Anna returns to help me up, clumsily hauling me from the ground by my armpits. The loss of dignity in front of roller girl hurts almost as much as the blow from the doorknob.

I lower the ice pack and see it the moment she recognizes me. Her eyes go wide and she takes in a quick gulp of air.

"Hannah, meet our new roommate, Blaise." Roller girl's face changes in an instant, smiling at me warmly. She holds out her hand.

"Hannah Wilson."

"Blaise Evans." I reach out and shake her hand.

"So, we were just getting to know Blaise. We were talking about her boyfriend, Wyatt Montgomery," Jana says in an overly sweet voice, looking only at Hannah while she says it. Hannah's expression doesn't change. Jana looks back and forth between us with big eyes and an expectant smile, but soon pouts when neither of us say anything.

"And we were talking about how you happen to know Officer Montgomery." Jana continues to instigate.

"Drop it, Jana." Hannah glares at Jana then looks at me with soft eyes and a small shrug. "I am so sorry. God love her, Jana has no filter or social skills."

"Correction, I have no patience for bullshit or assholes, and Wyatt Montgomery is both. I don't want drama all year because you two are fucking with the same dude."

My stomach drops. "What?"

Hannah rolls her eyes. "There's no drama. Wyatt and I are ancient history."

Jana scoffs.

I'm confused. "Did you guys date?" I ask Hannah.

Hannah pauses and chews on her bottom lip. Jana answers for her. "No, because he's a non committal douchebag. They just fucked. A lot."

"Oh my God, Jana! Shut up!" Hannah yells as she throws a couch cushion at her. Jana blocks the pillow with her forearm and flips Hannah the bird before both girls laugh.

I feel the familiar pressure in my chest. My heart thuds under my ribs, so hard I'm afraid they can hear it. My mind races and I try to ground myself before this spirals out of control. I focus on my surroundings, identifying five objects I can see in the room and listing them out in my mind.

The stack of brand new text books on the coffee table.
The framed M.C. Escher poster leaning against the wall.
The dog-eared copy of '1984' on the edge of the couch.
The unpacked boxes stacked in the corner.
The cluster of candles on the bookshelf.

My head is spinning, but I force myself to be rational. I don't know these girls. They might be lying. Even if it's true, Wyatt is an adult. Of course he has a history. So do I. We didn't agree to be exclusive until this week. He didn't cheat on me.

But then I remember Wyatt's words.

I barely know the girl.

He lied to me. And worse, he made me feel paranoid when I called him on it.

My entire body erupts in flames just thinking about him, and I'm not sure if it's anxiety or rage. My heart rate spikes as I start to lose control of my breathing. I focus on four things I can feel right now.

The plush carpet under my feet.
The scratchy fabric of the couch on the back of my legs.
The cold burst of air from the window air conditioner unit.
The soft cotton fabric of my shirt clutched in my wringing hands.

I gather my bearings enough to retrieve my phone from my car and walk straight to mine and Jana's room. She's already chosen her side of the room and covered the walls in dark, moody tapestries and music festival posters. I plop on the bare twin bed on the stark, opposite wall and stare at the ceiling.

Before I make the call, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and focus on three things I can hear right now.

The muffled voices in the next room.                                                                        The chirping of a car alarm in the parking lot.                                             

My own labored breathing.

I open my eyes and dial his number. It rings three times before he picks up.

"Hey, baby, what time is it?" He yawns into the phone, and I hear the croak of bedsprings and rustling of blankets.

"Oh, shit, it's almost one. I forgot to set my alarm. I'm so sorry, babe."

"It's fine." My voice is shaky. I need to get my shit together.

"Let me throw on some clothes and I'm on my way."

"Okay, but first..."

He interrupts me. "I can pick you up and we can go to your mom's. Where are you living? Please don't say the coed dorm."

"Nope. An apartment. The Grider complex."

Wyatt is silent. I don't even hear him breathe.

"Hello? You there?"

"Yeah, baby. I was just thinking. My truck is in the shop. I'm going to run by my parents' first. Be on the lookout for my dad's truck." My bullshit meter hits red. He doesn't want his truck seen here. He knows she lives in this complex.

"That doesn't make any sense. Campus is on the way. Come get me first and we can ride over to Hummingbird Lane together so you don't have to make two trips." Please agree, Wyatt. Please be honest with me. Let me be wrong.

"Do you really want a police cruiser in front of your apartment on your first day of college? That seems pretty uncool." He laughs, but it's tense. Fake. My heart sinks.

"Are you afraid someone will see your car here?" I give him another opportunity to come clean.

"What? Baby, don't be ridiculous. I'll come pick you up. What's the apartment number?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "107-D."

There's silence on the other end of the line again. He clears his throat.

"So upperclassmen move in tomorrow right? Is that when you meet the roommates?" I recognize the panic in his voice and can almost hear his brain churning, trying to come up with a plan. I'm so disappointed in him, I want to shake him. Or hit him. But I can hear the pain and fear in his voice and, more than anything, I want to comfort him. I'm so weak sometimes.

"No. I met them this morning. Anna, Jana and Hannah." I hear his sharp intake of breath while I wipe the single tear from my cheek. "You know them, right? Especially Hannah."

"Baby, I can explain." His voice breaks on the last syllable.

"Don't bother." I end the call and toss the phone down. Jana is laying on her bed, clearly eavesdropping. I didn't even hear her sneak in, the damn ninja.

The phone rings and I stare at it, debating whether to answer.

"Don't do it," Jana warns.

She gets up and grabs a small wooden box off her dresser. She runs her hand over the intricate, delicate carvings and opens it with a key she pulls out of the top drawer. She cracks the window and lays back on her bed, a blunt in one hand and a lighter in the other.

"So Blaise, you blaze?" she asks, holding the blunt toward me.

I sigh, already overwhelmed by this day. "Yeah, today I think I do."

She takes a hit, then passes it to me. It's been a while, but I remember how this works. I take a slow draw and hold my breath, feeling my lungs fill. I let out a slow exhale, watching the ribbons of smoke dance and weave above my head, and lay back, enjoying the buzz. An instantaneous calm rushes over me, staving off the impending panic attack.

I spend the next blissful, peaceful half hour alternating between smoking, slowly and inefficiently unpacking, and snacking on a plate of food Jana calls "the dairy delight", consisting of cheese cubes, string cheese, cheddar slices and processed "cheese spread" from a spray can.

I'm smoothing the pale blue comforter over my bed when I hear a thundering knock on the front door, followed by Wyatt's voice booming through the walls.

"Dammit, Anna, move. I know she's in here."

I listen harder.

"She doesn't want to see you." Anna's voice is soft but determined.

I peek through the blinds and see his police cruiser parked next to my old Honda. Suddenly, I feel very, very paranoid.

"Oh shit," I whisper to Jana, "Wyatt is here. Wyatt is the Po Po!"

She immediately jumps up, opens the windows wide, and sprays an air freshener. "The pot is locked up. I don't think he'll smell anything."

"But what about the snacks?" I whisper back, lustily eyeing the half-eaten tray of cheese. "How do we explain that?"

Her eyes go wide. "Hide the cheese!" she yells, as she starts stuffing crackers and cheddar slices under her pillow.

"Blaise!" Wyatt shouts again. I open the bedroom door and peek my head around the corner. Anna defiantly holds her ground, her hands on her hips and her chin raised to meet Wyatt's gaze. His eyes meet mine over Anna's shoulder almost immediately, a mixture of relief and apprehension in his expression. His eyes roam the half of my face that I'm sure is bruised and swollen by now and his face turns red. He clenches his jaw and puts his hand on the butt of his gun.

"So help me God, Anna, move your ass. That's an order." She raises her hands in front of her and slowly backs away, and he shoulders past her.

"Wyatt, what the hell?" I shout as I enter the living room. "You can't talk to her like that. Get out." I turn to apologize to Anna, but she already left and closed the door behind her. He reaches out to me, gently holding my face in his hands.

"Baby, what happened?" He asks as his thumb brushes over my sore and bruising flesh. I'm so angry and confused, but the tone of his voice, look in his eyes, and touch on my skin is gentle and protective. One moment he's an authoritarian asshole and the next he's a doting boyfriend. I feel like I have whiplash. I'm way too high for this.

"It was an accident," Hannah starts before Wyatt abruptly drops his hands and spins toward her.

"You? You did this to her?" He takes a step toward Hannah and points, his index finger inches from her face. "Don't ever fucking touch her again."

"I'm sorry, Wyatt," she whimpers, her eyes on the floor. "It was an accident."

I'm so confused by Hannah. I'm not sure how to read her, and I certainly don't trust her, but she doesn't deserve Wyatt's wrath. She's right, it was an accident.

"Wyatt. Outside. Now." He finally concedes and turns, and I follow him to the porch. The second I shut the door, he takes a deep breath, then furrows his brow and looks me over.

"What happened? Did she hurt you?" His jaw is clenched, the vein on his forehead protruding.

"No. I mean, not on purpose. I was standing in front of the door when she opened it and ..." I don't think he's even listening anymore, he leans in and sniffs.

"You smell like pot. And cheese?" He examines my face again, no doubt noticing my bloodshot, glassy eyes. "Are you high?" I giggle in response. "Jesus, you're with Jana for three hours and she's already gotten you high?"

"Don't blame her. And don't you dare judge me for the way I cope with the pain you caused and the position you put me in."

"Baby, I'm sorry." He says, putting his hand on my hip, pulling me toward him and resting his forehead on mine. "You know I haven't touched her since the minute you came home. Not once."

"That's not the point, Wyatt. You lied to me. And then you made me feel like I was imagining things."

"I know. I fucked up. I should have told you the whole truth."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because she doesn't mean anything to me. And you mean everything. And I didn't want anything to ruin our night, especially not her. What was I supposed to say? She's the girl I used to casually sleep with? It just sounds bad. I was afraid that you'd think I was a player. That it would make you doubt my feelings for you."

"But I'm allowed to decide that for myself, Wyatt. How are we supposed to make this work if you hide who you are? How am I supposed to fall for you if I don't even know you?"

"But you do know me, baby." He pleads, desperation in his eyes. "You know me better than anyone. Please."

I take a step back, out of his embrace, so I can think. I don't know him, though. Not this side of him. I take another step back and shake my head.

"Don't do this, Blaise." I shut my eyes. I can't look at his pouty lips or sad eyes right now. "Don't end things without even giving them a chance to start."

My head is swimming. I really, really wish I hadn't smoked that blunt.

"I'm not ending anything right now, Wyatt. I just need you to leave. I need some space." The tears I have been desperately trying to hold in finally escape, silently streaming down my face. He pulls me back in for a hug and I let him because I really need a hug right now.

"I'm sorry." He whispers into my hair and kisses the side of my head. "I hate that this is hurting you. That was never my intention."

I'm angry with myself for allowing him to hold me while I cry. When I finally get my shit together, I pull back and wipe my cheeks.

"Don't let it happen again." I tell him, and he smiles.

"I won't. I promise."

"I still need you to leave. And you need to apologize for Anna before you can come back."

"Baby..." I hold up my hand and he stops.

"Fair enough." He starts to walk away. "What about your stuff? I was supposed to help you move the rest of your stuff."

Shit. I'm too high and somehow not high enough for this right now.

"Are you off tomorrow?" I ask.

"I can be. I will be. I'll be here in the morning."

"I don't know. Let's touch base in the morning," I finally agree. He leans in and tries to kiss me, but I turn my head and his mouth lands on my cheekbone instead.

The second I'm back in the apartment, I turn my back to the door and slide to the ground. Jana sits on the floor next to me with a can of Cheese Whiz.

"I didn't mean for that to escalate. But you didn't see how heartbroken she was when she came home last night." She extends the can toward me and I shake my head. "I really just want her to see what a prick he is and be done with him. For good this time. You okay?"

I nod. "I'll be fine."

"You're going to forgive that mother fucker, aren't you?" She shakes the can.

I sigh. "Yeah, probably. There's a lot of history there."

She turns the can upside down and sprays the orangey-yellow goo directly in her mouth. "Doesn't mean there has to be a future."