As I sat in class, listening to some impenetrable verse from The Duchess of Malfi, I kept reminding myself of that adage. Zephyr was worse than a horny sailor; he was a horny sailor with loaded parents.
So why was I still thinking about Erin Holland taking his hard dick between her boobs? And why was I squeezing my thighs together and shimmying my hips in tiny circles on my seat? Why couldn’t I cool down after that filthy display by the wall?
Dad always said, “The best defense is offense.” He was right.
I missed him so very much. There was nothing to do but keep my head down and charge forward. Even though sobs kept welling up inside me when I least expected them.
I hoped Zephyr would avoid me if for no better reason than not to relive the humiliation I’d dealt him. After class, I stopped by the food hall. I grabbed a salad and a roll and headed back to the room, not in the mood for whatever cage-match social dynamics dinner would bring.
I was stretched across my bed, picking at my meal and trying to make sense of my finance homework when Buffy came in, tossing her bag onto the chair and doing the dramatic dead-man drop onto her mattress.
“You’re screwing things up for both of us, you know,” she complained.
“How so?”
“I heard about your little hissy fit with Zephyr.”
I’d had it. I couldn’t stand to hear that asshole’s name one more time that night. “Give it a rest, Buffy!” I screeched. “He had it coming. He’s disgusting.” I flipped a page and attempted to concentrate, but the vision of him—all of him—was hard to forget. So was the girl bent between his knees.
“Were you crying?”
I sprang up from the bed and flicked on the light over the medicine chest in the bathroom. “Does it show?”
“If you ever want to talk, Biba, I’m here for you. I know not everything is right in your world. But, that said, I’d make sure those guys never see you cry. They’ll think they provoked it, and nothing could make them happier. Don’t give them the pleasure.”
Dabbing at my runny mascara with a wad of dampened toilet paper, I answered. “Yes, I know. You’re right.”
“That’s better,” Buffy commented as I clicked off the light and came out of the bathroom. “You know you’re drop-dead gorgeous, don’t you?”
My mouth opened. “Yeah, right.”
“That’s exactly what I figured. You don’t have a clue. Never mind. How about you let me do a makeover on you?”
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s not my style.”
“We’re only talking about a little makeup and a hairstyle. Maybe weed through that dreadful wardrobe you’ve got.”
I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Buffy moved to sit next to me on my bed, putting her arms around me in a warm hug.
“Honey, if you don’t want a make-over, that’s fine. I won’t force you. I just thought that if you had a new look—let’s call it power look—that it would help you through all this. You know… the others are going to be picking at you. Let’s show ‘em what you’re made of. That spine of steel in you. Think how good it would feel to make the Holland twins jealous, and the boys—well, the boys will be scrappin’ over you.”
I nodded, letting my hair fall over my eyes. “Something happened today.”
“If you’re talking about the wall, it’s all over the school. That’s Zephyr’s domain, honey. He rules everything. You can’t just thumb your nose at him. You know Erin has a thing for Zephyr, right?”
“It would be hard to miss. It was all pretty much in the open.”
Buffy grabbed a tissue and dabbed at my cheeks for me. “It’s not that simple. She’s really in love with him. He doesn’t love anyone but himself. He doesn’t give two shits for her. That kind of treatment can get to you—it makes a woman jealous and mean. I’m just saying that Erin would love to see you get stomped on. So would her sister.”
I looked up to Buffy’s compassionate expression. “You’re right. Okay, I’m game.”
“You’re lucky I brought my whole make-up kit with me. I’ll lend you a couple sexy little things from my closet. Okay?”
I nodded and lay back. Something cold and wet touched my cheek. “Here,” Buffy said. Put this wet cloth over those cat eyes, so they don’t swell up.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ve got gorgeous brows, but I just want to blunt them a bit at the insides.”
“But I like my brows. They’re just like my mother’s were.”
Buffy leaned back to look at my face. “Were? She’s already passed?”
I nodded, and the tears surfaced.
“Well, no wonder. Now, this all makes sense. I’ll leave them be. They’re beautiful, anyway. I just don’t know when to stop is my problem.”
“It’s okay. I know your heart is in the right place.”