Just As Much Page 4

  “You get up early,” he says tiredly.

  “I have class early,” I say grabbing my robe. I drop it when the muscles in my hand decide to go haywire. Damnit, not today.

  “No one should have eight AMs,” he says.

  “Turn around,” I say, and he does. I undress quickly and pull the robe over me so I can go shower.

  “A hot girl is undressing in my presence and I am looking at a wall. This is what you’ve done to me,” he says. He voice is deep from sleep, so he sounds even more annoyed.

  “Friends, Damian. We are friends,” I sing.

  “Go shower while I steal the affection of your dog,” he says. I grab my shower caddy and drop it as well, my stuff going everywhere. Damian gets up and helps me pick everything up.

  “Nervous?” he asks with a smirk. No. Myoclonic. But he doesn’t need to know that. I take a deep breath and stretch my hand.

  I stand up and reach for my towel on the rack and it slips too, but Damian catches it with a smirk.

  “I think you’re a klutz—or that being undressed in my presence does something to you,” he says with a wink. I ignore it, too preoccupied with the fact that I am probably going to have to call my doctor. Which means more medical bills. Medical bills that Daniel will freak out about.

  I close my eyes and wait a second. Damian is still staring at me, really enjoying himself. This situation is awkward, but not for the reasons he is thinking. I stretch my hand again. The jerking has stopped, for now. I needed more sleep than what I got.

  “Zeke has to come with me,” I say rolling my eyes and grabbing Zeke’s vest. I should wait awhile before I go in the shower, but Zeke will give me my fifteen-minute warning if these are precursor shakes. I should be fine. But, shaving is out of the question. Jeans it is.

  “Lucky Zeke,” Damian says petting him before I put the vest on him. Damian walks out with me.

  This floor, mostly consisting of sophomores, has a lot of people in it and most have eight AMs, because the seniors and juniors get to choose their classes first. Therefore, the hallway isn’t particularly busy, but there are enough people around that I face palm. I just came out of my room half-naked with Damian.

  “Get it!” one guy yells from the common room. I count them. Great, at least six people think I have been claimed by Damian Turner.

  “Go,” I say closing my eyes. I think my cheeks are actually turning red.

  “What?” he says innocently.

  I look around and see the eyes on me and Damian realizes what just happened.

  “Oh,” he says, and I shake my head and head to the bathroom.

  “See you in psych,” he calls, and I give him the finger without stopping while he chuckles.

  Man-Whore

  The rumors started soon after that. Most people think I am Damian’s friend with benefits. Girls that I don’t even know walk by me and call me names and suddenly, no guy wants anything to do with me whatsoever, not that they did much before. No skin off my teeth, but it is getting annoying.

  We go to the library together, eat dinner, and typically hang out doing homework until fairly late. I don’t let him stay over though, mostly because I don’t want him to see an episode and less because I care what people think.

  “You know, people think you are in some weird open relationship?” Meredith says when psychology class is over and Damian waves me down.

  “You and I know I am not,” I say shrugging.

  “Hey, can we grab coffee later?” Damian asks as we leave. Meredith rolls her eyes at me and keeps walking.

  “Sure,” I say to him. “What time?”

  “I’ll meet you after your calc class. How did the test go, by the way?”

  “A C. I hate calculus. I have never had a C in my life,” I say as we walk out to the quad.

  “I’ll help you study some more later,” he says not looking at me, instead he is looking at a short blonde up ahead of us.

  “Go, Romeo. I’ll see you for coffee,” I say looking at her—poor girl. He grins at me knowingly and lips “Thank you.”

  I wait a minute before walking away. I know Damian well enough to know that he won’t look back to see me here. We are past all that, fully friend zoned. But I watch as he flirts with the blonde. I watch her flirt back and I feel like I swallowed hot coals. Friends, Felicity. Friends.

  After calc, I take Zeke on a walk and meet Damian at our spot at the coffee house. He calls it our spot because of the milk bone fiasco, and I just go with it.

  “How’s the blonde?” I ask as he sits down, I just love pouring salt into my own wounds. Maybe they will go away faster? I roll my eyes at myself.

  “I’ll find out later,” he winks handing me a coffee. Gross. And undeniably painful.

  “You disgust me. You got me coffee?” I say quizzically.

  “Cream and three sugars, right?” he asks, and I nod.

  “Practically ruining it,” he says rolling his eyes.

  “What do you want?” I say eying the coffee.

  “Hmm?”

  “You buy me things when you want something.”

  “I do not.”

  “Last week you bought my lunch because you wanted me to help you with your English paper. The week before it was nuggets and the password to your Netflix, so I’d help clean your room before your mother visited that afternoon. The dinner was to get in my pants—Damian, you give me things when you want something.”

  He lets out a breath. “Listen, I don’t have many friends. I go home a lot and…” he starts.

  “And you spend most of your free time with me or people you refuse to see again, carry on,” I interrupt.

  “Listen, Alex is leaving me high and dry this weekend and I want to go out. So, I was wondering if you would be my wingman. Or wingwoman, in this case.”

  “No,” I say bluntly.

  “Why not?”

  “I hate to repeat myself, Damian. But you disgust me,” I say taking a sip and going back to looking over my notes for class.

  “I disgust you?” he says flatly taking a sip.

  “Yes. I am a terrible feminist for being your friend,” I say gripping my coffee.

  “Felicity, no one I sleep with doesn’t know exactly what they are getting. I tell them from the beginning that for me it is just sex, it’s not my fault if they don’t listen or they think they are the one to save me. Don’t feminists believe that women can make their own choices about sex?”

  “Yes. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t disgusted by people who use women for just their bodies. You only see meat, Damian. Warm-flesh. Don’t you get that?”

  “Come on. You need to get out of the dorms. You practically stay in your room all weekend,” he says.

  “How do you know what I do with my weekends?” I ask him. We don’t talk about the weekends—mostly because I don’t want to vomit or have any more reasons to think about what he does. Or anymore reason to imagine him doing said things to me. I don’t need that visual or any more reasons to think that hanging out with someone who uses people is a bad idea.

  “Because, I know. Felicity, please. All you have to do is come with me. It will be great! You pretend to be my girlfriend when I am not interested, you help me flirt when I am…it is pretty easy.”

  “Damian, I don’t drink.”

  “At all?” he asks appalled.

  “At all,” I repeat. It would make me go into an episode—but we haven’t gotten that far yet. I let Damian talk about Damian, I try not to talk about me unless it is necessary.

  “Then just come,” he says desperately.

  “And help you defile women? No.”

  “Felicity…come on…”

  “Damian, I would stand out. Not many people go to a bar with a service dog. I’m just not good wingwoman material.”

  “I’ll be your wingman.”

  “No,” I say dramatically.

  “Besides, I don’t date, remember?”

  “You wouldn’t be looking for dates,” Damian
says with a grin and I kick him from underneath the table.

  “I don’t do that either.”

  “Just go once. If you hate it, I will never ask again. We are only in college once. Come out with me. If I disgust you too much we will leave, and you can make me watch one of your stupid Netflix chick shows.”

  “Fine. But don’t blame me when you end up on my futon debating the attractiveness of McDreamy or McSteamy.”

  “Can’t wait,” he says rolling his eyes.

  “So, tonight or Saturday?” he asks.

  “Either one is fine.”

  “So, tonight it is then. Pick you up at ten,” he says throwing his coffee out with a wicked grin.

  “Nine. You are getting me food first,” I say, and he tries not to laugh.

  “You only love me for my wallet,” he says pouting.

  “Wingwoman’s got to eat,” I say shrugging.

  “Food it is. Nugs I am guessing?”

  “Nugs are life, Dame,” his eyebrows shoot up at me shortening his name.

  “Pick you up at nine. With nugs on hand,” he says, and I smile at him.

  “If you say one degrading thing, we are leaving,” I warn.

  “Fine,” he sings as we walk to the dorms. I am going to need a nap before I do this.

  I have Natalie come and help me find something to wear. Meredith is not on board with this decision, so we leave her to her homework.

  “You’ve never gone out before?” she asks looking through my closet. There isn’t much there, I keep clothes buying to a minimum when I can.

  “How about we raid my closet?” Natalie suggests and I grin at her. Natalie is built way better than me, I am a pole—she actually has a frame, a solid athletic frame. So I am not sure how this is going to go.

  We walk in and Meredith looks at us and rolls her eyes.

  “Mere, could you try to at least be supportive?” Natalie says going into her closet and searching.

  “Fee, you are going to get burned. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Meredith says looking down on me from her bunk. How fitting.

  “He is my friend, Meredith.”

  “You like him.”

  “So what if I do?” I say shaking my head at an outfit Natalie is holding up. It is a really short red dress. Her it would be normal. For me it would show my bits to the entire world.

  “Do you have something a little less—I don’t know noticeable?” I say to her while looking up at Mere.

  “So, you do like him?” she says putting her book down.

  “Yes. I like talking to him. I like being with him. But I am not idiotic enough to sleep with him. Trust me,” I say, and she softens.

  “End it, Fee. Or you’re going to set yourself up for pain. You already have people calling you a slut.”

  “Did you sleep with him or something?” Natalie smarts off and I look up at Mere’s face. She blanches for a second.

  “Or something,” Meredith says going back to her book. Natalie and I look at each other and shrug. She would tell us if she wanted to.

  “Mere?” I say and she shrugs.

  “This is it!” Natalie says. She pulls out a yellow floral romper with a plunging neckline.

  “Oh hell no,” I say looking at it.

  “Just try it on,” Natalie says rolling her eyes. I’ve never been modest, doctors and tests and hospital stays took that away from me a long time ago, so I just change in front of both of them.

  “I won’t have the boobs,” I say pulling it up. The sleeves are long and wide, almost seventies style and the shorts hit about my fingertips. I am showing way more skin than I am used too. The neckline almost goes down to my sternum.

  “Natalie, this is too much chest,” I say looking down at myself.

  “Take off your bra,” she says, and I do it. There’s slight padding in the dress to help support what little I have. However, this romper makes me look like I actually have cleavage. I spin in it.

  “I say we have a winner,” Natalie says. “Now…on to shoes…” she says looking.

  “No heels!” I say looking down at Zeke. He is sitting at my feet, so unaware of the hell he is about to go through tonight.

  “Zeke, I apologize in advance for how many drunk people hit on you,” I say petting him. He perks up and even Meredith laughs.

  “So, you don’t drink?” Natalie asks handing me a pair of fancier sandals. I try them on and they actually fit.

  “No, I can’t really,” I say and they both look at me expectantly. I suppose I will have to tell people eventually.

  “Zeke is for seizures. I can’t consume alcohol without risking having one,” I say turning away from them and putting my make-up on. I refuse to see the look on my friend’s faces. But they do the unexpected, as usual.

  “Pay up,” Meredith says holding her hand out.

  “I could have sworn diabetes,” Natalie says handing her a twenty.

  “You two bet on what illness is raging on my body?” I say faking being appalled as they look at me uneasily. I love doing this to people. I am also slightly evil, so there’s that. Natalie looks almost scared as she stutters.

  “Yes…I…I...mean…”

  “You are buying me something with that,” I say pointing at Meredith and laughing. The two of them immediately calm down and Meredith throws a pillow at me.

  “I thought you were pissed,” she says.

  “And I thought you two had souls,” I say turning back toward their mirror. They both laugh at me.

  “Thanks for trusting us,” Natalie says, kindly and I just roll my eyes at her. She’s the Izzie in the group. So loving. So trusting. So rainbows and butterflies. Meredith and I are more Meredith and Christina—dark and twisty. Maybe I am watching too much of Damian’s Netflix.

  “Too much, Nat. Too much,” Meredith says going back to her book. I finish my makeup and let Natalie inspect me.

  “You look hot. Go have fun.”

  “Twenty bucks says her and fuckboy end up coming back to her room before midnight,” Meredith says without looking up.

  “I’ll take that bet. Fuckboy knows a good time,” Natalie remarks and I roll my eyes at them.

  “Can you two please save the bets on my personal life for after I leave your room?” I say sweetly and they both throw pillows at me.

  At eight forty-five I take Zeke out and go ahead and give him his second feeding. Lord knows when we will get back. As I walk out some guys who are obviously pregaming start whistling at me out their window. I roll my eyes and walk back inside. Assholes.

  When we walk back, Damian is waiting by my door, chicken nuggets in hand. He is facing away from me.

  “Is that a twenty-pack I see?” I say and he turns around and his mouth literally drops.

  “You. Inside. Now,” he says pointing at my door. I laugh at him and open my door for him.

  “You look nice, Felicity. Here are your nuggets, Felicity,” I say rolling my eyes, but he is blatantly staring at me.

  I walk over and take the nuggets from his grasp and start eating, leaning against my desk. He still stands there eying me.

  “Do I have something between my teeth?” I say enjoying his obvious reaction to my outfit.

  “You need to change. Change now,” he says going to my closet and looking at my clothes.

  “I am not changing,” I say popping another chicken nugget in my mouth. Is it bad that I am enjoying this? Nope. I don’t think so. He looks at a loss.

  “Felicity…” he starts.

  “My friends usually call me Fee, Damian. You sound so formal all the time,” I say eating. I pull myself up onto the desk and look at him. He is staring at my chest.

  “Please, change, Fee,” he says seriously, and I laugh.

  “You’re the one who wanted me to go out with you,” I say offering him the nuggets, but he doesn’t take them.

  “You look too good,” he says.

  “Thank you?” I say eating some more.

  “If you would have worn t
hat on our date, we wouldn’t be in the friendzone,” he says looking at me.

  “And you wouldn’t know me. You would just know my body,” I say seriously.

  “I feel like I am becoming more and more familiar with your body by the minute. You aren’t wearing clothes!” he says.

  “Damian, I bet I am more dressed than half of the girls you take home,” I say laughing.

  “That is not the point here, Fee.”

  “The point is, I feel good in this outfit and since you made a big deal I am definitely not changing. End of story.” This fight sounds too familiar and I am not my sister.

  “Fee,” he practically grunts.

  “Damian,” I say seriously. “I am a woman going somewhere extremely out of her comfort zone, with a service dog, which makes me noticeable. I am a woman going somewhere that is probably going to make her uncomfortable, where everyone will be drunk but her. And I am doing it for you. So, can you please stop staring at my cleavage and let me have my fun?”

  “We could stay in. I am fine with staying in. Watch some Netflix, McHotty or McNaughty or whatever,” he says stammering.

  “Not going to happen,” I say. He’s crossing the line, and I am letting him, but only so far.

  “We are friends. Going out and having a good time,” I say, and he shakes his head.

  “Friendzone she said, get to know me she said, it will be fun she said,” he says sitting down on my bed.

  “You chose,” I say.

  “And so far, I am buying you food, watching chick shows, and most likely going to have to fight other guys away from you all night. With no sex. I made such a wise decision,” he says smiling and I laugh at him.

  “Hey, if I outsmarted you, that’s on you,” I say eating the last of my ten. I hand him the package and he takes it this time.

  “You know, the more that I get to know you, the more I think you are actually a demon,” he says eating a nugget. “A hot, hot demon and this is your familiar,” he says patting Zeke on the head.

  “Witches have familiars. And familiars are cats,” I say grabbing two bottles of water and tossing him one.

  “Evil spawn,” he says.

  “Manwhore,” I say.

  “Fair enough,” he says taking a sip.

  “Thank you for my nuggets,” I say smirking at him.