After
By Anna Todd
4/5
()
About this ebook
Tessa goes off to college with a dependable boyfriend waiting at home and her life and career neatly planned out. On her first day on campus, everything shifts when she encounters Hardin. With his disheveled brown locks, cocky British charm, and a canvas of tattoos, he’s a stark departure from her familiar world.
But Hardin’s rudeness borders on cruelty, and Tessa resolves to hate him. At least until they share a charged moment alone—and suddenly, Tessa is questioning everything she’s ever known about herself.
Despite his hot-and-cold attitude, Tessa is drawn to uncover the hidden layers within Hardin. In the midst of her newfound independence and electrifying uncertainty, Tessa’s connection with Hardin feels like the passionate love she’s been looking for. With her carefully laid plans forever disrupted, what comes after?
Anna Todd
Anna Todd is the New York Times bestselling author of the After series. Always an avid reader, she began writing stories on her phone on Wattpad, the global multiplatform entertainment company for original stories, with After becoming the most read series on the platform. The print edition was published in 2014. It has been published in over thirty languages, with more than eight million copies sold worldwide, and is a #1 bestseller in Italy, Germany, France, and Spain. Find her at AnnaTodd.com, on X at @annatodd, on Instagram at @imaginator1d, and on Wattpad as Imaginator1D.
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Reviews for After
914 ratings46 reviews
What our readers think
Readers find this title to be a roller coaster of emotions, filled with love and passion. The complex relationship between the characters is enjoyable to read, and the book is described as beautiful and gripping. While some reviewers had issues with the ending or certain aspects of the story, overall, readers loved the book and couldn't put it down. The book is praised for its angsty and gutsy female lead. However, there are also negative reviews that criticize the glorification of an abusive and toxic relationship. Despite the mixed opinions, the majority of readers highly recommend this emotional and gripping series.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Loved the book, hated the ending! On to book 2~
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5That ending had me in tears - and I NEVER cry through a book!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I unfortunately discovered this book after the movie, and I must say the book is far better than the movie. It is disappointing to see the movie missing so many chapters from the book and altering so many things. But this is one of the best books if read
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This book is MUCH better than the movies. However it is way dramatic! But I still found myself unable to put it down. Not my top read this year but still very good.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Shocking wow??? so full of vagrants, so wanting to know more❤♥
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, reading this. I fell in love with Hardin and omg the story was perfect.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I was so not expecting that ending. I thought it would end with Hardin turning out to be some sort of drug dealer or having a terminal disease, but this...wow...I really liked reading this book.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5such a great book, i loved it and i loved the movir
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I’m so in love with this story! I’ve read all the books in the ‘After’ series multiple times and cried over and over. I’ve also watched the movies - After and After we collided. I can’t wait to watch the last two installments of the movie series based off the book series of it. I can’t start to explain—-praise, this story. Anna, you’re one hell of an author. I love you so much for all the hard-work and effort you put into these stories. It means so much to me. And now….my ultimate All-Time FAVORITE forever and always, IS AFTER!!!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5it was a really good book, better than the movie
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book was a roller coaster of emotions. The way that Anna Todd describes everything that happens so perfectly makes the book even better to read. The end was shocking and very unexpected.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5a very amazing book i felt all the emotion and love in the book i cant wait to read the rest of the books, Anna Todd is an amazing and i cant wait tell the next after movie to come out in to cinemas, i totally recommend this book to teens and above!!!! :)
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/54.75⭐️. This can never be 5⭐️ because of the cheating.
However, I loved this book. Not a single moment of this book was boring. It was a rollercoaster of emotions. I fell in love with the characters when I watched the movie. And I needed to know more. I’m so glad I read this book. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The ending......
I remember reading this first in Wattpad and now being a publish book with a movie makes me feel so old. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5EVERYTHING WAS AMAZING I LOVED IT SO MUCH GOOD JOB
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book is amazing, If you liked the book The Beautiful Disaster, you will love this book to!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5i love this book it is so sad n emotional i cant wait to read the next book.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5el libro es hermoso habla de muchos temas de la adolescencia y no hace ver lo que es una relación tóxica.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Best book ever !!!!!!!!!!!! I have read all the parts.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Use a thesaurus. They won't bite you. It doesn't hurt.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This was truly an inspiring read! The literature references, the pain and truly awe inspiring love.... I mean it just.., wow ❤️
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5truly in love with this book, I first read it in 2014 on Wattpad and fell in love with Hessa immediately. It's a book that you will never be able to put down, and will want to reread over and over again.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I loved this! I can’t wait to read the next one!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5LOVE LOVE LOVE this book! Finally a book that is angsty with a gutsy female lead. I was so sick of smooth sailing books. I can’t wait to read the next one!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5My favorite part was the lake seeing Hardin and Tessa kissed with so much passion.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Amazing book! So crazy, was reading it on one breath!!!
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book is sooooo messed up. No, it's Hardin... I just finished the first book and even if the book series ends well, Hardin's charachter is soooo messed up, cruel, sick, twisted... He caused her so much pain. I mean even I was hurt. I have never read anything like this before and I don't know what to think. Book itself is very easy to read, you just got sucked into the story. If you are looking for some nice, "light" book, this isn't for you. If you are looking for distraction, you're welcome.
2 people found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5the way its written is so beautiful. I felt Tessa’s heartbreak at the end
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/52 stars b/c I actually kept reading. Perhaps I should give it three b/c it did hold my attention - but I felt like I was reading 50 Shades, Twilight, and Beautiful Disaster all rolled up into one. The "story" is nothing new but if you're a fan of tween reads, you'll make it through it. I, like most, was too curious not to read the fanfiction that was causing such a stir and it was much what I expected - a quick tween read. In my humble opinion, these types of books aren't written to win literary prizes - they are written to pull emotions out of people and I must say this was full of emotion. So for that I say "well done" to the author.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5It’s seriously such a great book I watched the movies first and was so intrigued that I just had to read the books as well. I normally hate reading and never do but for some reason I am HOOKED and have read the first book in only a couple days. ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT!
Book preview
After - Anna Todd
prologue
College had always seemed so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future. We live in a time where people ask which school you went to before asking your last name. From an early age I was taught, trained really, to prepare for my education. It had become this necessity that required an overwhelming amount of preparation and borderline obsession. Every class I chose, every assignment I completed since my first day of high school revolved around getting into college. And not just any college—my mother had it set in her mind that I attend Washington Central University, the same school that she attended, but never completed.
I had no idea that there would be so much more to college than academics. I had no idea that choosing which electives to take during my first semester would seem, just a few months later, like trivial affairs. I was naïve then, and in some ways I still am. But I couldn’t have possibly known what lay ahead of me. Meeting my dorm-mate was intense and awkward from the start, and meeting her wild group of friends even more so. They were so different from anyone I had ever known and I was intimidated by their appearance, confused by their pure inattention to structure. I quickly became a part of their madness, indulging in it…
And that’s when he crept into my heart.
From our first encounter, Hardin changed my life in ways that no amount of college prep courses or youth group lectures could have. Those movies I watched as a teen quickly became my life, and those ridiculous plotlines became my reality. Would I have done anything differently if I had known what was to come? I’m not sure. I would love to give a straight answer to that, but I can’t. At times I am grateful, so utterly lost in the moment of passion that my judgment is clouded and all I can see is him. Other times, I think of the pain he caused me, the deep sting of loss for who I had been, the chaos of those moments when I felt as if my world had been turned upside down, and the answer isn’t as clear as it once was.
All that I’m certain of is that my life and my heart will never be the same, not after Hardin crashed into them.
chapter one
My alarm is set to go off any minute. I’ve been awake for half the night, shifting back and forth, counting the lines between the ceiling tiles and repeating the course schedule in my head. Others may count sheep; I plan. My mind doesn’t allow a break from planning, and today, the most important day in my entire eighteen years of life, is no exception.
Tessa!
I hear my mother’s voice call from downstairs. Groaning to myself, I roll out of my tiny bed. I take my time tucking the corners of my bedsheet against the headboard, because this is the last morning that this will be a part of my regular routine. After today, this bedroom is no longer my home.
Tessa!
she calls again.
I’m up!
I yell back. The noise of the cabinets opening and slamming closed downstairs makes it known that she is feeling just as panicked as I am. My stomach is tied in a tight knot, and as I start my shower I pray that the anxiety I feel will lessen as the day goes on. All of my life has been a series of tasks in preparation for this day, my first day of college.
I spent the last few years nervously anticipating this. I spent my weekends studying and preparing for this as my peers were hanging out, drinking, and doing whatever else it is teenagers do to get themselves in trouble. That wasn’t me. I was the girl who spent her nights studying cross-legged on the living room floor with my mother while she gossiped and watched hours of QVC to find new ways to improve her appearance.
The day my acceptance letter to Washington Central University came I couldn’t have been more thrilled—and my mother cried for what felt like hours. I can’t deny that I was proud that all my hard work had finally paid off. I got into the only college I applied for and, because of our low income, I have enough grants to keep my student loans to a minimum. I had once, for just a moment, considered leaving Washington for college. But seeing all the color drain from my mother’s face at the suggestion, and the way she paced around the living room for nearly an hour, I told her I really hadn’t been serious about that.
The moment I step into the spray of shower water some of the tension leaves my strained muscles. I’m standing here, under the hot water, trying to calm my mind, but really doing the opposite, and I get so distracted that by the time I finally wash my hair and body, I barely have enough hot water to run a razor over my legs from the knees down.
As I wrap the towel around my wet body, my mother calls my name yet again. Knowing that it’s her nerves getting the best of her, I give her some leeway but take the time to blow-dry my hair. I know that she’s anxious for my arrival day at college, but I have had this day planned down to the hour for months. Only one of us can be a nervous wreck, and I need to do what I can to make sure it’s not me by following my plan.
My hands shake as I fumble with the zipper on my dress. I don’t care for the thing, but my mother insisted that I wear it. I finally win the battle with the zipper, and pull my favorite sweater from the back of my closet door. As soon as I’m dressed, I feel slightly less nervous, until I notice a small tear on the sleeve of my sweater. I toss it back onto my bed and slip my shoes onto my feet, knowing that my mother is growing more impatient with every second that passes.
My boyfriend, Noah, will be here soon to ride up with us. He’s a year younger than me but will turn eighteen soon. He’s brilliant and has straight A’s just like I did, and—I’m so excited—he’s planning on joining me at WCU next year. I really wish he was coming now, especially considering that I won’t know a single person at college, but I’m thankful that he’s promised to visit as often as possible. I just need a decent roommate; that’s the only thing I’m asking for and the only thing I can’t control with my planning.
Ther-e-saaaa!
"Mother, I am coming down now. Please do not scream my name again!" I yell as I walk down the stairs. Noah is sitting at the table across from my mother, staring down at the watch on his wrist. The blue of his polo shirt matches the light blue of his eyes, and his blond hair is combed and lightly gelled to perfection.
Hey, college girl.
He smiles a bright, perfectly lined smile as he stands. He pulls me into a tight hug and I close my mouth when I catch his excessive cologne. Yeah, sometimes he overdoes it a bit with that.
Hey.
I give him an equally bright smile, trying to hide my nerves, and pull my dirty blond hair into a ponytail.
Honey, we can wait a couple minutes while you fix your hair,
my mother says quietly.
I make my way to the mirror and nod; she’s right. My hair needs to be presentable for today, and of course she didn’t hesitate to remind me. I should have curled it the way she likes anyhow, as a little goodbye gift.
I’ll put your bags in the car,
Noah offers, opening his palm for my mother to drop the keys into. With a quick kiss on my cheek he disappears from the room, bags in hand, and my mother follows him.
Round two of styling my hair ends with a better result than the first, and I brush a lint roller over my gray dress one last time.
As I go outside and walk to the car packed up with my things, the butterflies in my stomach dance around, making me slightly relieved that I have a two-hour drive to make them disappear.
I have no idea what college will be like, and, unexpectedly, the question that keeps dominating my thoughts is: Will I make any friends?
chapter two
I wish I could say that the familiar scenery of my home state calmed me as we drove, or that a sense of adventure took hold of me with each sign that indicated we were getting closer and closer to Washington Central. But really I was mostly in a daze of planning and obsessing. I’m not even sure what Noah was really talking about, but I know he was trying to be reassuring and excited for me.
"Here we are!" my mother squeals when we drive through a stone gate and onto campus. It looks just as great in person as it did in the brochures and online, and I’m immediately impressed by the elegant stone buildings. Hundreds of people, parents hugging and kissing their children goodbye, clusters of freshmen dressed head to toe in WCU gear, and a few stragglers, lost and confused, fill the area. The size of the campus is intimidating, but hopefully after a few weeks I will feel at home.
My mother insists that she and Noah accompany me to freshman orientation. My mother manages to hold a smile on her face the entire three hours and Noah listens intently, the same way that I do.
I would like to see your dorm room before we head out. I need to make sure everything’s up to par,
my mother says once orientation is over. Her eyes scan the old building, full of disapproval. She has a way of finding the worst in things. Noah smiles, lightening the mood, and my mother perks up.
I just can’t believe you’re in college! My only daughter, a college student, living on her own. I just can’t believe it,
she whines, dabbing under her eyes, though careful not to mess up her makeup. Noah follows behind us, carrying my bags as we navigate through the corridors.
It’s B22… we are in C hall,
I tell them. Luckily, I see a large B painted on the wall. Down here,
I instruct when my mother begins to turn the opposite way. I’m thankful that I only brought a few clothes, a blanket, and some of my favorite books along so Noah doesn’t have too much to carry and I won’t have too much to unpack.
B22,
my mother huffs. Her heels are outrageously high for the amount of walking we endure. At the end of a long hallway, I slide the key into the old wooden door, and when it creaks open my mother lets out a loud gasp. The room is small, with two single beds and two desks. After a moment, my eyes travel to the reason behind my mother’s surprise: one side of the room is covered in music posters of bands that I’ve never heard of, the faces on them covered in piercings and their bodies with tattoos. And then there’s the girl lying across one bed, and her bright red hair, eyes lined with what looks like inches of black liner, and arms covered in colorful tattoos.
Hey,
she says, offering a smile, a smile that I find quite intriguing, much to my surprise. I’m Steph.
She sits up on her elbows, causing her cleavage to push tight against her laced-up top, and I gently kick at Noah’s shoe when his eyes focus on her chest.
H-hey. I’m Tessa,
I choke, all of my manners flying out the door.
Hey, Tessa, nice to meet you. Welcome to WCU, where the dorms are tiny and the parties are huge.
The crimson-haired girl grins wider. Her head falls back into a fit of laughter as she takes in the three horrified expressions in front of her. My mother’s jaw is wide open, practically on the carpet, and Noah shifts uncomfortably. Steph walks over, closing the gap between us, and wraps her thin arms around my body. I’m frozen for a moment, surprised by her affection, but I return her kind gesture. A knock sounds at the door just as Noah drops my bags onto the floor, and I can’t help but hope that this is all some sort of joke.
Come in!
my new roommate yells. The door opens and two boys walk inside before she finishes her greeting.
Boys inside the female dorms on the first day? Maybe Washington Central was a bad decision. Or perhaps I could have found a way to screen my roommate first? I assume by the pained expression covering my mother’s face that her thoughts have taken the same course. The poor woman looks like she might pass out any moment.
Hey, you Steph’s roomie?
one of the boys asks. His blond hair is styled straight up and there are sections of brown peeking through. His arms are scattered with tattoos and the earrings in his ear are the size of a nickel.
Um… yes. My name is Tessa,
I manage to say.
I’m Nate. Don’t look so nervous,
he says with a smile, reaching out to touch my shoulder. You’ll love it here.
His expression is warm and inviting despite his harsh appearance.
I’m ready, guys,
Steph says, grabbing a heavy black bag from her bed. My eyes shift to the tall brown-haired boy leaning against the wall. His hair is a mop of thick waves on his head, pushed back off his forehead, and he has metal in his eyebrow and lip. My focus moves down his black T-shirt to his arms, which are also covered in tattoos; not an inch of untouched skin is seen. Unlike Steph’s and Nate’s, his appear to be all black, gray, and white. He’s tall, lean, and I know that I’m staring at him in the most impolite way, but I can’t seem to look away.
I expect him to introduce himself the way that his friend did, but he stays quiet, rolling his eyes in annoyance and pulling a cell phone from the pocket of his tight black jeans. He definitely isn’t as friendly as Steph or Nate. He’s more appealing, though; something about him makes it hard to tear my eyes from his face. I’m vaguely aware of Noah’s eyes on me as I finally look away and pretend I was staring out of shock.
Because that’s what it is, right?
See you around, Tessa,
Nate says and the three of them exit the room. I let out a long breath. Calling the last few minutes uncomfortable would be an understatement.
You’re getting a new dorm!
my mother roars as soon as the door clicks shut.
No, I can’t.
I sigh. It’s fine, Mother.
I do my best to hide my nerves. I don’t know how well this will work out, either, but the last thing I want is my overbearing mother causing a scene on my first day of college. I’m sure she won’t be around much at all anyway,
I try to convince her, along with myself.
Absolutely not. We are going to switch now.
Her clean appearance clashes with the anger in her face; her long blond hair is flipped to one shoulder, yet every curl is still perfectly intact. You will not room with someone who allows men in like that—those punks, at that!
I look into her gray eyes, then to Noah. Mother, please, let’s just see how it goes. Please,
I beg. I can’t begin to imagine the mess it would create trying to get a last-minute dorm change. And how humiliating it would feel.
My mother looks around to the room again, taking in the décor covering Steph’s side, and huffs dramatically at the dark theme.
Fine,
she spits out, much to my surprise. But we’re going to have a little talk before I go.
chapter three
An hour later, after listening to my mother warn me against the dangers of parties and college men—and using some language that’s rather uncomfortable for Noah and me to hear from her—she finally makes her move to leave. In her usual style, a quick hug and kiss, she exits the dorm room, informing Noah that she will wait for him in the car.
I’ll miss having you around every day,
he says softly and pulls me into his arms. I inhale his cologne, the one I bought him two Christmases in a row, and sigh. Some of the overpowering scent has worn off, and I realize that I’ll miss this smell and the comfort and familiarity that go along with it, no matter how many times I complained about it in the past.
I’ll miss you, too, but we can talk every day,
I promise and tighten my arms around his torso and nuzzle into his neck. I wish you were here this year.
Noah is only a few inches taller than me, but I like that he doesn’t tower over me. My mother used to tease me growing up, claiming that a man grows an inch for every lie he tells. My father was a tall man, so I won’t argue with her logic there.
Noah brushes his lips across mine… and just then I hear a horn honking in the parking lot.
Noah laughs and breaks away from me. Your mom. She’s persistent.
He kisses me on the cheek and hurries out the door, yelling, Call you tonight!
as he goes.
Left alone, I think about his hasty exit for just a moment and then begin to unpack my bags. Shortly, half my clothes are neatly folded and stored in one of the small dressers; the remainder are hung neatly in my closet. I cringe at the sheer amount of leather and animal print filling the other closet. Still, my curiosity does get the best of me and I find myself running my finger along a dress made of some sort of metal, and another that’s so thin it’s barely there at all.
Feeling the beginnings of exhaustion from the day, I lie across the bed. An unfamiliar loneliness is creeping its way into me already, and it doesn’t help that my roommate is gone, no matter how uncomfortable her friends make me. I have a feeling she will be gone a lot, or, worse, she may have company over too often. Why couldn’t I get a roommate who loved to read and study? I suppose it could be a good thing, because I will have the small room to myself, but I don’t have a good feeling about any of this. So far college is neither what I had dreamed of nor expected.
I remind myself that it’s only been a few hours. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.
I gather my planner and textbooks, taking the time to write down my classes for the semester and my potential meetings for the literary club I plan on joining; I’m still undecided on that, but I read a few student testimonials and want to check it out. I want to try to find a group of like-minded people I can talk to. I don’t expect to make a lot of friends, just enough that I can have someone to maybe eat a meal with every once in a while. I plan for a trip off campus tomorrow to get some more things for my dorm room. I don’t want to crowd my side of the room the way that Steph has, but I would like to add a few things of my own to make me feel more at home in the unfamiliar space. The fact that I don’t have a car yet will make it a little difficult. The sooner I get one, the better. I have enough money from graduation gifts and savings from my summer job at a bookstore, but I’m not sure if I want the stress of owning a car right now. The fact that I live on campus gives me full access to public transport, and I’ve already researched the bus lines. With thoughts of schedules, red-haired girls, and unfriendly men covered in tattoos, I drift to sleep with my planner still in hand.
THE NEXT MORNING Steph is not in her bed. I would like to get to know her, but that might be difficult if she’s never around. Maybe one of the two boys that she was with was her boyfriend? For her sake, I hope it was the blond one.
Grabbing my toiletry bag, I make my way to the shower room. I can already tell that one of my least favorite things about dorm life is going to be the shower situation—I wish each of the rooms had their own bathrooms. It’s awkward, but at least they won’t be coed.
Or… I had assumed they wouldn’t be—wouldn’t everyone assume that? But when I reach the door, sure enough, there are two stick figures printed on the sign, one male and one female. Ugh. I can’t believe they let this kind of thing happen. I can’t believe I didn’t uncover it while I was researching WCU.
Spotting an open shower stall, I skirt through the half-naked boys and girls quickly, pull the curtain closed tight, and undress, then hang my clothes on the rack outside by blindly poking one hand out of the curtain. The shower takes too long to get warm and the entire time I’m in there I’m paranoid that someone will pull back the thin curtain separating my naked body from the rest of the guys and girls out there. Everyone seems to be comfortable with half-naked bodies of both genders walking around; college life is strange so far, and it’s only the second day.
The shower stall is tiny, lined with a small rack to hang my clothes on while I shower and barely enough room to stretch my arms in front of me. I find my mind drifting to Noah and my life back home. Distracted, I turn around and my elbow knocks into the rack, knocking my clothes to the wet floor. The shower pours onto them, completely soaking them.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
I groan to myself, hastily cutting the water off and wrapping my towel around myself. I grab my pile of heavy, soaked clothes and rush down the hall, desperately hoping no one sees me. I reach my room and shove the key in, instantly relaxing when I push the door closed behind me.
Until I turn around to see the rude, tattooed, brown-haired boy sprawled across Steph’s bed.
chapter four
Um… Where is Steph?" I try to sound authoritative, but my voice comes out as more of a squeak. My hands are clenched around the soft fabric of my towel and my eyes keep darting down to make sure it’s actually covering my naked body.
The boy looks at me, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, but doesn’t say a word.
Did you hear me? I asked you where Steph is,
I repeat, trying to be slightly more polite this time.
The expression on his face magnifies and he finally mumbles, I don’t know,
and turns on the small flat screen on Steph’s dresser. What is he even doing in here? Doesn’t he have his own room? I bite my tongue, trying to keep my rude comments to myself.
Okay? Well, could you like… leave or something so I can get dressed?
He hasn’t even noticed I’m in a towel. Or maybe he has but it doesn’t impress him.
Don’t flatter yourself, it’s not like I’m going to look at you,
he scoffs and rolls over, his hands covering his face. He has a thick English accent that I didn’t notice at first. Probably because he was too rude to actually speak to me yesterday.
Unsure how I should respond to his rude remark, I huff and walk to my dresser. Maybe he isn’t straight, maybe that’s what he meant by it’s not like I’m going to look.
Either that or he finds me unattractive. I hastily put on a bra and panties, followed by a plain white shirt and khaki shorts.
Are you done yet?
he asks, snapping the last bit of patience I held.
"Could you be any more disrespectful? I did nothing to you. What is your problem?!" I shout, much louder than I had wanted to, but by the surprised look on his face, my words had the intended effect.
He silently stares at me for a moment. And while I await for his apology… he bursts into laughter. His laugh is deep and would be an almost lovely sound if he didn’t come off so unpleasant. Dimples indent both of his cheeks as he continues on, and I feel like a complete idiot, unsure what to do or say. I don’t usually like conflict and this boy seems like the last person I should start a fight with.
The door opens and Steph bursts in.
Sorry I’m late. I have a hell of a hangover,
she says dramatically, and her eyes dart back and forth between the two of us. Sorry, Tess, I forgot to tell you Hardin would be coming by.
She shrugs apologetically.
I would like to think me and Steph could make our living arrangement work, maybe even build some sort of a friendship, but with her choice of friends and late nights, I’m just not sure anymore.
Your boyfriend is rude.
The words tumble out before I can stop them.
Steph looks over at the boy. And then they both burst into laughter. What is it with people laughing at me? It’s getting really annoying.
"Hardin Scott is not my boyfriend!" she spits out, nearly choking. Calming down, she turns and scowls at this Hardin. What did you say to her?
Then, looking back at me: Hardin has a… a unique way of conversing.
Lovely, so basically what she is saying is that Hardin is, simply, at his core, a rude person. The English boy shrugs and changes the channel with the remote in his hand.
There is a party tonight; you should come with us, Tessa,
she says.
So now it’s my turn to laugh.
Parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I have to go to get some things for my desk and walls.
I look at Hardin, who, of course, is acting as if neither of us is in the room with him.
C’mon… it’s just one party! You’re in college now, just one party won’t hurt,
she begs. Wait, how are you getting to the store? I thought you didn’t have a car?
I was going to take the bus. And besides, I can’t go to a party—I don’t even know anyone,
I say, and Hardin laughs again—a subtle acknowledgment that he’ll pay just enough attention to mock me. I was going to read and Skype with Noah.
"You don’t want to take the bus on a Saturday! They’re way too packed. Hardin can drop you on the way to his place… right, Hardin? And you’ll know me at the party. Just come… please?" She presses her hands together in a dramatic plea.
I’ve only known her for a day; should I trust her? My mother’s warning about parties goes through my head. Steph seems quite sweet, from the small interaction that I’ve had with her. But a party?
I don’t know… and, no, I don’t want Hardin to drive me to the store,
I say.
Hardin rolls over across Steph’s bed with an amused expression. Oh no! I was really looking forward to hanging out with you,
he dryly replies, his voice so full of sarcasm that I want to throw a book at his curly head. Come on, Steph, you know this girl isn’t going to show at the party,
he says, laughing; his accent is so thick. The curious side of me, which I admit is quite large, is desperate to ask him where he is from. The competitive side of me wants to prove that smug face of his wrong.
Actually, yeah, I’ll come,
I say with as sweet a smile as I can manage. It sounds like it might be fun.
Hardin shakes his head in disbelief and Steph squeals before wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.
Yay! We’ll have so much fun!
she shrieks. And a big part of me is practically praying that she’ll be right.
chapter five
I’m thankful when Hardin finally leaves so Steph and I can discuss the party. I need more details to ease my nerves, and having him around is no help at all.
Where is the party? Is it within walking distance?
I ask her, trying to sound calm as I align my books neatly on the shelf.
Technically, it’s a frat party, at one of the biggest frat houses here.
Her mouth is wide open as she layers more mascara onto her lashes. It’s off campus, so we won’t be walking but Nate will pick us up.
I’m grateful it won’t be Hardin, even though I know he will be there. Somehow riding with him seems unbearable. Why is he so rude? If anything, he should be grateful that I’m not judging him for the way he has destroyed his body with holes and tattoos. Okay, maybe I am judging him a little, but not to his face. I’m at least polite about our differences. In my home, tattoos and piercings are not a normal thing. I always had to have my hair combed, my eyebrows plucked, and my clothes clean and ironed. It’s just the way it is.
Did you hear me?
Steph says and interrupts my thoughts.
I’m sorry… what?
I hadn’t realized my mind had wandered to the rude boy.
I said let’s get ready—you can help me pick my outfit,
she says. The dresses she picks out are so inappropriate that I keep looking around for a hidden camera and someone to jump out and tell me this is all a joke. I cringe at each one and she laughs, obviously finding my distaste humorous.
The dress—no, piece of scrap material—she chooses is a black fishnet, which lets her red bra show through. The only thing keeping her from showing her entire body is a solid black slip. The dress barely reaches the tops of her thighs and she keeps tugging the material up to reveal more leg, then back down to reveal more cleavage. The heels of her shoes are at least four inches tall. Her flaming red hair is pulled into a wild bun with curls escaping down to her shoulders and her eyes are lined with blue and black liner, somehow even more eyeliner than she had on before.
Did your tattoos hurt?
I ask her as I pull out my favorite maroon dress.
The first one sort of did, but not as bad as you would think. It’s almost like a bee stinging you over and over,
she says with a shrug.
That sounds terrible,
I tell her and she laughs. It occurs to me that she probably finds me as strange as I find her. That we’re both unfamiliar with each other is oddly comforting.
She gapes at my dress. You’re not really wearing that, are you?
My hand slides over the fabric. This is my nicest dress, my favorite dress, and it’s not like I really have all that many. What is wrong with my dress?
I ask, trying to hide how offended I am. The maroon material is soft but sturdy, the same material business suits are made of. The collar goes up to my neck and the sleeves are three-quarter length, hitting just under my elbows.
Nothing… it’s just so… long?
she says.
It’s barely below my knee.
I can’t tell if she can see I’m offended or not, but for some reason I don’t want her to know this about me.
It’s pretty. I just think it’s a little too formal for a party. You could borrow something of mine?
she says in all sincerity. I cringe at the idea of trying to squeeze into one of her tiny dresses.
Thanks, Steph. I’m fine wearing this, though,
I say and plug in my curling iron.
chapter six
Later, when my hair is perfectly curled and lying down my back, I push two bobby pins in, one on each side to keep it out of my face.
Do you want to use some of my makeup?
Steph asks, and I look in the mirror again.
My eyes always look a little too large for my face, but I prefer to wear minimal makeup and usually just put on a little mascara and lip balm.
Maybe a little eyeliner?
I say, still unsure.
With a smile, she hands me three pencils: one purple, one black, and one brown. I roll them around in my fingers, deciding between the black and brown.
The purple will look great with your eyes,
she says, and I smile but shake my head. Your eyes are so unique—want to trade?
she jokes.
But Steph has beautiful green eyes; why would she even joke about trading with me? I take the black pencil and draw the thinnest possible line around both eyes, earning a proud smile from Steph.
Her phone buzzes and she grabs her purse. Nate’s here,
she says. I grab my purse, smooth my dress, and slip on my flat, white Toms, which she eyes but doesn’t comment on.
Nate is waiting out front of the building, heavy rock music blaring out of his car’s rolled-down windows. I can’t help but glance around to see everyone staring. I keep my head down and just as I look up, I see Hardin lean up in the front seat. He must have been bending down. Ugh.
Ladies,
Nate greets us.
Hardin glares at me as I climb in behind Steph and end up getting stuck sitting directly behind him. You do know that we are going to a party, not a church, right, Theresa?
he says, and I glance at the side mirror and find a smirk across his face.
Please don’t call me Theresa. I prefer Tessa,
I warn him. How does he even know that’s my name? Theresa reminds me of my father, and I would rather not hear it.
Sure thing, Theresa.
I lean back against my seat and roll my eyes. I choose not to banter back and forth with him; it’s not worth my time.
I stare out the window, trying to drown out the loud music as we drive. Finally, Nate parks on the side of a busy street lined with large, seemingly identical houses. Painted in black letters is the name of the fraternity, but I can’t make out the words because of the overgrown vines sneaking up the side of the massive house in front of us. Messy strings of toilet paper sprawl up the white house, and the noise coming from inside adds to the stereotypical frat house theme.
It’s so big; how many people will be here?
I gulp. The lawn is full of people holding red cups, some of them dancing, right there on the lawn. I’m way out of my league here.
A full house, hurry up,
Hardin responds and gets out of the car, slamming the car door behind him. From the backseat, I watch as multiple people high-five and shake Nate’s hand, ignoring Hardin. What surprises me is that no one else that I see is covered in tattoos like he, Nate, and Steph are. Maybe I can make some friends here tonight after all.
Coming?
Steph says with a smile and pops open her door and hops out.
I nod, mostly to myself, as I climb out of the car, making sure to smooth my dress again.
chapter seven
Hardin has already disappeared into the house, which is great because maybe I won’t see him again for the rest of the night. Considering the number of people crammed into this place, I probably won’t. I follow Steph and Nate into the crowded living room and am handed a red cup. I turn to decline with a polite No, thank you,
but it’s too late and I don’t have a clue who gave it to me. I put the cup on the counter and continue to walk through the house with them. We stop walking when we reach a group of people crowded on and around a couch. I assume they are friends with Steph, given their appearance. They are all tattooed like her, and sitting in a row on the couch. Unfortunately, Hardin is on the right arm of the couch, but I avoid looking at him as Steph introduces me to the group.
This is Tessa, my roommate. She just got here yesterday so I figured I would show her a good time for her first weekend at WCU,
she explains.
One by one they nod or smile at me. All of them seem so friendly, except Hardin, of course. A very attractive boy with olive-toned skin reaches out his hand and shakes mine. His hands are slightly cold from the drink he was holding, but his smile is warm. The light reflects off his mouth, and I think I spot a piece of metal on his tongue, but he closes his mouth too quickly for me to be sure.
I’m Zed. What’s your major?
he asks me. I notice his eyes travel down my bulky dress and he smiles a little but doesn’t say anything.
I’m an English major,
I say proudly, smiling. Hardin snorts but I ignore him.
Awesome,
he says. I’m into flowers.
Zed laughs and I return one.
Flowers? What does that even mean?
Want a drink?
he asks before I can inquire further about flowers.
Oh, no. I don’t drink,
I tell him and he tries to hide his smile.
Leave it to Steph to bring Little Miss Priss to a party,
a tiny girl with pink hair says under her breath.
I pretend not to hear her so I can avoid any kind of confrontation. Miss Priss? I’m in no way prissy,
but I have worked and studied hard to get where I am, and since my father left us my mother has worked her entire life to make sure I have a good future.
I’m going to get some air,
I say and turn to walk away. I need to avoid party drama at all costs. I don’t need to make any enemies when I don’t have any friends to begin with.
Do you want me to come with you?
Steph calls after me.
I shake my head and make my way to the door. I knew I shouldn’t have come. I should be in my pajamas curled up with a novel right now. I could be Skyping with Noah, whom I miss terribly. Even sleeping would be better than sitting outside this dreadful party with a bunch of drunken strangers. I decide to text Noah. I walk to the edge of the yard, since it seems to be the least crowded space.
I miss you. College isn’t very fun so far. I hit send and sit on the stone wall waiting for his reply. A group of drunk girls walk by giggling and stumbling over their own feet.
He responds quickly: Why not? I miss you too, Tessa. I wish I was there with you and I smile at his words.
Shit, sorry!
a male voice says and a second later I feel cold liquid soak the front of my dress. The guy stumbles and pulls himself up to lean against the low wall. My bad, really,
he mumbles and sits down.
This party could not get any worse. First that girl called me prissy, and now my dress is soaked with God knows what type of alcohol—and it really smells. Sighing, I pick up my phone and walk inside to find a bathroom. I push my way through the crowded hall and try to open every door on the way, none of them budging. I try not to think about what people are doing in the rooms.
I make my way upstairs and continue my hunt for a bathroom. Finally, one of the doors does open. Unfortunately, it’s not a bathroom. It’s a bedroom, and, even more unfortunate for me, it’s one in which Hardin is lying across the bed while the pink-haired girl straddles his lap, her mouth covering his.
chapter eight
The girl turns around and looks at me as I try to move my feet, but they just won’t budge. Can I help you?
she snarks.
Hardin sits up with her still on his torso. His face is flat—not amused or embarrassed at all. He must do this type of thing all the time. He must be used to being caught in frat houses practically having sex with strange girls.
Oh… no. Sorry, I… I’m looking for a bathroom, someone spilled a drink on me,
I quickly explain. This is so uncomfortable. The girl presses her mouth against Hardin’s neck and I look away. These two seem to be a good match. Both tattooed, and both rude.
Okay? So go find a bathroom.
She rolls her eyes and I nod, leaving the room. After the door closes I lean my back against it. So far college isn’t fun at all. I just can’t wrap my head around how a party like this could be considered fun. Instead of trying to find a bathroom, I decide to find the kitchen and clean myself off there. The last thing I want to do is open another door and find drunken hormonal college students on top of one another. Again.
The kitchen isn’t too hard to find, but it’s crowded since most of the alcohol supply is in ice buckets on the counter and stacks of pizza boxes fill the countertops. I have to reach around a brunette puking in the sink to grab a paper towel and wet it. As I wipe it over my dress, small white flakes of the cheap paper towel cover the wet spot, making it worse. Frustrated, I groan and lean against the counter.
Having fun?
Nate asks as he approaches me. I’m relieved to see a familiar face. He smiles sweetly and takes a sip of his drink.
Not exactly… how long do these parties usually last?
All night… and half the day tomorrow.
He laughs and my mouth drops. When would Steph want to leave? Hopefully soon.
Wait.
I begin to panic. Who’s going to drive us back to the dorm?
I ask him, well aware of his bloodshot eyes.
I don’t know… you can drive my car if you want,
he says.
That’s really nice, but I can’t drive your car. If I wreck or get pulled over with underage drinkers in the car I would get in so much trouble.
I can just imagine my mother’s face as she bails me out of jail.
No, no, it’s not a far drive—you should just take my car. You haven’t even been drinking. If not, you’ll have to stay here, or I could ask around to see if someone—
No, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out,
I manage before the music gets turned way up and most everything is drowned out by bass and lyrics that are practically screamed.
My decision to come to this party is proving to be worse and worse as the night goes on.
chapter nine
Finally, after pointing around and yelling Steph!
like ten times at Nate, the music drops into a quieter song and he nods and starts to laugh. His hand moves up into the air and he points into the next room. He is really a sweet guy—why does he hang out with Hardin?
As I turn to where he indicated, all I hear is my own gasp as I spot her. She, along with two other girls, are dancing on a table in the living room. A drunk guy climbs up and joins them, his hands gripping her hips. I expect her to swat his hands off but she just smiles and pushes her bottom against him. Okay.
They’re just dancing, Tessa,
Nate says and gives a quick chuckle at my uneasy expression.
But they aren’t just dancing; they’re groping and grinding against each other.
Yeah… I know.
I shrug, even though it isn’t as casual to me. I’ve never danced that way, not even with Noah, and we have been dating two years. Noah! I reach into my purse and check my messages from him.
You there Tess?
Hello? You okay?
Tessa? Should I call your mom? I’m getting worried.
I dial him as fast as my fingers will allow, praying that he hasn’t called my mother yet. He doesn’t pick up, but I text him assuring him that I’m okay and there is no need for him to call my mother. She will lose it if she thinks something happened to me on my first weekend of college.
Heyyyy… Tessa!
Steph slurs and leans her head on my shoulder. You having fun yet, roomie?
She giggles, obviously heavily intoxicated. I think… I need… the room is starting to spend, Tess… I mean spin,
she says, laughing, and her body lurches forward.
She is going to get sick,
I tell Nate. He nods and lifts her into his arms, draping her body over his shoulder.
Follow me,
he instructs and heads upstairs. He opens a door halfway down the hall, finding a bathroom quickly, of course. Right as he places her on the floor by the toilet, she begins to vomit. I look away but grab her red hair and gently hold it back away from her face.
Finally, after more vomit than I can handle seeing, she stops and Nate hands me a towel. Let’s get her to the room across the hall and lay her on the bed. She is going to need to sleep it off,
he says. I nod, but what I’m really thinking is that I can’t leave her here alone, passed out. You can stay in there, too,
he says, seeming to read my mind.
Together we get her up off the floor and help her walk across the hall and into a dark bedroom. We gently lay a groaning Steph onto the bed and Nate quickly takes off, telling me he’ll check in on us later. I sit down on the bed next to Steph and make sure her head is comfortable.
Sober, with a drunk girl beside me and a party raging all around, I feel like I’ve hit a new low. I turn on a lamp and look around the room, my eyes immediately going to the bookshelves that cover one of the walls. Since this perks my mood up, I go over to it and scan through the titles. Whoever owns this collection is impressive; there are many classics, a whole range of different types of books, including all of my favorites. Spying Wuthering Heights, I pull it off the shelf. It’s in bad shape, the binding giving away how many times it’s been opened.
I’m so lost in Emily Brontë’s words that I don’t even notice the change in light when the door opens, or the presence of a third person in the space.
Why the hell are you in my room?
an angry voice booms from behind me.
I know that accent by now.
Hardin.
I asked you what the hell you’re doing in my room,
he repeats, just as harshly as the first time. I turn to see his long legs pulling him toward me and he snatches the book from my hand and tosses it back onto the shelf.
My mind is whirling. I thought the party couldn’t get any worse, but here I am, caught in Hardin’s personal place. He rudely clears his throat and waves his hand in front of my face.
Nate told me to bring Steph in here…
My voice is soft, barely audible. He takes a step closer and lets out a deep breath. I gesture to his bed, causing his eyes to follow my hand. She drank too much and Nate said—
I heard you the first time.
He runs his hand through his messy hair, clearly upset. Why does he care so much if we are in his room? Wait…
You are a part of this fraternity?
I ask him. It’s impossible to hide the shock in my voice. Hardin is far from what I imagined a frat boy to be like.
Yeah, so?
he answers and takes yet another step closer. The space between us is less than two feet, and when I try to inch away from him my back hits the bookcase. Does that surprise you, Theresa?
Stop calling me Theresa.
He has me cornered.
That’s your name, isn’t it?
He smirks, his mood slightly lightening.
I sigh and turn away from him, basically facing into the wall of books. I have no idea where I’m going, but I need to get away from Hardin before I slap him. Or cry. It has been a long day, so I will most likely cry before slapping him. And what a sight that would be.
I turn and push past him.
She can’t stay in here,
he says as I pass. When I turn around he has the small ring in his lip between his teeth. What made him decide to put a hole in his lip and eyebrow? That had to be painful… though the one piece does accent just how full and round his lips are.
Why not? I thought you guys were friends?
We are,
he says, but no one stays in my room.
His arms cross over his chest, and for the first time since I met him, I can make out the shape of one of his tattoos. It’s a flower, printed in the middle of his covered forearm. Hardin, with a flower tattoo? The black and gray design resembles a rose from this distance, but there is something surrounding the flower that takes the beauty from it, adding darkness to the delicate form.
Feeling brave and annoyed, I let out a laugh. Oh… I see. So only girls who make out with you can come into your room?
As the words leave my mouth his smile grows.
That wasn’t my room. But if you’re trying to say you want to make out with me, sorry, you’re not my type,
he says. I’m not sure why but his words hurt my feelings. Hardin is far from my type, but I would never actually say that to him.
You are… you are…
I can’t find the words to express my annoyance toward him. The music through the wall is like an itching sensation. I’m embarrassed, annoyed, and exhausted from the party. Arguing with him isn’t worth it. "Well… then you take her to another room, and I’ll find a way back to the dorms," I say and head for the door.
As I go through it and slam it shut behind me, even through the noise of the party, I hear Hardin’s mocking "Good night, Theresa."
chapter ten
I can’t help the tears that fall down my cheeks as I reach the top of the stairs. I hate college so far—and my classes haven’t even started. Why couldn’t I just get a roommate who was more like me? I should be asleep now, preparing for Monday. I don’t belong at parties like this, and I certainly don’t belong hanging out with these type of people. I do like Steph, but I just don’t have it in me to deal with a scene like this and people like Hardin. He’s such a mystery to me; why must he always be such a jerk? But then the next thing I think of is that wall of books of his—why does he have all of them? There is no way a rude, disrespectful, tattooed jerk like Hardin could possibly enjoy those amazing works. The only thing I can picture him reading is the back of a beer bottle.
Dabbing at my wet cheeks, I realize I have no idea where this house is located, or how to get back to the dorms. The more I think about my decisions tonight, the more frustrated and stressed I become.
I really should have thought this through; this is exactly why I plan everything, so things like this don’t happen. The house is still packed and the music is too loud. Nate is nowhere to be found; neither is Zed. Maybe I should just find a random bedroom upstairs and sleep on the floor? There are at least fifteen rooms up there, and maybe I will get lucky and find an empty one? Despite my efforts to conceal my emotions, I can’t, and I don’t want to go down and have everyone see me like this. I turn back, find the bathroom I was in with Steph, and sit on the floor with my head between my knees.
I call Noah again, and this time he answers on the second ring.
Tess? It’s late, are you okay?
he says, his voice groggy.
"Yes. No. I went to a stupid party with my roommate and now I am stuck at a