Free Fall Into Forever by Beth Hyland Page A

asks.
    “Yeah. Stealing. Selling weed. Got arrested and went to juvie.”
    My curiosity gets the better of me. “And you know this how?”
    Marla repositions the pencil sticking out of her bun. “My friend’s cousin knows him.”
    “I’m surprised he got into PSU if he’s got a record,” Cassidy says skeptically.
    “Maybe his parents are rich and got him off,” Dani says.
    Sara is smiling. She’s liking that explanation. Wealthy parents, hot guy, potential trust fund.
    “I doubt it,” Marla says. “I don’t care that he’s on the radio now and is really popular. He’s bad news, Sara, and you should stay away from him.”
    I don’t know Marla well enough to know if she’s the kind of person who embellishes stories or not. “Maybe he pulled his shit together.”
    “Whatevs, Ivy. You go ahead and think that, but the guy’s trouble.” Marla takes a bite of her quesadilla. “Plain and simple.”
    I don’t hear the rest of what she’s saying as I stare into my half-eaten salad with unfocused eyes.
    Chase’s brother used that same phrase when I ran into him at the Stop and Shop after the accident. It was the beginning of my downward slide.
    Cornering me in the back next to the beer refrigerator and the popcorn machine, Aaron leaned in close. “He loved you, Ivy. Plain and simple. The two of you were meant to be together. It’s too bad you were so fucking stupid you couldn’t see what a great guy he was.”
    I’m suddenly not hungry anymore.

chapter six

    It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
~ William Shakespeare

    Ivy

    The Fine Arts building is located on the far end of campus. It takes me a little longer to get there than I thought it would, because when I came through the Quad, I ran into a few people I knew from a class last quarter. They were sitting on the edge of the fountain and talking about what they’d done over winter break. I hung out for a few minutes and misjudged how long it would take to get here, so I had to hoof it and now I’m a little sweaty. I’m glad I’m scrubbing and not wearing one of Cassidy’s new tops.
    Through a cluster of leafless trees behind the building, cars whiz by on Monroe Avenue, the road bordering campus. On the other side is Greek Row, with its stately old mansions and covered porches. I catch a glimpse of the church steeple on the corner of Monroe and Sprague and cringe. It’s the same one I saw from the roof of the White House.
    “Returning to the scene of the crime?”
    I jump at the sound of the deep voice to my left. I turn slowly, as though I’m in a dream. At first all I see is chrome and leather. I blink. And then…
    There, not more than ten feet away from me, Jon Priestly is straddling a motorcycle.
    My jaw practically drops to the ground as I watch him swing a leg over the seat. He’s wearing dark glasses, a worn leather bomber jacket, faded jeans with a rip in the right knee, and a pair of scuffed black boots.
    I have a major moment of amnesia, having no idea what he just asked or what I’m doing here. I quickly clamp my teeth together to keep from saying something that will make him think I’m a total dork. About the only thing I do remember is my name, and honestly, that’s a little iffy right now.
    How did I not notice him when I was walking over here? Am I completely blind? How unaware of my surroundings am I that I didn’t notice…this? Had I seen him, I totally would’ve gone around to a different entrance or at least been prepared for what I was going to say.
    He pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, icy blue eyes squinting at the sudden light. My stomach tightens. I don’t know about you, but I secretly love when a guy removes his sunglasses to talk to me instead of leaving them on. Makes me feel like he truly wants to see me and have me see him.
    His cool gaze slides over my body, giving me the sensation that he’s inches away rather than feet. My heart does a rollercoaster drop, thudding