My Sweetest Escape. Chelsea M. Cameron

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keep that in mind. Thanks.”

      For the last time, I spun around and walked back to the lounge, his laughter echoing behind me.

      The lounge was still empty when I got back, and all my stuff was still there, so I settled back in to finish another movie.

      Next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder.

      “Hey, Jos. Time to go,” Renee said, her voice softer than I’d heard it in a long time. It was the voice she probably used with patients. I’d fallen asleep on the couch. I couldn’t even remember it. My computer was dark; it, too, had gone to sleep.

      Renee sat down next to me, pulling my feet into her lap and letting out a heavy sigh.

      “So what did you do?”

      “Nothing,” I said, tilting my neck back and forth to work out some kinks. “What time is it?”

      “Ten. You ready to go home?” Home. Was that what her place was now?

      “Yeah.” I swung my feet over and sat up.

      “I see you raided the vending machine,” she said, picking up the empty candy bags. “You freak and your candy combinations.” She crumpled them up and found a trash can as I packed up all my stuff.

      “Did you get to do anything interesting?” she said as we walked back down to her car.

      Other than the interaction with the Vending Machine Hero? I was about to tell her about that and changed my mind.

      “Nope,” I said around a yawn. Maybe I’d sleep tonight. Usually I got to a point where I was so exhausted that my body just shut itself down. This felt like one of those times.

      “You know, you should call Mom.” I didn’t want to. I knew it would just end up in another yelling match, and I was too tired to deal with that right now.

      “I will.” Renee was about to say something, but changed her mind.

      “Okay.”

      Chapter 5

      Everyone was deep in study mode when we got back to the house. Paul had taken up almost the entire dining room table with something that, at a glance, looked far too complicated to even begin to understand.

      Taylor and Hunter had the living room, and both had their heads buried deep in textbooks. Darah was at a little desk that was tucked next to the stairs, and I suspected Mase was also around somewhere. Nine months ago, I would have been right there with them. Now I thought they just looked like a bunch of people wasting their time.

      “Little Ne,” Mase said, coming down the stairs, a textbook in hand, big surprise. “How’s life?”

      “Peachy,” I said, putting my bag down on the bench by the front door. The sound of the door closing seemed to rouse everyone else, and they descended on us. There were just so many of them. It was overwhelming. Plus the happy. That was equally overwhelming. Paul came over and gave Renee a kiss, and she went to sit with him at the dining table to catch up.

      “I’m going down to my...room,” I said, catching myself before I could say cave. It wasn’t really a cave. Or, if it was, it was the nicest cave ever. With Wi-Fi and everything.

      “Are you sure? This house is yours now. You don’t have to stay down there,” Hunter said. “We’re not that scary, are we?” He turned to Taylor, whose eyes were pretty glazed over.

      “What? I’m still thinking about suffragettes.” He gave her a look and shook his head.

      “Seriously, Jos, this is your home.” It wasn’t really, but it was nice of him to say that.

      “I’m just really tired. I’m going to bed.” I said good-night to everyone, including Renee.

      “Not planning any nocturnal activities?” she said.

      “Nope,” I said, popping my lips on the p.

      “Well, just in case, I’m watching you,” she said, making a gesture with two fingers to her eyes and then pointing them at me. “Whenever you think I’m not there, that’ll be when I show up.”

      “Jesus, enough with the third degree. I got it. Message received. Mission accomplished.” I stomped down the stairs and banged the door shut.

      Ahh, peace and quiet.

      * * *

      The rest of the week went pretty much like that first full day, with the exception of Renee letting me go to the admissions office by myself to sign up for all my classes and get everything transferred over from UNH. Since my first year grades were so high, even with the shitty grades I’d gotten last semester, they were still willing to let me in.

      When it came to classes, I just picked whatever. I’d decided to stick with my major, political science with a prelaw minor, since it seemed easier than picking a new one. I’d thought transferring would be a pain in the ass, but it was relatively easy, and before the end of the week I was officially a UMaine Black Bear, with an official decal for my car and a copy of the school song, the “Stein Song.” I was sure I wasn’t the first person who found it ironic that a college had a drinking song as their official school song. What kind of message did that send?

      I’d only really missed the first week of classes, so I was going to be able to catch up no problem, according to all the professors who had emailed me on my new UMaine account to send me the syllabi from their classes.

      Renee wasn’t around to take me to get my textbooks, because of a meeting of her nursing club, so the task fell to Hunter and Taylor, who drove me to campus on Saturday.

      They fought about what music to play the whole way there.

      “I think that Jos should pick,” Taylor finally said when we were practically driving onto campus.

      “I don’t care.”

      “The rule is that the driver gets to pick,” Hunter said, skipping a song that Taylor had picked out.

      “Uh, no, the rule is that I get to pick.”

      “Since when?”

      “Since you put this swell ring on my finger,” she said, holding up the amazing ring that Hunter had gotten her when they’d first started dating. It was fucking huge, and nearly blinding when you looked at it. Yet another show of his wealth. It was just wrong that some people had so much money and others had less than nothing. Not that Renee and I were poor, but we definitely got our fair share of financial aid, what with our parents having so many kids between them.

      “That ring does not give you totalitarian radio powers,” Hunter said, taking her hand and kissing it.

      “Thank God,” I said under my breath as he found a parking spot by the performing arts center, which wasn’t too far from the bookstore. They continued to argue as we walked into the Union and then went downstairs to the bookstore. I was about to tell them that I could just find my books myself when Hunter grabbed my list from my hand and started grabbing books.

      “Hold

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