Page 73 of Palm South University: Season 3
BY THE TIME I MAKEit to Ralph’s and see how completely dead it is inside, the fire I had in my belly when I stormed out of the KKB house is all but ash. Suddenly it doesn’t seem like a brilliant idea to push Jarrett’s buttons, and seeing as how there are only three other small groups of people in the bar other than myself, there aren’t exactly a lot of options for pawns in my game.
There’s a small group of girls, all giggling and playing pool, having their version of a Friendsgiving, I assume. I recognize Landon, the guy Erin had a fling with last year, in the corner with some of his buddies. He’s off limits since he was with Erin, but even more so, the guy gives me the creeps. Other than that, I don’t see anyone standing out.
Maybe it’s because none of the guys, no matter how hot they are, hold a candle to Jarrett.
Sighing, I order a vodka tonic and drop my phone onto the bar top in front of me, dropping my head into my hands with my eyes still on it, willing it to ring.
Jarrett hasn’t talked to me since our fight on Monday.
He has a right to be pissed, and I’m fully prepared to apologize, but I also won’t deny that I’m a little disappointedhehasn’t apologized yet, either. And now, a little after seven on Thanksgiving, he’s still yet to call me. Or answer my call.
The bartender is a slight little thing that I assume to be my age, probably staying around campus just because someone has to serve the poor suckers like me who stumble in here on a holiday weekend. She pops my drink down in front of me and then kicks back against the register at the other end of the bar, texting away on her phone with a giant grin. She looks like she’s texting someone she cares about, someone who cares about her. I know that goofy grin.
I used to wear it.
Twirling the ice in my glass with the plastic stirrer, I keep my eyes on my phone, pushing the home button every now and then just to make sure I didn’t somehow miss a text. I’m so focused on my pathetic pity party that I don’t even notice the guy who sits down next to me until he speaks.
“You know, I’ve tried that method,” he says, breaking my daze. I glance over at him, eyes widening at the bright, boy-next-door smile I find there.
“Excuse me?”
He nods toward my phone on the bar. “The wholestare at it until it does somethingmethod. I’ve tried it. Usually leads to sucking down booze like water and drunk texting someone I know I shouldn’t.”
For the first time tonight, a tiny smile breaks on my face, and I don’t even hide it as I take the time to check this guy out. The first thing I notice is his smile — I have never been so attracted to someone’s teeth before. They’re bright white and perfectly straight, like a dentist commercial, and one little dimple pops on his left cheek when that smile reaches its full wattage. All his features are dark — the jet-black mop of hair on his head, the deep brown of his eyes, the glorious tan skin stretched out over the amazing muscles on his arms, the perfect-length stubble on his jaw. This guy is the definition of tall, dark, and handsome — and suddenly, my game face is back on.
“Maybe I want to send drunk texts.”
He laughs. “No, you don’t. No one wakes up the morning after sending five unanswered texts in a row happy about it.”
This time it’s him who lets his eyes wander, and though it feels nice to be devoured by his eyes, it doesn’t change the fact that he isn’t Jarrett. Every guy just seems so…blah, compared to Jarrett. He’s ruined me.
“I’m Jess,” I say when his eyes finally reach mine again.
“Greg. You’re in Kappa Kappa Beta, right?” He motions for the bartender, holding up his empty beer bottle before turning to face me again.
“I am. Are you Greek?”
“Omega Chi Beta.”
“Oh, shit, the probation boys,” I tease. “I have a really good friend in your fraternity — Bear. Although, he’s kind of pissing me off currently.”
Greg rolls his eyes. “He’s been pissing pretty much everyone off since the beginning of the semester. I think he’s just taking the probation thing hard. He’s helped us a lot, though. There were still a lot of brothers being stupid after the meeting with nationals — me included — but he reminded us what’s at stake. Still,” he adds, tipping his new beer toward the bartender before taking a long pull. “His attitude is a lot to handle.”
“I think he and Skyler got into some kind of fight, but neither one of them is saying why.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Those two are pretty tight, even if they aren’t getting along right now.” His lips find his bottle again, eyes still on me. “Anyway, enough about them. Tell me about you. Any particular reason you’re in Ralph’s on Thanksgiving instead of home with family?”
“Ugh,” I stick the plastic stirrer in my drink like a dagger, fishing out an ice cube before popping it in my mouth. “That’s a long story. You should probably answer that question first.”
“My parents took a cruise for the holiday,” he answers easily. “So, I stayed here to party with a few brothers. But if I had to guess by the way you’re watching your phone, your reason involves a guy, doesn’t it?”
I chew my ice cube. “Maybe.”
“Boyfriend?”
I pause mid-crunch, swirling the cold remains of the cube with my tongue as I debate how to answer. I could easily lie, play the game I was set on playing when I walked in the door, but suddenly it all feels stupid. So, I just answer with a nod.
“Ah, figures,” he says, a defeated smile on his face as he peels the label off his beer bottle. “Doesn’t make sense for a girl who looks like you to be single.”