Page 36

I leave the art building on the far side of campus and take the long trek back to the commons area to grab a pre-made salad for lunch. My mind is still on the portfolio, and I don’t want to waste too much time before getting back to work. Campus is bustling with loud students eating lunch, hanging out, and hammering out last minute assignments before the next class. I dip into the small grab and go market and open the refrigerator section to pick a pre-made Caesar salad. When I turn around to wait in line to check out, my body freezes, unable to move from the spot where my feet are firmly planted into the ground.

Standing a few feet away, with his backpack slung over one shoulder, is the boy I was hoping, but also not hoping, to see casually on campus. He’s not alone. An entourage of football players surround him, but that’s not what triggers me. Trying her best to keep his attention is a gorgeous girl with long, black hair. A slit of her stomach is visible in a cream colored crop top with jeans that hug her curves. She’s laughing and placing her hand on his shoulder, confident enough in herself to shoot her shot.

Not again.

He’s a player who entertains any girl who gives him the time of day.

You’re not special.

How could I be so stupid?

My stomach twists into knots, and I’m suddenly not hungry anymore. Before I can duck behind a shelf to save myself fromfurther mortification, Hartley’s eyes tear away from the rest of the players to the flirtatious girl before he lifts her hand off his shoulder and takes a step away. My breath evens out at the sight of him shrugging her off, clearly not interested in her company or touch. I turn to walk to the checkout counter, but before I can, Hartley’s gaze travels in my direction. His stare stops on me, and the easiest, dimple popping smile spreads across his face. She’s persistent and keeps placing her hand on him. He shrugs the girl’s hand off his shoulder once again, giving her an annoyed look before he leaves the group and walks towards me.

“Goldie.” He reaches my frozen body, my hands still holding that stupid salad, and places both hands on my hips. He drops a gentle kiss on my cheek before taking off his hat and raking his hands through his messy hair. “I’ve missed you.”

“Just buying this.” I lift the salad up and try to squeeze around him to the checkout counter, but he steps over to block my escape. “I’m really busy.”

“When can we hang out again?” His hand reaches for the dangling strap of my backpack and replaces it on his empty shoulder. “We should meet up for your project soon.”

“Umm. . .” I bite the inside of my cheek to muster up an excuse to not see him. “I might go in a different direction for the project. My professor doesn’t think it’s working.”

“What?” Confusion fills his face as he takes another step forward, breaking the bubble I strategically placed between us. “There’s no way he didn’t like what you drew.”

“You’re spiraling, Goldie.” His hand reaches up to rub my cheek. It travels to my furrowed brows as he rubs to relax the muscles that have tightened. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think something’s wrong?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The girl that was handsy with Hartley just a moment ago appears by his side, but his eyes never tear away from mine.

“Want to grab lunch?” Her chest touches his body, as she’s uncomfortably close to him. “My treat.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m having lunch with my girl.”

The girl’s eyes widen, zeroing in on me. Scoffing, she rolls her eyes and turns away, embarrassed by his blatant rejection. “Whatever.”

“You could have had lunch with her.” I point at the girl, walking away to grab another football player’s attention. “I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“Ruin my plans? Wait. . .” He looks behind him to the group he left and back at me. “Were you jealous?”

I point to myself and laugh. “Me? Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you think I’m him, and I’m not.” He laces his fingers through my free hand. “Let’s buy your salad and get out of here.”

We wait in the short line to purchase my lunch and begin the short walk back to the dorms. I haven’t said a word since my embarrassing overreaction in the commons, and I don’t intend to speak first.

“Contrary to popular belief,” he catches me off guard by scooping me up into his arms and carrying me the last few blocks to my dorm room, “I’m a one woman kind of guy these days.” He winks and holds me tight to his chest. “That woman is you.”

25

Liza

Group message: The Girlies

Me: I need girl time. Are either of you up for a walk around campus?

Me: I’m not above bribing you with a milkshake date after.