RILEY

MATTIE LEFT EARLY THIS MORNING.

Her girlfriend picked her up and since she's done with her classes, she's going to spend thanksgiving with her girlfriend's family. Sutton's going in the same direction, she's also spending thanksgiving with her partner's family. His name is Josh Jefferson and his dad owns the top brokerage in Warren so I have no doubt that wherever she's staying will be aesthetic. I'm happy for her. Both of my friends really.

Sutton is just about ready to go. Her laptop's packed and she's wearing her glasses today (without me having to say it) with her hair in a messy bun.

Kianna is still packing like her flight isn't in two hours. Her mom bought a ticket already that she can't cancel and if I know anything about Kie, she wants her mother's cooking for Thanksgiving. She speaks highly of her Mom's candied yams, collard green, mac & cheese and cornbread.

"He's here." Sutton pipes up from the living room couch. She holds onto the handle of her suitcase and pulls it on the floorboard. The wheels screech on her way to the door when she comes to a halt and faces me. "I'll call you and Kie."

I nod at her. It's not enough though because she reaches out and pulls me in a hug so aggressively, I think I accidentally knocked her glasses off. Luckily, it's intact on her face and I press my arms to her back, fingers gripping her cable knit sweater. I love my friends so I'm obviously going to miss her. I'll miss her reading her scripts out loud and asking for my opinion. I'll miss her hooking her arms with mine whenever we're going somewhere. I'll miss her peeping into my phone to see what's going on there although it should be my business and privacy. I'll miss her staring at her laptop screen for hours without wearing her glasses because she's stubborn.

When we pull away from the hug, I say, "Be safe okay?"

Sutton flashes me a soft smile. "You be safe."

"You know I will." I promise her, pulling the door open to help minimize her struggle with her all luggage. "Don't worry about me."

"Bye Kie!" She bids, putting her suitcase through the door first. "See you soon."

Kianna's voice ring out in the apartment from her bedroom. "Bye Sue! Use protection!"

That makes Sutton laugh. At first she suppresses it but the laugh jumps out eventually. "I will!" She says and then she's out the door. Josh meets her there and I watch him grab the handle of her suitcase, then asks if she's okay. Sutton answers and that's when Josh turns his head and sees me at the door.

He's good for her. They're good for each other. Josh has that boy-next-door thing going for himself.

I wave a hand. "Hi Josh. Take care of her and drive safely kids!"

He nods and then they're gone.

Thirty minutes later, Kie asks me to sit on her suitcase. So I do. She zips it up easily and I get up when she's done and let her grab the rest of her things. She's wearing the outfit. White Sweatpants and a baggy sweater—all white— and because her hair is orange at this moment, Kie looks like a marshmallow on fire.

"Are you sure you won't be lonely? The apartment sounds dead already." Her eyes do a quick glance around the living room area.

"I'll be fine Kie. I promise. I'll be busy."

Kianna didn't look convinced. "And you're sure there's nothing we can do about Jade?"

"What you can do is enjoy your thanksgiving break and have a safe flight. Will you do that?"

She hugs me instead of answering directly. After releasing her, I get the door and let her go. Now that the front door's closed and I'm the one left behind, the apartment really looks dead and lonely.

I haven't been alone since, yeah, I can't remember in how long. I don't want to stop my friends from having the best time with their boyfriend and girlfriend or seeing their families because they have to stay back with me since I don't want to see my Mom. That was my decision. I have to figure out what I'm going to do for my hearing and I don't want to put that issue on their backs either.

I tell myself that I'm going to paint to relax my mind. But I can't. I can't paint anything. So the next best thing is taking a walk to kickstart the brainstorming.

Fixing the black stretchy headband on my head, I make sure I'm carrying my trusty backpack that contains my sketchbook, cellphone, water bottle, pepper spray, a few cigarettes and my lighter in case I feel like smoking and of course I toss the keys inside once I leave the apartment.

On the way out of the building, a group of girls are also leaving. By the look of things, they're getting ready for thanksgiving like everyone else. It's Wednesday so now is the time people normally get their shit together before thanksgiving whether they're driving up to their families or flying.

A mental image of airports around the country flashes into my head and it's horrifying. I'm hoping Kianna makes it through the rush.

If I'm being honest, I thought it would be snowing at this time. Normally, we would've gotten some ounce of snow but with Warren who knows? My weather app says it's 47 degrees Fahrenheit which is why I'm wearing a turtleneck underneath my fleece sweatshirt. I should be good at walking to Sippers on campus, right?

I'm not turning back. I'm not driving either. I need some fresh air. Dry leaves gives a satisfying crunch underneath my boots with every step I take. My eyes scan my surroundings on the entire walk to Sippers Coffeehouse. The door handle is cold to the touch when I pull it open.

The warm air filtering the coffeehouse invites me in. The smell of baked goods and coffee beans reaches my nostrils and something about that makes you want to stick around. The fact that there are no customers though causes loneliness to hit me like a ton of bricks. Because this is how I'm going to spend Thanksgiving break. I didn't think I would be affected but maybe I will be?

Don't get me wrong, being alone isn't a bad thing but in this scenario it isn't the same.

The girl behind the cash register greets me with an eager smile like she's been waiting for somebody—anybody— to walk in and that happens to be me.

The coffeehouse is a ghost town and sadly the physical manifestation of my feelings.

I order a cup of coffee and a turkey sandwich that's on display. The cash register clicks and I lean on the counter and wait. The workers have nothing else to do which is why my order is ready in less than a minute.

My phone vibrates in my backpack. I fish the device and look at the screen. I can't say I'm shocked that it's a message from Asher. He's asking if I've eaten all day. The cosmic rays are going crazy that he's asking the question when I'm getting food.

So I text back: I'm getting food from Sippers rn

His reply rolls in quickly. It reads: Good I'm proud of you. Another text comes afterwards: what's your plan?

He still remembers that? He isn't giving up until he knows what my plan is, I'm certain.

———-

ASHER

I FIND RILEY AT THE BACK OF THE COFFEEHOUSE.

Not because I'm looking for her but because she's literally the only person in here. Scratch that, I am looking for her.

I order a cup of coffee for myself and then I swing by her table.

If I didn't think Riley was stressed or anxious before, now I see it. She isn't wearing her signature wing liner over her eyes today.

"Are you considering taking any legal action?" I'm cutting right into it because there's no time to waste. I sit down on the vacant chair beside Riley and her half eaten sandwich.

"I don't have money for a lawyer and I don't want my mother involved." She murmurs.

"All right. So we won't involve your mother. I'm not letting you do this alone. I know how you are."

My statement forces her to look me in the eyes. "And how am I?"

While I do think she's pretty enough to kiss, I also want to help her. I have an urge to help her and I think I might go crazy if I sit back and do nothing. It's not in my DNA. But I know it might be hard to convince her to just let me help.

I want to be there for her. I'm lucky if she lets me.

I exhale a breath. "Let's see. You don't ask for help." I lift my hand and place it on top of hers. Riley sits still, not flinching. Her skin warms under mine. "You think you can handle everything on your own. Or you want to handle things on your own? Annnd... that's good in some ways. I understand that's what you're used to and maybe you don't know how to accept or ask for help. I'm telling you to let me help you."

She's silent. I'm thinking she's going to shove my hand away, not accept what I'm putting out there. I hope I communicated well enough without offending her.

"Fine." She mumbles afterwards and it surprises me a little.  "How are you going to help me?"

I remove my hand from hers and grab my coffee cup. "Tell me about your plan and we'll start there?"

So she does. Her plan involves stalking her classmate's instagram and noting that the girl already left for thanksgiving so she could sneak into her dorm room.

My eyes were wide. "Is the plan an illegal plan?"

Sheepishly, a nod on Riley's end. "Yeah,"Then she clears her throat, her voice raspy. "I've done a lot of illegal shit in my life. This wouldn't be the first." The look on her face automatically makes me believe her. "In high school, this was in my rebellious days. I was about sixteen when my friends and I graffitied a brick building by Rockaway which honestly was kinda fun and freeing. I was addicted to trouble and illegal shit and I don't recommend this life. I would sneak out to concerts of bands that never succeed to be the next Rolling Stones. I was already smoking then too. So it's not surprising I've thought of something illegal."

All of a sudden I'm attached to girls who smoke, wear liner and yell fuck the patriarchy. What the heck has Riley Becker done to my brain?

"Jesus. I'm in the presence of a criminal."                      
"I don't do those kinds of things anymore."She promises with a smile that's almost believable. Almost.

Taking another gulp of coffee, I ask. "I'm gathering that you're okay with being caught by campus security then?"

Riley sighs then she accounts. "I wouldn't say I'm okay with it but I have to do something."

"What residence hall is your classmate from?" I question curiously.

With a quick glance at her phone screen, she mutters. "Bennett Hall."

Sounds familiar.

That's where Samantha stays. "I know the RA."

Immediately, Riley perks up, green eyes searching my face. "Wait. Seriously?"

I nod and she sees how serious I am. "Yeah. She's an... old friend."

Somehow amusement flashes in her eyes. "So someone you fucked. Got it." Although it's quick that look turns to jealousy.

"I never said that." Am I that readable?

She smiles, whatever look she had a second ago vanished. "You didn't have to. I know exactly what 'old friend' means."

"I'm sending her a quick text." I say before she has an objection. Samantha answers right away like she's been waiting by her phone. For a few minutes, I'm texting back and forth, my eyes lifting up to look at Riley and they always meet hers because she's watching me with an expression and occasionally taking bites of her sandwich. "She's there right now. Let's go."

I wait for her to finish the sandwich she was eating and I drink my coffee. We discard the trash when we're leaving and I tuck my hands into the pockets on my jeans for some warmth. The cold air flushes Riley's cheeks. She switches position and starts walking in front of me and my gaze lowers to her ass. Jesus Christ. Biggest mistake. Her butt is round and plump and God—delicious— how does she have an ass like that? I'm not judging either I'm seriously trying to comprehend here because I've never seen anyone as thin as her with it but I force myself to look away because I'm a goddamn gentleman. I swing by her side, caging her in on the pavement and her pace slows then our strides seem to match afterwards.

Silence hangs over us and I decide to break it. "So, when did you start painting?"

Riley lets out a breath. "Since I was a kid,"She's quiet for a second then she says, "If I'm  being true to myself it was a distraction from my mom's lack of attention. But my love for art grew the older I got." Few more steps on the pavement, Taft's library appears in few which means that we're closer to Bennett Hall. "Vincent Van Gogh is someone who I admire. Well, his work." She says and that's another person I'll have to look up. "My mother has a painting, called Starry Night, in her living room..." I didn't expect her to share such details but I let her continue. My heart warms at the energy oozing from her. "and I just remember falling in love with it and I guess it turned into the only thing I know how to do. The only thing that I'm really good at. I would suck as an accountant or something office like." She adds.

I know she doesn't need to hear this yet I say it anyway. "I saw your art. You're really good at it. So good that someone stole your work. That's flattering."

She chuckles. "I guess."

Besides, I can't see her as an accountant either. She's free spirited.

I scratch the back of my neck. "You know, I looked up that Tchaikovsky guy."

"I'm shocked you remember the name. Why did you look him up?"

"I wanted to see what you liked so much about him. I was curious. I didn't know who he was so I looked up the ballet performances you were talking about." I shove my hand back into my pocket. "The music does bring out a calmness when you listen to it."

"See? That's why I paint while listening to it." The side of her mouth tilts upwards. "Tell me...when you start hockey. How did you get into it?"

I don't really tell anyone this. Actually, no one's asked before. People just know who I am now and never asked what it took to get here.

"My uncle was a hockey coach so he got me into it as a kid." I start off, she's quiet and listening. "At first it was something that I found fun. It was nothing to pursue. He just thought I'd like it. I ended up loving it. It became all I wanted to do. Live, breath, you know? So he convinced my parents to support it because they didn't know much about it at the time. My parents are like the business type. I would do tryouts as I grew and here I am. My parents love it now. You'll find my Mom wearing a hockey mom shirt and a foam hand in the crowd."

Shit. After saying it I'm reminded that Riley doesn't have that. The supportive Mom.

Riley laughs, sending me a smile of assurance. Her eyes tell me that it's fine. "That's good. I'll look for your Mom in the crowd. As long as hockey is something you love and want to do with your life. Never try to please anyone."

Suddenly, I'm curious. "Have you tried to please anyone?"

"Fuck no."She tells me and that's another thing I like about her. She's herself. "But you know there are people who have faults about certain professions."

"People shit talk about your art?"

"Take getting a degree here for that as an example. There's doubts about being into art. How it won't pay the bills. They could never talk shit about my art because I know I'm talented." She doesn't say it in a cocky way even though she should.

"I say fuck anyone's opinion." I tell her and I mean every word.

"Oh absolutely. I'd not be here if I let people's opinion affect me. I'd heard it all and I'm still here."

"What do you wanna do after graduation?" I ask, turning in the direction of Bennett Hall.

"I've sold my art before so I wanna do that. Own a gallery or studio that's mine one day." The way her eyes light up when she acknowledges her dream makes me want to freeze the moment and let her stay like that a little longer. "Not just my art. I want to showcase people who are not appropriated, people who were doubted their whole lives. I can't get to that step if I don't get a contract with a gallery owner. I'll work my way up. I never want to stop painting."

I simply nudge her in the side. "You're ambitious. You got this."

"Thanks." She smiles wide. Jeez. I remember when she didn't smile or at least I never saw her do it and now it's one of my favorite things to see on her face. "I can't do that when people are stealing my stuff. My focus was getting into The Book Show. Now it's getting proof that my art is actually mine. What is life?"

I drink in our environment. The campus buzz died and now it's all quiet. There's hardly anyone in sight. It's just Samantha standing outside Bennett Hall in a neon pink oversized sweater. Riley and I can't enter the building without an ID that will be recognized in the system as residents to gain access.

"Asher, hi." She greets, waving me over.

She's pretty. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. The type that fits into sororities. Don't get me wrong, I use to be attracted to her but she's got nothing on Riley. This girl came into my head and pushed out anyone that was ever there before her.

"Hey," I greet back. "This is Riley."

"Hi, I'm Samantha. What do you guys want my help with?" She goes in straight and I don't blame her, there's no time to waste. I didn't explain details in the text messages we had.

"Do you happen to know someone called Jade Driscoll?" Riley asks.

A look of concentration appears on Samantha's face before she replies. "Yeah. I know her. Why?"

Riley doesn't hold back. "She stole something from me. If I don't get into her room to see if she stash it somewhere as my proof I might be in big trouble next Tuesday."

Samantha's blonde brow lifts. "What did she steal?"

I see Riley's chest rise. "A page from my sketchbook and painted it like it was hers and yes I'm dead serious. That's what she stole."

Disbelief oozes from Samantha's voice. "She stole another person's school work?"

Riley's facial muscles tighten. "What? She's done this before?"

Samantha nods her head. "Yes. You're the third person to mention Jade stealing from them."

Goddamn Jade.

I don't know if it's just me but I know I just saw Riley's left eye twitch. "Who are the other two people?" She requests.

Samantha bites her lip. "I can't disclose their names. I'm sorry."

Riley sighs and squeezes her eyes shut. "Right. Of course."

I step into the conversation. "So, you can't help at all? We need access to Jade's room. Please."

Samantha comes closer and lowers her voice. "I'm not allowed to give you access to Jade's room. That's—that's not what I... I could lose my job." She sighs. "I could get in trouble." She looks at both Riley and me. "If I do this. I don't want to be involved. I could give both of you the keys. But you can't look now. You have to come back another time, Jade's roommate isn't leaving for thanksgiving and I think she's going out with her boyfriend to Echo tonight."

The bar I was at around three weeks ago?Interesting that's where people are spending their night before Thanksgiving.

Riley nods her head. "Perfect time to sneak in."

Samantha turns to me. "I'll text you when she leaves. Be ready and make it quick, okay? I can't give you the keys or my ID now because of the cameras."

"Thanks. We owe you." Riley blurts.

"Just don't get caught. That's what you both can do for me." Samantha says. "Remember... I'm not involved in this if anything happens."

We're walking away and completely out of earshot when I hear Riley laughing.

"What?" My brows knit.

"She totally wants you,"Riley notes, referring to Samantha. "That girl would do anything for you. She went against her moral compass—her job— not for me but for you. Why did you end things with her?"

"Wrong person." I supply, staring straight ahead. "FWB is never a good thing all right? There's always expectations. Samantha's my friend, that's all there ever will be."

"So you're saying you ended the fuck buddy situation because she wanted to go further?" Riley's blunt as hell.

"Precisely." It's never just FWB. It could be for me but never some girls. Secretly wanting more. There's nothing wrong with that but that would mean FWB isn't what is it anymore.

Yes I trusted her which is why we could scratch each other's itch but relationships isn't just a title. I need to know is she good with kids? Does my son like her? Does she just want to be with me because of what my life will look in a couple months? Does she want to deal with my son's mother?

Samantha was all right at the time and I wasn't going to be throwing my dick everywhere. Her life is different than mine and not everyone can handle being with somebody and their kid. I'm a package deal. My son comes along with me. I'm not a guy who sees the future knowing it won't work out and still jump into a relationship.

"You didn't want to go further? I thought you were a relationship type of guy." Riley voices, looking over at me for a brief moment.

She's right about that. I'm a relationship type of guy. I use to be. I haven't had a relationship since Layla. My son's mother.

I know it looks like I don't want one. But I do. I didn't find the right girl who I trust, who could fit into to my life and love my son as much as she loves me.

No college girl wants to deal with that.

The girl I want won't ever be in a FWB situation with me. She'll know I want more. She'll know I want her.

"I didn't see myself with her long term."

Riley doesn't question further. "Okay I see. Well she'll text you about the keys and her ID."

"Yeah." We're not too far from Sippers Coffeehouse. "What's the plan after we find the evidence?"

—-

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is a long chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed it! I wasn't going to upload because I'm not well but why not. Have a good weekend! See you guys soon❤️