M A D I E
September Sixteenth
Four
You got a compliment today.
Your boyfriend took you out to eat, and it was nice.
You feel valued.
But you know that you only feel like you're worth something because someone else told you that you were.
And you don't know how to fix it.
—
Lunch was fantastic.
I used to be a believer that pizza solved all problems—a little bit of grease fattened the soul, just like it fattened the heart.
It was a problematic approach to life, but who didn't eat their feelings every now and then?
Quinton took me to a pizzeria between our morning and afternoon classes today, and I devoured those little woodfired slices of heaven. He was sweet, peppering me with supportive words and asking me about my day. He asked for updates on chemistry, which unfortunately were not great, and if I'd made any new friends in my classes.
Lunch was fantastic.
But then the moment we returned to the dorms, and I crossed the commons to say hi to Bren, Quinton's mood soured. He dropped me off at my room without so much as a goodbye before leaving.
And now, greasy pepperoni was rolling around in my gut.
Needless to say, I was rethinking the power of pizza.
"Are you going to throw up?"
Lifting my head off my daisy-patterned duvet, I looked to see my roommate waltzing into the room. I threw down the book I was pretending to read.
"It's possible. The verdict is still out."
She made a face, her little button nose scrunching up.
"Don't give me that look," I said. "I might just aim for your bed, Wednesday."
"Don't do that. And for crying out loud, don't call me Wednesday."
I sat up all the way, smirking. "It just suits you, you know?" Wednesday—or Nessa, as she preferred to be called—had long, dark hair that framed her face in straight sheets. Her constantly exasperated attitude and flat, brown eyes matched so well with the Wednesday Addams aesthetic that it was almost creepy at times.
She rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack onto the bed and beginning to rummage through it. "Yeah, I know it suits me. That's the problem." Her hands full of textbooks, she turned toward me. "But really, what's wrong?"
It was funny how quickly you got to know someone when forced to live in a one hundred thirty square foot room with them. When I didn't answer right away, she raised a brow.
"It's nothing," I said, pushing thoughts of earlier away. "Just..." I sighed. "Nothing."
Her lips quirked in a way that told me she didn't believe me, but that was fine. She didn't need to believe me; she needed to stop asking questions.
After setting the textbooks on her desk with a loud thud, Nessa said, "I ran into this guy named Beau in the hallway. He invited me to a party tonight, and I think we should go."
"A party?" I repeated, uncertain. "I don't know. I'll have to see what Quinton is doing."
Nessa flashed me an annoyed look. "Didn't you just have lunch with him?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So separate from that boyfriend of yours for once, and let's have a girls' night," she pleaded. "Please?"
I wanted to say yes. Going to a party with Nessa sounded like the perfect way to get my mind off of the bad pizza. Adding shitty alcohol to the mix would undoubtedly help ease my stomach troubles. Well, maybe it would help me forget them.
But Quinton was already irritated with me, and I didn't want to add more fuel to the fire. At the very least, I should text him to see what his plans were for the evening.
Me: Hey, baby. What are you up to tonight?
I fiddled around while waiting for a reply, pretending to look at social media so I could ignore the glare from Nessa. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long.
Q: Going to the gym.
I stared at the simple sentence and frowned. After dating him for four years, I'd learned that Quinton was not an elaborate texter. But because of his brevity earlier, it didn't take much to bother me.
This bothered me.
Q: You?
Interesting how one little question made me feel different.
Me: Okay! I think I'm going to hang out with Nessa then.
Q: You girls have fun.
With a sigh of relief, I glanced up to see Nessa's expectant face.
"So?"
"Let's do it."
A few hours later, we strolled into a dumpy little house right off of campus. The lights were low, the main floor packed. The music was loud but not overly so. I didn't have to strain my ears to hear Nessa's ongoing narration of the hot guys in the room, and it took no time at all to realize that her type was completely different than mine. I'd always been attracted to the straight-laced, attractive athletes--no surprise there.
But Nessa kept pointing out all the boys in-between—the wannabe hipsters, the actual hipsters, the skaters, the guys who proudly displayed their nerdy quirks, and even those moody types who just kind of glared at everyone from the corner. Nessa liked the sort of guy who probably made fun of jocks while spending his whole day on Reddit and listened to music that no one knew about yet.
That was why it didn't surprise me when her attention eventually landed on the sharp profile of Bren Hadaway.
"I think he's Beau's roommate," she said in my ear. "He's fine."
It was hard to know how to reply. She wasn't wrong. Regardless of my type, I could acknowledge that Bren was attractive. But mostly, I was just happy to see him here. I was thankful to know someone besides Nessa in this crush of bodies.
"Yeah, we've met," I replied, craning my head back to look at her. "His name is Bren."
"He has that mysterious, brooding vibe," Nessa added approvingly. "I overheard some girls in the bathroom on our floor say that he's quiet. Wouldn't really talk to them when they tried."
Bren leaned against an old door frame, a bottle of something dangling from between his fingers. His attention was on the guy Nessa said was Beau as he perched on the arm of a plaid sofa, telling some story about a trip to Mexico gone wrong.
A blonde girl sat to Bren's right, her top so low-cut that I wouldn't be surprised if a nipple popped out if she moved too quickly. Although the way that she swayed while holding her cup made me think that she wouldn't be doing anything very fast. The girl kept stealing glances up at Bren. He didn't seem to notice.
I had a feeling that it wasn't so much that Bren was quiet or trying to ignore girls; he was just oblivious to his affect on them.
He shifted his head to the side, and our eyes linked. I waved at him from across the room, shooting a small smile in his direction.
His response was less than enthusiastic, a flick of his wrist and a nod of his head. In fact, it was almost like I was the last person he wanted to see walk into this party.
Shifting on his feet, Bren glanced at the ceiling as he took a large swig from his bottle.
Trying to mask my frown, I drank from my own cup. It was a mixed drink, but that didn't mean it was mixed well. The taste of vodka hit my tongue, taking the edge off of Bren's dismissal.
Guys could be so moody, and it was especially a problem today. I didn't understand why women got all the shit for being emotional. It wasn't fair; Quinton had been short with me all afternoon for merely saying hi to Bren, and now look what I was getting for my friendliness.
A blow-off.
I gulped my drink, ignoring how awful it tasted. I knew I was staring again—glaring at Bren ever since I waved at him, and he'd barely acknowledged me. He was actively trying to look anywhere but at me. It was painfully obvious, and it stung.
I wasn't sure why it stung, but it did.
At some point during my one-sided staring contest, Nessa disappeared. It was probably to go talk to the guy with the Game of Thrones t-shirt that I saw her eyeing up earlier. Whoever she found to talk to, they would undoubtedly love the attention. Nessa was someone who everyone wanted around—a gorgeous girl with a witty, dry sense of humor that instantly caught attention.
Jealousy nagged in the back of my head, and I pushed it aside.
Screw this.
Lifting my sandal-covered feet from the sticky tiles on the floor, I cut through the party-goers and headed straight for Bren.
—
September Sixteenth
Two
Try to remind yourself that your worth doesn't depend on other people recognizing it.
🖤
Thanks for reading chapter five of It Burns Within Us! I like writing Madie's POV, but I think I enjoy Bren's even more. So I'm excited to share the next chapter from his perspective!