All Chapters of My Obsession: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

*Caroline* While blotting my dress with napkins that Jess pushed into my hands, I take in our group and see Connor Dimpleshitz, Margo’s man. He’s chatting with some of his nerd friends, and I say that because out of the four guys, three wear identical Regional Chess Champions shirts. Digging up resolve, I flash a big pretend smile. Fresh guys—I can get behind that. They check me out with a bit of fascinated wariness, and I almost claw and purr at them, but my heart isn’t invested. Pre Noah Stark Caroline would have. She was outgoing and always ready to party, but she hasn’t reared up yet. She might have teased them for their matching shirts or enjoyed a long conversation about the intellectual benefits of chess on the brain. She might have hooked up with one of them if they agreed to her rules: no kissing on the lips and no sleeping over. The truth is, sex for me is a carefully thought-out plan with the right guy selected. The moment I arrived at Ohio state I set those guidelines in

*Noah* Walking into Cadillac’s like the conquering hero Julius Caesar after he defeated the Gauls, or maybe a gladiator entering the Colosseum after a victorious showing in the games.Did gladiators go out for a beer after the games? No doubt they did. They probably had hot girls with them too.Applause breaks out and I flash a big smile, taking in the adulation. The cheers of congratulations continue as we make our way around the room, and a warm feeling grows in my chest. Attention from fans, a football in my hands—it’s all I’ve ever needed.I started playing rec league when I was twelve—late for the superstar I am—because my aunt and uncle needed a babysitter for me and the field was just down the road from our house. Convenient for them to get me out of their hair, and a good way for me to channel my restless energy.“Noah! Great game!” shouts a guy I remember from class last semester.I wave.“Dude, this place is packed,” Dillon says. He’s got that glazed-over, I’m-going-to-part

*Caroline* “Wake up and get me a cigarette, bitch,” cries Vampire Bill, the African grey parrot that’s in his cage on my nightstand. I ease up and glare at him from my bed. Ryker stayed over with Penelope, my roomie and best friend, last night, so I pulled the parrot from her room into mine. Nothing kills the lovey-dovey mood like a parrot telling them to “Get your bony ass down the road and get a job.” He was rescued by Penelope from a bunch of cigarette-smoking, belligerent, low-class morons. Our neighbors from across the street, they left him on the side of the road on their move-out day, and Penelope ran out to save him. She says he’s hers, and I guess he is, but I like to think of us as co-parents. When I stretch and reach out to pet him, he fluffs his feathers and rubs the back of my hand with his head. I study his misshapen right wing, the one that keeps him from flying, and hand him a cracker from the box on the table. Regardless of the things he says, he’s an affectionat

*Noah* It’s past five on a Friday, and I’m leaving the gym when my phone rings. Aunt Lorraine. I grapple with my bag to hit the answer button before it goes to voice mail. I called last night but she didn’t pick up. Uncle Jack never does, so I didn’t even try him. “Hey, Aunt Lorraine, what’s up? Guess you saw I called?” “Yeah. How are things going?” Her voice is distracted, and I hear the girls in the background. I picture them in their house with the huge cotton field behind it. Over fifty years old, it’s a ranch-style brick her parents left her along with a small farm. She lost them at nineteen, married Jack at twenty, and started having babies at twenty-one. Then I came along. “About this dinner thing…” Her voice trails off as one of the girls starts whining, and I can tell by the rustling that she’s covering the phone and telling someone to be quiet—Suzie, the youngest, I bet. Last time I was there was Christmas Day, and she’d grown nearly a foot

*Caroline*First day of class, I arrive at Dr. Cartwright’s lecture hall early to get the best seat, which is center and front.I’m working on setting up my workspace when I hear loud laughter from outside. The doors burst open, and in walk Dillon and Noah, two peacocks entering a new courtyard. You can almost hear “We Are The Champions” blaring in the background as their theme music. Puffed up and preening, they walk down the center stairs of the lecture hall toward the front row. Everyone in the room goes silent, and I gape as some of the students sitting around me on the front row get up to make room for them.Fuck that shit. I’m not moving.I’ve been in classes with football guys, and they always do this. They should just walk up and piss on the chalkboard to mark their territory already.Noah walks forward, getting perilously close to where I am, and looks for a seat.“Hey, Noah. You can sit her