I’ll say with Father Silas here.
“Look, Silas,” I huff, “I’m not in the mood for a mini sermon right now, okay?”
Silas’ eyes fall to the sidewalk and he closes his eyes, taking a slow breath.
“I know,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, man.”