Chapter 5 5

Even though it's raining on my way to university, I'm used to it. I used to enjoy spending hours in the rain when my parents argued. Their shouts haunted my head, making me feel small and worthless. Sometimes, I even believed that they were fighting because of me, but that was nonsense. I had nothing to do with them; I don't know what went through their minds when they saw me sitting by the window, crying. They never said anything to me; I don't think they ever cared that their shouts made me go outside and cry inconsolably. They never paid attention to it.

It amused me when I fell sick days later, and they wondered among themselves what could have happened for me to get sick.

Inside, I told myself, "But they saw me, why are they saying that?" After years of doing it, I understood that they didn't see me. They only peeked through the window to see if the neighbors were eavesdropping, and when no one was there, they would close the window and resume their fights. No matter what happened, my mother could never see beyond her own eyes. It was hard for me to believe that this time would be different, that she would change, that she would be a better person. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that she would do something like that.

"Hey, want a ride?" Floyd called out.

I turned with a frown, and there he was in his car with two of his friends. I looked puzzled, glancing around to make sure he was talking to me, and yes, he kept looking at me, waiting for some reaction.

"I won't ride with you to the university," I made a face.

"You treated me like trash yesterday, too," he chuckled. "So, I'm not blaming you for it. I just want to make amends."

"Well, you know what? I refuse to keep getting soaked for such nonsense."

I opened the car door and got in. The gray-eyed guy was sitting in the passenger seat, and the redhead was in the backseat. I sat with the gray-eyed guy, and he looked at me.

"I could get you wet without making you angry," he said.

"And I could leave you without eyes, but we're not talking about that, are we?"

"He's got guts," the guy next to me mentioned. "I'm Will, and the idiot is Harrison."

"Don't bother her," Floyd grumbled. "She's sensitive to mean comments."

"Don't fuck with me, Jane. Stop trying to make me look bad."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed the sunglasses from the glove compartment. Neither of them said anything for the entire drive. When Floyd stopped one street before reaching the university, I furrowed my brow. What he had said was a joke; I didn't care if people saw us together. Besides, getting under the skin of the snobby girls wasn't a problem for me.

"Get out."

But apparently, it was a problem for him.

"Excuse me?" I spat.

"I said get out, are you deaf?"

"Thanks for everything, asshole."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

I took my bag and angrily arrested him for his car. When I was outside, I flipped him off, and he burst into laughter. I didn't know what he found so funny. My mind was filled with thoughts of everything that could be wrong with me, making him not want to be seen arriving with someone like me. Honestly, I should be the one who doesn't want to see him. He's a selfish, arrogant, and foolish guy. His grades have always been deplorable, and his friends rarely say anything coherent. They usually talk about the last time they saw a girl or what they did with her.

He did me a favor, and I was still furious because his favor made me feel insecure. I arrived at the university and ran to hug Abbott. His huge body greeted me with a disgruntled face, crossing his arms like a child.

"Everyone is talking about how you were at Floyd's house yesterday, Jane. What were you doing there, Cora?" he said.

"What are you talking about?" I stopped, furrowing my brow. He took out his phone from his left pocket and showed me a photo. It was from behind, my hand with the pizza wasn't visible, and the slogan of the place wasn't in the picture. It looked like we were talking as friends, and that disturbed me. Life had done its thing, letting people know that Floyd had some involvement with me. I wanted to laugh, but the laughter escaped me as I started to read the comments.

"Why does everyone think I was stalking him like a creep?"

"It's not just that," he smiled, tousling his hair. "Some people think he's in love with you, Cora. People always look for something to talk about. They saw you together, and now they have something to talk about," he commented as if it was obvious. "Just give them something else to talk about."

"No way, Abbott. I'll leave everything as it is."

"Okay, I don't want to hear complaints about this topic."

"You won't hear any," I forced a smile.

"Lie, lie, lie." Everything was falling apart around me. I had believed that they would stop talking as time passed. I spent hours smiling at people and the girls who passed by my side. My best friend thought I was crazy; he even told me. My smile didn't seem real; it was far from it. I pretended to enjoy this whole theater because in my mind, they would think I didn't care, and they would stop talking. That was my plan.

Or at least it was until I noticed that I was making it worse. For people, my psycho smile meant that what had happened or what they believed was true. Floyd has taken his time to come and scream at me. I can even smell death. My death, to be more specific.

My relationship with my mother is still trapped in a dead-end maze. I wish I could resolve everything with her, and at the same time, I wish I knew if she was lying to me or not. The makeup I was wearing has completely smudged; I'd been crying in the bathroom for quite some time.

"And what will you do, you useless piece of shit? Let everyone believe you're with that girl?" someone says. I open my eyes wide and stay in my place, silent and unmoving. I'm in one of the stalls, sitting on the toilet. When I lift my legs, they can't hear me, allowing me to listen and gather information about these idiots.

"Her name is Cora, she goes by the name Will, she was with us in the car."

"Damn it, I already know that."

Floyd, his tone sounding softer, calmer, less exaggerated. His voice has changed and sounds somewhat more masculine. I realize that I've walked into the men's restroom and rolled my eyes in place. I shouldn't have come in here; anyone could come and open this flimsy door that separates us.

"Will, if people think that Cora and I are together, it will ruin my reputation. I've never been with a girl, you know why. It's impossible to have a girlfriend and run a marketing company alone, at least, it's impossible for me. My agent tells me every day that I need to show my face, that the employees want to know who their boss is, and of course, my audience wants to see me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I should get out of here; this wasn't how I imagined I would experience my misfortunes or discover Floyd's biggest secret if that is indeed his biggest secret. I thought it was all in my head and the heads of others. But it was real; he has secrets, big secrets. I still haven't fully grasped the fact that Floyd Jane is the entrepreneur everyone talks about on social media. Everyone wants to know who he is, and how he got where he is, without showing his face. And to be honest, I want to know too. We're all here to be where Floyd is someday, to have that fame and arrogance he possesses.

"I'll fix it, I'll talk to her and have her say she's a pizza delivery person."

"No, no, don't do that. It's obvious she doesn't want people to know."

"I'm about to explode! What do you want me to do then?"

"Nothing, I'll take care of it."

"I can do it."

"I'll talk to her," Floyd insisted. "I'll use my charm and suggest we make a video together saying we're best friends. That way, people will assume that if they see us together, it's because we're just friends, he emphasized, the idiot but clever Floyd."

To say that Floyd is clever disgusts me. I've spent more than four semesters believing he's a nobody, living off his parents, and that his intelligence is as small as a grain of rice. I don't know what my mind was thinking when I walked through the hallways and lit a cigarette out of nowhere. To me, it was like saying, "I'll be a drug addict in the future."

A cockroach appeared running across the bathroom, and I involuntarily screamed. The guys outside fell silent, I fell silent until they opened the door to where I was, and Floyd widened his eyes. His mood swings were amusing to witness-he went from being extremely happy to confused, furrowing his brow, and then showed signs of being very angry. The veins in his neck started to show, and I closed my eyes.

"What are you doing in there, hiding?" Floyd asked sarcastically, grabbing me by the arm and making me come out of the bathroom stall. "We're going to talk about this right now."