Falling for Autumn (2 page)

Arms were roughl
y grabbing at me. They locked my body in place. I tried to scream, but my throat closed up, resulting in only a whooshing sound. Panic rose up and the need to have my body freed from its prison was more than I could take. I wanted to fight, it was the only way I could escape, but my limbs wouldn’t cooperate. The force holding me down was too powerful and I despised the helplessness of the situation. I needed to break free. It was the only way I’d survive—

An insis
tent ringing sounded in my ears, forcing me out of the nightmare. My heart pumped wildly as I blindly reached for my cell phone on my nightstand. “Hello,” I croaked.

“Autumn
, honey, are you okay?”

My mom’s reassuring voice
had an instant soothing effect. I’d seen her a couple of days earlier when my parents helped me move back to campus, but I already missed them terribly. They’d been my calm during so many of my storms the past couple of years.

“I’m fine. Just another nightmare,” I confessed.

“Have you been taking the Xanax Dr. Fabian prescribed?”

“
I’m trying to deal with the anxiety without it,” I said.

“Honey, don’t try to be a martyr. If the pills help you, don’t be afraid to use them.”

My mom was right, but I’d become hesitant about using the anti-anxiety medication. I didn’t want to become reliant on pills. I had to learn how to cope with the feelings on my own. My therapist, Dr. Fabian, told me to redirect my emotions into something positive when faced with anxiety. But sometimes the panic hit me like a tidal wave and pulled me out to sea. Those were the times I struggled the most. 

I glanced at the time, and a groan escaped
. It was after nine and I had a nine-thirty class on the opposite side of campus. I looked over at the twin bed on the other side of the room and found it empty. Lexi must’ve cut out early this morning. It would take a couple of weeks until we became accustomed to one another’s spring class schedules.

“Mom, I have to go. It’s my first art history class and I don’t want to be late.” My mother clicked off only after I
made promises to call her and to take the medication if I needed it.

Jumping out of bed, I grabbed
a gray sweater and a pair of leggings from my closet and slipped on a pair of gray boots. The dorm room I shared with Lexi was utilitarian with doubles of each piece of furniture: two twin beds, two desks, two chairs, and two dressers. We shared a single closet, each taking one side to store our clothing.

We had moved the furniture around when we first arrived to maximize the space. Both of our beds were set on opposite sides of the room next to the double windows.
Lexi’s desk sat between the beds while my desk was to the left of the room at the foot of my bed. Our dressers were placed side by side against the right wall with a small television angled on top to allow both of us to watch while lying in bed.

Lexi
was a fan of vibrant reds and I coordinated my sheet set to match hers. Her side of the room was filled with all of her great loves: a poster of Paris at nighttime, a photo collage of her with her best friends from back home, and a Cook University school flag. The walls on my designated side of the room were empty, reflecting how I saw my insides. I was waiting to find something inspiring enough that I’d want to stare at it for the next five months. 

While brushing my teeth in front of the mirror, I noticed
the exhaustion ever present in my features. I used a coat of mascara to bring out the golden brown shade of my eyes and applied scarlet lipstick to put color back into my pale full lips. After running a brush through my unruly dark blond hair and securing it with a clip, I hustled out of my room. My hair fell in waves down to my mid-back and it took me at least an hour to get it to cooperate and not look as if I’d been stuck outside during a hurricane.

On my way across campus, I rechecked my schedule for the building and room number of my class.
Cook University’s academic buildings were arranged in a circular pattern on one side of the campus with the dormitories set on the other side. It was about a fifteen-minute walk to get from the dorms to most classes and I increased my pace to get to the arts building on time.

Art history was
a required general ed class. Since I was torn over my major, I decided to take the general education courses I needed during my freshman and sophomore years, hoping a few electives would help me find my niche.

Breezing into class with a few minutes to spare, I
stopped just inside the doorway, scanning the room to see if I recognized anyone. A few students started to gather behind me and I hurried forward while trying to find the nearest empty desk.

“Autumn, over here,” a voice called to
my left. Following the direction of the voice, I groaned inwardly as I saw Blake gesturing at me. He set a pencil on the desk next to him as I took slow and measured steps to the back of the classroom. Typically, I sat at the front, but an invisible force pulled me to him. Based on our awkward first meeting, I was surprised by my willingness to go anywhere near him.

A petite
girl with dark curly hair reached the chair before I did. As she moved to sit next to Blake, he gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Laura, I promised Autumn I’d save her a seat.”

Laura spun around and I saw heat flare in her dark eyes
as she appraised me from head to toe. She was beautiful, with full red lips and round eyes with midnight black lashes. If Blake was passing her over for me, he was a fool. Before I could offer up the chair to her, she darted to the other side of the room. I barely knew Blake and it was already the second awkward situation I found myself in with him.

“Thanks,”
I mumbled. Placing my backpack next to my chair, I felt Blake watching me as I pulled out a notebook and opened it. I shifted in my seat. “So, art history, huh?”

“Yeah, it was either this or intro to art and I suck at drawing. Once I finish this and my philosophy class, I’ll have all the general
ed classes I need for graduation.” He leaned back into his chair, forcing me to turn around to address him. His long legs stretched in front of him, and an air of confidence surrounded him.

“What’s your major?”

“Economics,” he answered. “Once I’m done playing football, I’ll probably go for my MBA.”

“Are you any good?”

“What? At football?” he asked with surprise evident in his expression. While he seemed to mull over my question, I studied his features once again. The dim lighting at the party hadn’t done him justice. His eyes were an even more vibrant green than I’d realized, with darker flecks swirling in their depths. His light-brown hair was absurdly messy, but looked perfectly styled at the same time.

“Yeah
,” I replied.

“I’m guessing you never went to a game then because you wouldn’t be asking that question otherwise.”

I bit down on my lower lip. Why was I bothering to talk to him? I hated guys like him. I’d gone to high school with his carbon copies. They thought because they could throw a damn ball, they were entitled. Blake was treading a fine line between coming off as self-assured and acting like a condescending dick.

He seemed to read my expression. “I’m not trying to sound arrogant, but I’m a running back and I’ve scored the most touchdowns for the season. I was featured in the campus newspaper a bunch of times. I was also the MVP of the team. Ringing a bell yet?” I shook my head. He laughed
and I relaxed my shoulders at the sound. His laugh was unrestrained and made his chest vibrate. “I guess I built myself up in my head. It’s refreshing to be brought down a notch.”

The pro
fessor walked in, saving me from replying. Art history was a newfound interest of mine and I had the urge to drool as we went over the syllabus. We were concentrating on a broad spectrum of art works and I looked forward to studying the Renaissance, Baroque, and Rococo periods since they featured many of my favorite artists.

After the professor discussed several slides we’d be studying more in depth later in the semester
, she flicked the lights on and announced the end of class. I looked over at Blake and saw him stretch lazily before climbing out of his chair.

I gave him a short wave after I gathered my books and began walking out of the classroom.
“All right, I’ll see you on Thursday then.”

Instead of replying, Blake fell into step next to me
, flashing a charismatic smile as he caught my eye. “Where are you headed?”

“Umm…” I trailed off. After pulling the straps of my backpack tighter, I said, “I don’t have class for another couple of hours, so I’ll probably get something to eat before going to the library.”

“Good, I’m starved. I’ll come with you,” he said and pushed open the building doors. Once outside on the walkway, I stopped in my tracks. Noticing I was no longer walking with him, he double backed and faced me. “What are you doing?”

“Blake, I wasn’t inviting you to eat with me.”

“Okay,” he said, stretching out the syllables slowly. “We’re both hungry, why wouldn’t we just grab something to eat together?”

My face flushed and I suddenly felt exposed. The way he said it made me feel foolish. Like going to eat with him was no big deal. He had no clue it was the closest I’d be
en to a date since I was seventeen years old. At nineteen, I couldn’t even have breakfast with someone of the opposite sex without having an internal freak-out.

“I’m a little confused
about your reasons for hanging out with me.” I swallowed roughly and looked past him at the other students walking around the campus. “I’m not interested in sleeping with you. I may be a freshman girl and maybe you think that means I’ll be an easy lay or something…”

His laugh
was sudden and his expression open. He was a different Blake from the one I met at the party two nights earlier. He was handsome and charming and his reputation as a lady-killer seemed more believable. It was such a dramatic shift, it made me curious if I only imagined the hostility I sensed at the party.

“You don’t take much shit, do you? We’ve talked for a total of five minutes and you’ve already told me you have no clue who I am and accused me of thinking you were an easy lay.”

I felt ridiculous. I had gone to college to start a new life, reinvent myself, and hope the past stayed back in Newpine. It was a lofty goal with my newfound realization of the impossibility of it happening. My past was always there, waiting in the shadows, readying for the opportunity to jump out and unravel me completely.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, but look at it from my perspective. You were staring at me at the party in a not so nice way and
a little rude when we spoke outside. Then you flip the switch, wanting to sit with me in class and have breakfast together.” I pulled my coat tighter as the wind picked up.

“Sorry.” He paused, the humor in his voice fading.
“You reminded me of someone and it freaked me out,” he said. The sincerity of his tone convinced me he was being truthful. His eyes filled with hurt for a flash before he suppressed it. I wondered who in his past warranted such a reaction. Blake added, “Since we’re in the class together, I figure we could hang out. Study for the tests or go to the museum together.” As part of our final paper, we had to visit either the Philadelphia Museum of Art or the Metropolitan Museum of Art and pick a piece to write an essay on. I’d never visited an art museum and was looking forward to the trip.

“Well, you do know Laura if you’re looking for a study buddy,” I supplied and immediately wished the words back.
A study buddy?
I hadn’t always been this inept at conversation with the opposite sex.

His smile was boyish, displaying
a dimple in his left cheek. My muscles clenched at the sight, my body fighting against the unwanted attraction. I felt far away from my surroundings and I couldn’t stop watching him.

“I hooked up with Laura last semester. She’ll want something from me if we’re
study buddies
,” he said wryly. With his grin widening, he let me know he was just teasing me. “Since you and I are obviously not into each other in that way, it won’t end up being complicated.”

My jaw went slack and I hoped I recovered quickly enough for him to miss my reaction. I didn’t want to be involv
ed with a guy, but it still stung to hear he wasn’t interested in me. I should’ve been thankful, but my pride was hurt.

I rallied.
I didn’t want romance, so it was a good thing Blake didn’t see me as dateable material. The Blake from the party wasn’t someone I’d want to be friends with, but the Blake 2.0 standing in front of me had potential. “Okay then, where should we eat?”

“Is all that food just for you?”

I looked at Blake’s tray in surprise. His breakfast consisted of a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon, a bagel with peanut butter, a banana, an apple, and two containers of milk.

We had gone to the cafeteria in the center of campus. It served breakfast until noon and had more food choices than the smaller restaurants and caf
és scattered around campus. After finding an unoccupied table by the door, Blake dug into his meal with enthusiasm.

“You should see what I eat when I’m training. I try to eat six thousand calories a day then,” he remarked and took a bite of
bacon. I shook my head in disbelief and took a tentative bite of my buttered bagel. My appetite had a tendency to come and go, causing an unexpected weight loss. Gradually, the weight was returning and I hoped my curves with it.

“Hey
, Autumn.” I looked up and smiled at my friend Josh approaching our table. He lived on the same floor as Lexi’s boyfriend, Finn, and had been in my biology class last semester. We exchanged emails over winter break, but I hadn’t run into him since moving back to campus last week.

“Hi
, Josh. How was the rest of your break?”

“Boring, I couldn’t wait to come back. I didn’t see you in second section biology. Are you taking a different professor than Greene?”

“I decided to wait until next year to take it. I’m actually in art history at that time with Blake. Josh, this is Blake Preston.” I gestured with my fork between the two guys. I turned away from Josh to address Blake. “Blake, this is Josh Matthews.”

Blake stopped eating and gave Josh an assessing look before smiling. “Hey.”

Josh ran a hand through his thick black hair nervously. “I’m actually a big fan. I went to every home game in the fall. That last catch you made in the fourth quarter against SUNY was incredible.”

I smiled privately. It was adorable to see Josh all excited over meeting Blake. Maybe I’d see if some of the games were on YouTube and find out what all the fuss was about.

“Good to see you have friends with good taste,” Blake said pointedly to me. Addressing Josh, he continued, “You should’ve brought Autumn to a game last semester.”

“Autumn hates football and said the players were probably a bunch of dickheads anyway. She would stay at the dorm and study while the rest of us went to the games.”

Blake’s smile faded. I gave Josh an annoyed look. “I never said that. I
said
I was too busy to go and that I went to high school with a few jackass football players.”

“Sorry,” Josh said but his tone was unapologetic. He adjusted his dark
-rimmed glasses and shifted his weight. “I have to run before I’m late to my next class. You’ll have to stop by my room to say hi when you and Lexi come over to Finn’s. See you, Blake.”

Blake nodded in his direction.

“Okay, bye,” I said distractedly. Chewing on my thumbnail, I peered at his back while he walked toward the exit.  

Blake broke into my thoughts. “He likes you. That’s why he
made that comment about football players. He was marking you.”

“Marking me?”

“Yeah, he was trying to tell me to keep my hands off of you, that he wants you.” Blake peered at me curiously. “Do you like him?”

“No,” I answered too quickly. I took a breath and then added, “We’re just friends. He’s never hit on me or anything.”

“Another study buddy?” Blake laughed.

“Remind me again why I’m eating breakfast with you?”

“Relax, I’m messing with you.” He stopped speaking momentarily to wave to a few of his teammates seated on the other side of the cafeteria. He met my gaze again. “I’m trying to figure you out. I’m not your type, makes me curious if your friend Clark Kent is more your speed.”

I rolled my eyes at his description before saying, “No one is my type. I don’t want to date right now.”

His dimpled smile made me almost regret the words. His eyes sparkled as they took their time regarding me. As he leaned back into his chair and the fabric of his shirt pulled against the hard planes of his chest, I became tongue-tied. He was too hot for words and I had a horrible feeling he could see inside of my head and knew what I was thinking.

I
wiggled in my seat and started, “So, we should talk about the trip to the museum for class.”

He smiled humorlessly as I changed the subject. “I’ll get you to talk one day, Autumn
, and find out what you’re really like.” 

***

After finishing classes for the day, I returned to an empty dorm room. Lexi had texted me earlier to say she’d be in Finn’s room if I wanted to stop by. I decided to stay put and replay the things Blake said in a constant loop in my head. An apprehensive feeling had taken form after his comment about finding out what I was really like.

The appealing thing about college for me was anonymity. I grew up in the same town with the same people my entire childhood. It gave me a false sense of security. As if knowing people for my whole life would keep them from turning on me. Like they owed me their loyalty.

When I came to Cook, there were no expectations, no rumors to contend with. I could be the quiet and studious girl, not the slut I was considered in my hometown. My best friends were the first ones to turn on me, the ones to come up with the nickname Whorey Dorey, using my last name for inspiration.

The football and basketball players were the worst offenders. The boys I had cheered for used the rumors and lies as their permission slip
s to treat my body like they owned it. Their greedy hands reached for me as I walked numbly through the hallways, grabbing at my ass and breasts. It got to the point where I couldn’t finish my senior year of high school and had to be homeschooled.

Yes, everyone in
Newpine thought they knew the real Autumn Dorey, the seventeen-year-old Lolita who wore tight sweaters and short skirts. None of them knew me. And the people I met at Cook would probably never know the real me either. I was forced to become a hybrid—piecing together whatever parts of myself I needed to survive.

I turned on my laptop with every intention of studying. After a lengthy sigh, I allowed my curiosity
to get the better of me and logged onto YouTube. In the search engine, I typed
Blake Preston Cook University
. I clicked on the first video, taken last year at the season opener.

Watching Blake play affected me more than I would’ve liked. He filled out his uniform fantastically, a football god in our school’s blue and gold colors. But what got to me the most was the way he moved across the field. He was six feet of pure muscle, but he glided around his opponents with the grace of a dancer. His speed and agility were unmatched by the players on the other teams and each time he made a catch, my breath hitched.

Watching Blake play football made me pensive. I used to love going to games and cheering on the players. I missed the noise of the crowd and the rush after our team won. There were things I would come to despise about cheering, but the game itself wasn’t one of them. My father was a football fanatic and I attended Eagles games with him before I could walk. The boys of Newpine High had taken enough away from me; I wouldn’t allow them to ruin my love of football, too.

I was so caught up in a video of our school’s game against Fordham
University, I didn’t hear Lexi come into our room. She whistled behind me. “That boy can catch a ball.”

I minimized the video and turned around to face
Lexi. “Blake’s in my art history class. I wanted to see why everyone acts like he’s the shit.”

“Because he kind of is,”
Lexi replied. She sat down on her bed, pushing a strand of her short dark hair behind her left ear. “I already heard about him being in your class. Josh came by Finn’s room tonight and said he ran into you and Blake.”

I groaned. “Josh was acting really strange. He told Blake I said the football players were dickheads.” I drummed my nails on my desk. “Blake said he thought Josh liked me.”

“Duh,” Lexi said, her lips twisting into a smirk. “He’s had a huge crush on you since last semester. He’s asked me to set the two of you up like a dozen times, but I keep telling him you’d probably say no.” Lexi blew out a breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “Why don’t you date? Does it have something to do with your panic attacks?”

“Part of the reason,” I admitted softly. There was so much
Lexi didn’t know about me because I couldn’t peel back the layers and show her the vulnerable and broken Autumn. Lexi had seen glimpses when my panic would build like a crescendo, ending with broken pleas to make it stop.

It was impossible to keep everything from
Lexi; we lived within a twenty-by-twenty-foot room together. I never had peace at night as everything I tried to lock away escaped from the confines of my brain. But to tell her everything would be too risky. I didn’t want to pollute my new friendships by telling them about the mistakes I could never fix.

“I get that we’ve only known each other for six months, but you’ve been a freaking awesome roommate and friend. If you ever want to talk about
anything,
and I mean anything, I’m here.”

The offer was out there. She was giving me the opportunity to confess all of my s
ecrets. She wanted more from me, so much more than I could give her in return.

“Thanks
, Lexi.”

A
n unwavering resolve shone in Lexi’s brown eyes, making me nervous. She wasn’t going to let the conversation drop. “Did something bad happen to you? Did a guy hurt you?”

I trusted
Lexi, I honestly did, but I had made the mistake before of trusting the wrong people. What she wanted was something I wasn’t sure I could give. I learned the hard way what could happen when you let your guard down.

I made the split
-second decision to open up a bit to Lexi. I wouldn’t divulge everything, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to offer up
something
to her. Friendships couldn’t blossom if they were built on lies.

“I had to be homeschooled for my final year of high school. There were these guys…” I trailed off and clenched
and unclenched my hands as the memories resurfaced. “They wouldn’t leave me alone. They were mostly athletes from our football and basketball teams. They spread rumors, saying I was a slut and a nympho, a bunch of other stupid shit, too, like how I snuck into the boys’ locker room after games and would give a blow job to the guy who made the winning basket.”

“That’s awful. W
hat a bunch of assholes.”

“Yes, they were. I probably could’ve dealt with it if they had just spread rumors. But then they started to get
handsy and I was terrified each morning to go to school.”

“Did you report them?”

I nodded. “My parents did, but I decided not to come forward with the names of who was harassing me.”

Lexi’s
eyes were shocked. “Why not?”

“Because they were the stars of the school and it was my word against theirs. They also
sent anonymous threats online. I was scared of how they would retaliate if I pursued it.” I had regrets about not trying to get the boys in trouble, but I was already psychologically beaten down at that point. There were other battles still ahead of me and I couldn’t imagine fighting anyone else. And the boys had gotten what they wanted—they had driven me off. 

“I knew something must’ve happened to make you so skittish about guys, but I had no idea what it was. I thought maybe you had a bad sexual experience, but
I was also confused because you had told me you were…”

“A virgin,” I finished for her. “I am.”

Lexi blew out a long breath. “Autumn, those guys sound like sick freaks, but that doesn’t mean all men are like that.” She looked at me meaningfully and added gently, “It doesn’t mean all jocks are like that either.”

“I know,” I said quickly.
It was a habit to assume all football and basketball players were out to get me. The truth was there had been a select few who tormented me. The rest had simply turned the other way, pretending they no longer saw me. Maybe they hadn’t since I went to great lengths to hide under oversized sweatshirts, hoping for invisibility.

“Blake may have a rep as a womanizer, but it could be like the same thing that happened to you. Maybe
they’re only rumors.”

“I don’t like Blake,” I sputtered out.
Lexi smiled knowingly, prompting me to continue, “Besides, he told me he’s not interested in me like that.”

“Hmm,”
Lexi said, thoughtfully tapping her lips. “I find that hard to believe. And I think you’re protesting too much about being hot for our school’s sexiest football player. I think you have it
bad
for him.”

I grinned,
glad for the touch of levity. “I don’t have it bad for him. I just find him intriguing for some reason.”

“Sure you don’t like him, that’s why you’re
cyberstalking him,” Lexi teased.