Fractured (BBW Erotic Romance) by Evelyn Rosado

College is about beer and sex. And studying - if
you’re not too hung over to squeeze it in. This is what my roommate
Candace said to me before we walked into the ladies bathroom at
Elias Hall. It was the first day of the fall semester and that
sentence was all I wanted to fill my brain up with. And not the you won’t even make it to Thanksgiving which was what my
Aunt Alice said to me before I left. My mind replayed her response
every day before I stepped foot on the hallowed ivy decorated
campus of State College.
    I stood in front of the mirror above the
cold, white porcelain sink staring at myself – the start of a new
beginning looming before me. The water splashed against my face
didn’t help in settling me down. Why am I so nervous? It’s only
the beginning of the rest of my life.
    The women’s bathroom was stark white; my skin
appeared pale under the lights. It smelled sterile - like latex or
a doctor’s office. It was late summer, but chill bumps dotted my
arms. Frigid droplets slowly dripped off my face and rippled into
the pool of the half empty sink. I looked deep into my blue eyes,
hoping the girl next to me applying rouge to her cheeks couldn’t
see the brokenness I held within. The accident, the loss, the
tears, the scars – I wished they swirled clockwise down the drain
along with the water.
    “ C’mon, Selena we’re going
to be late,” Candace said. She gave a light tap on my backside
making me jump out of my trance as she exited the door into the
Monday morning fracas called a hallway. It was jam packed with
students; as any first day of the semester would be. I wondered how
many of them would still be there come Homecoming.
    This is a new start, Selena. A new
start.
    “ I’m right behind you,” I
said. My voice echoed off the sterile eggshell-white walls. I
walked out into the traffic jam of people ready to take on the
world.
    Candace held a seat for me in the front row
with her bookbag. Her face was buried into her tablet. I hated
sitting in the front row. But I had no choice; the classroom was
mostly filled up.
    “ I hate sitting up front.
Everyone has their eyes on you,” I said to Candace. The professor
hadn’t arrived yet and most of the students were either slurping
down large cups of sugary caffeine or busy tinkering their fingers
on their phones texting about God knows what. I sat on the edge of
the seat, my spine straight as a number two pencil. Five years I’ve
waited for this moment. My notebook was wide open to the first
page. The blue ink on the first line wrote – Marketing
101
    “ Selena, aint nobody
thinking about you. The front row is prime real estate. You get to
see all the hot guys walk through the door.” That’s all Candace
talked about – guys, guys, guys. What are you planning to major
in Candace? Boys. What’s your first class on Monday Candace? Intro
to Boys 102. What’s your minor, Candace? Boys.
    “ Whatever. I just hope the
professor isn’t a dick.” Candace’s brown eyes jutted from her
tablet to every guy that walked in the door. She judged them like a
Mr. Universe Contest. Ehh. Meh. Damn! Pass. Whew. Ehh.
Hottie! “Are boys all you think about?”
    “ Why yes. Yes, they are,”
she said matter of factly. She talked about boys like a sommelier
spoke about vintage Malbecs. Candace and I hit it off the moment we
met at orientation. Our love of eyeliner and fingernail polish
forged a friendship which would outlast the test of time. But I
wouldn’t be able to put up living with her if the cramped dorm room
we shared was going to turn into a rotisserie of sex-crazed college
boys, hungry for a taste of what was between her legs.
    My pen tapped the paper repeatedly. The boy
talk was annoying; I wanted class to start. Candace looked up and
fumbled her phone to the ground; her case and battery falling out.
Her bleached, blonde hair flew up. “Fuck me running! He’s hot,”
Candace exclaimed. My neck jerked towards the door. My pen banged
against the