Page 14

NYLAH

As soon as the lights go down and the movie begins, I lean my head against Carson’s shoulder. I probably shouldn’t. I heard that little intake of breath, noticed the way his body went rigid, like me touching him was causing some kind of allergic reaction.

But he kept on breathing, and after the third “As you wish,” he started to relax.

I munch on my popcorn, and as the “movie I’ve seen so many times I can practically quote the entire thing” plays, I drink in Carson’s luscious smell, try not to giggle as he wrestles red gummy bears out of the bag, and then try not to melt when he keeps handing me orange and green ones.

He is sweet.

He probably doesn’t think he is, but I can tell. The guy has a heart under all that angst. He’s like the Grinch, and for some reason, I find that adorable.

The theater erupts with laughter as the priest steps forward and says, “Mawage.”

I sit up and check Carson’s face. His lips don’t even curl at the corners while the rest of us laugh at this ridiculous priest.

Wow. He really is stoic.

I wonder how much effort that’s taking.

I bet he’s only doing it because he can sense me watching him.

A muscle in his jaw works, and I turn back to the screen. I really shouldn’t be making him uncomfortable.

But it’s so fun!

And I want to see him break. Not in a mean way, just in that way you crack a Smucker’s Magic Shell after it’s set on your ice cream.

I want to see him split apart… crack a genuine smile.

I want to be the girl who brings that out in him.

Why? I’m not sure.

But it’s like I’ve made it my mission without even realizing.

Glancing back, my lips twitch when I notice him mouthing the line, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya…”

He knows the lines!

Adorable.

Biting my lips together, I resist the urge to tease him and end up having to lean against his shoulder again, just so I can’t see his face.

He tenses like he did last time, but it only takes a few minutes for him to relax, and then he’s even shuffling a little lower in his seat so my head isn’t at such a weird angle.

See. He is a sweetheart.

He just doesn’t want the world to know it.

I see you, Carson McAvoy. I see you.

But I can’t exactly tell him that.

I may not have much experience with guys like him, but I get this instinctive sense that it wouldn’t take much to scare him off for good.

I’ve asked around a little on campus. Not in a really obvious way—hopefully—but I’ve heard comments like “badass” and “reckless.” Then I was talking to a girl I sit next to in psychology the other day, and she was telling me how Carson’s like a campus bad boy, a total man slut, and to steer clear.

I then had to pretend that I wasn’t interested in him.

“I just heard his name and was just trying to figure out who he is,” I lied.

She snickered. “He’s athletic with this raggedy blond hair and a face that could be on the cover of GQ .

But the guy’s an ass, and I’m surprised the Football Frat guys put up with him.

” She shook her head. “There must be a slither of something half decent in there somewhere, because Zander and Wily will defend him to the end, and none of the Football Frat dudes have kicked him out yet, even though his ass probably deserves to hit the curb. I definitely don’t see what they do. ”

I wanted to ask her more, find out specific examples of what he’d done that was so bad, but then class began and I never got my chance.

On the way out, she gave me a vague “He gets drunk and does idiot stuff,” but that’s all she said, and I couldn’t go interrogating her and giving myself away.

All I know is that I think I see what his roommates do, and playing my cards right is essential if I want to hang out with him again.

And why do you want to hang with him again? Seriously, Ny… is it even worth the effort?

The bag rustles in his lap, and then an orange gummy bear appears before me. Taking it from his fingers with a little grin, I easily conclude that yes… it’s totally worth it.