Page 62 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

Check out the first two chapters of Anywhere , the next book in The Mayberry University Series:

Hugs haven’t been a thing between us, but I’m risking it. It’s been two weeks and I’m dying. Casually confident with his hands in his pockets, waiting next to my favorite spot in my dorm’s parking lot.

Pasadena may be home on paper, but that penthouse with Mom is the exact opposite of campus with him.

There, the yelling is over, but the oppressive quiet is now permanent.

She said exactly one positive thing to me over break—that the Chanel sweater she bought me for Christmas would look pretty on me.

I won’t be reliving that over Spring Break.

I’d sooner subject myself to Kit’s perfect little home-sweet-home.

His mini-smile comes into focus as I approach.

It’s not the same on FaceTime. I can almost smell his lumberjack scent from here.

I squeal into the spot, throw my Jeep in park, and nearly rip off the door.

Jumping down, I … screech to a halt. Some girl stopped to chat with him. Red hair, delicate curves, short skirt.

Already out of the Jeep, I 180 to the back to feign a fascination with my suitcase. Do the zippers work? Mm-hm. I can, in fact, access my belongings. I would trade every last one if she’d kindly remove her hand from his arm.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asks. Major eye contact, inching closer. Innocent eyes and a naughty mouth.

She could teach a Masterclass on flirting with nonverbals. I have plenty to learn but no stomach for this lesson. I’m sure it would be great fun to watch her on a screen with my suitemates and a bag of tortilla chips. And—oh, yeah—a different mark.

“Do you think you could help me with my laptop?” she asks. “I know how smart you are. And handy.”

Oh, verbals too. Cool, cool. He would have gone out with her anyway, but she phrased it like a favor so now his plans tonight are set in stone.

“And helpful,” she continues.

Suitcase, yep. Backpack. Some jackets I left in here a million years ago. Paper bowls, water bottles, more crumbs than make any sense … I should really clean this out. Probably won’t.

“I’ll text you later, ’kay?” he says.

When I risk a glance around the passenger seat to check on the happy couple through the windshield, she notices—yikes!—and sends me all the side-eye. I hop to pull my backpack out, like I’m way too busy to be spying, but I yank too hard and fall on my butt.

I let out a sigh as I wipe off my jeans. Wow. And the Klutz Award goes to … me. I’d like to thank my parents, my severe inferiority to the girl in the skirt, and my Texas-sized crush on the guy in plaid.

Shrug into one of the jackets, slide it off. It might be January, but my burning face is acting as a nice space heater at the moment.

I smoothe my hair and straighten my shirt.

In any other situation I would prance over and make friends with Pretty Redhead.

I bet she’s fun when she’ s not hitting on this dude completely out of the blue on the very first day back to campus.

I wouldn’t mind borrowing her shoes either—shoes that are standing obnoxiously close to the guy who was waiting for me.

But I won’t be going near her right now.

I can only imagine us standing side by side for comparison, as if he has a rose in hand.

Which will he choose? the narrator asks.

Oof, the quickest choice in the history of reality romance shows. No rose for you, Blondie.

I’ll stay back here with the luggage, thanks. I’m not a masochist.

Is Leo back yet? I haven’t heard from him, so I’m sure he isn’t.

No Open Dorms tonight, but we could do a field trip.

Bowling? I’ll text some friends, see who’s in.

Then suite movie night. Unless they’d be down to go to the lake again.

I push the zipper around my suitcase, calculating timing.

Kit will be stocked up on sleep after break. The stars out there …

A yelp escapes when my side is tickled, and I hit my head on Austin’s hand. He held his arm along the edge of the Jeep in preparation for my Tigger jump.

“Whatcha doin’ back here?” That playful voice.

“Nothing! Something! Hi.”

Redhead has vanished.

“Hey, Soph. C’mon.” He tilts his head toward Saga. “Let’s get you some dinner.” He pauses with a hand on the tailgate. “Safe to say you’re gonna leave your suitcase in here for a couple weeks?”

I grin. “You know … in the event of a zombie apocalypse, I’ll be really glad to have a few changes of clothes ready to go.”

“Remind me to throw some things in there too. I don’t want to miss you fighting off a zombie.”

“Don’t blame you. Last semester I took?—”

“Karate,” he says with me, chuckling. “Oh, I remember. But I don’t think you’ll need it. Give you ten minutes and you’ll have them committing to a vegetarian lifestyle and joining you for a nice night of laser tag.” He throws my backpack over his shoulder and closes the door.

Ooh, laser tag. “Whatever, I’m super intimidating. Those zombies will turn vegetarian because of the terror I inflict.”

When I reach to tickle his side, and his giant hand gently grabs my wrist. “Nice try.” Those blue-gray eyes smile at me as my blissful wrist calls a “bye, I’m going with him!”

I reach for the bear hug I’ve been craving, but he sidesteps with a practiced spin.

Right. Barely-there side-hug it is.

“I missed you,” he murmurs.

Yeah.

It’s like this.