Bad Things

19. No Choices

She is the days I can't get over
She is the nights that I call home endlessly
For you I'll always wait
Caught in the waves of hesitation
Lost in the sea of my own doubt endlessly
For you I'll always wait.

- Green River Ordinance

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There were three things Shawn was profoundly aware of as he sat in the waiting area of the dean for Northern University:

One: Whomever had sat in this chair before him had either pissed themselves or had been sweating profusely (he prayed to God it was the latter, since he could feel the moisture from the seat through his pants).

Two: The two blondes across the room were desperately trying to get his attention by thrusting out their chests and biting their lower lips, while eyeing him shamelessly—or else they had some sort of impediment that made their backs arch unnaturally and had extremely bucked teeth.

And three: He was never wearing another damn tie in his entire life. In fact, when he got home, he was burning every last one.

Fighting off the urge to rip the stupid thing from his neck, Shawn busied himself by thumbing through a magazine from the stack piled on the table next to him. He had no idea what he was pretending to read, nor did he care—though he did hope it wasn't some women's shit that would make him look like a total douche. He just hoped it kept the blonde vultures from circling him. Unfortunately, moments later when the overwhelming scent of vanilla surrounded him, he knew his efforts had not been rewarded. The air in front of him shifted, and he raised his gaze reluctantly.

Before him stood one of the girls from across the room. She wore a sly smile, one side of her bottom lip caught between her teeth. At a distance she'd looked mildly attractive but up close Shawn could see the over-abundance of makeup caked on her face, and the generous amount of hair product in her hair. She kind of reminded him of Keira—the way she dressed in very tight clothes, trying too hard to be sexy by biting her lip, while curling a stiffened lock of blonde hair around her finger—which for him was not a good thing. His chest was still slightly discolored from the assault Keira had wreaked on him weeks earlier.

"Hi," the girl said, her grin growing larger.

Shawn sat back in his chair and raised a brow in response. "Hey."

The girl cleared her throat. "I'm Monica and that's Shelby," she tilted her head toward her friend, "and, well, we were just wondering something."

Shawn glanced at the other girl sitting across the room. She looked a lot like her friend, though now that he was paying attention, he noticed her hair looked dyed instead of natural. He glanced back at the girl in front of him.

"Are you Shawn Mendes?" she asked.

He was a little surprised that they knew who he was. "Yeah. Do I know you?"

"We graduated from Rockshire last year. You beat us in the final game."