Weak Side

Weak Side Bexley U SJ Sylvis Weak Side Copyright © 2023 S.J. Sylvis All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This work is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Published: S.J. Sylvis 2023 [email protected] Cover Design: Ashes and Vellichor Photographer: Ren Saliba Editing: Jenn Lockwood Editing Proofing: On Pointe Digital Services Lil- This one is for you. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Epilogue Afterword Also by SJ Sylvis Stay up to date About the Author Acknowledgments 1 Claire Home. The scent of pine, fresh air, and crisp autumn leaves swirled around me as I shut my eyes and breathed in the first real breath I’d been able to take in the last several months. Technically, Bexley University wasn’t really considered home because it was a temporary placement. It was a four-year college, and I was in my third year. I’d only lived here eight months out of the year for the last three, but still, it felt more like a home to me than the small, run-down apartment my mother and I had shared since I was old enough to remember how to leap from one end of the hall to the other without touching the rug. I took in another deep breath, relishing in the calmness I felt staring at the athletic dorms as I rested against my old Toyota parked behind me in the student lot. It was packed with cardboard boxes full of dorm-room knick-knacks and some dance gear. I was likely the only junior that was actually looking forward to being back at college with its chaos of midnight study seshes, not enough sleep, frat parties—not that I went to many of those, if Taytum had anything to say about it—and dorm rooms that were only big enough to do a split and nothing else, but not many students at Bexley U grew up the way I did. It was an elite college, and I was never the type of girl who belonged, hence why I was here on a partial scholarship. As if on cue, my phone pinged, and a message came in, sending my entire spine into a steel lock. I sighed, shutting the door to my Toyota with my foot. Mom: Don’t forget the electric is due tomorrow. I mumbled under my breath. “Oh yes, I could see how I could forget that your electric bill is due tomorrow. Thank you for the reminder to pay the electric bill that I will not be using for the next eight months.” “Talkin’ to yourself again?” My shoulder got nudged lightly by Taytum as she blew a bubble with her minty gum and popped it in my face. She didn’t let me answer as she dove in the backseat of my car to pull out a box of my things. “I wish you would just live with me in the sorority house. This whole living-in-the-athletic-dorms thing is lame-o.” “You know I can’t join a sorority, Tay. I tried that my freshman year, and it did not go over well.” Memories of being reprimanded by the other sisters in the sorority as if I were back home with my mom slid into my brain, and I shivered on the spot. Even though I had made it through the rushing process, I quickly learned that I wasn’t made out to be in a sorority. Between keeping my grades up so I didn’t lose my scholarship, dance rehearsals, and auditions, plus working in my free time at The Bex—the local restaurant and bar on campus—so I could afford the other half of my tuition plus help my mom with bills, I just didn’t have the time. So, living in the athletic dorms was my best bet, and I was fine with it. It didn’t make any difference to me. “Yeah, but you’re like a top dog now. You can do what you want, and all the littles will do whatever you need them to do. You have seniority now.” “I would never make an underclassman—” “Sister,” she corrected, pushing her adapted sorority language onto me. I laughed as we climbed the cobblestone steps to my new dormitory. “Whatever. I wouldn’t make someone else do something for me. You know that I like to do things myself.” “Oh, yes. I know. Little Miss Independent. I’m surprised you’re even letting me carry one of your boxes for you.” “What are you even doing here anyway?” I asked, putting my box down by my feet to pull my phone out again. I sorted through my emails, looking for my room number that had unsurprisingly worn off from the key I was given. Bexley University was one of the oldest schools in New England, and the primeval architecture wasn’t the only thing lacking in the 21st century department. Room 213. “I came by to snag a schedule for when the auditorium is available for practices. There’s a ridiculous number of auditions this semester and one that I know you’ll be interested in. If you get it, your tuition will be paid next year.” I already knew of it, and she was right. I was interested. “I grabbed you and Jaclyn a schedule.” I