I laugh. “You’re asking me if I want to go to a bar and watch a bunch of hockey players get loaded? Why would you ever think that’s something I’d enjoy?”
“You have to come,” he says firmly. “My midterm grade comes back tomorrow, remember? Which means I’ll either be celebrating or commiserating. Either way, I want you there.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please?”
Wow. Garrett knows the word please? Shocking.
“All right,” I relent, because for some stupid reason, I can’t say no to this guy. “I’ll come.”
“Hells yeah. Pick you up at eight?”
“Sure.”
I hang up, wondering how in the span of five minutes, I’ve made not one, but two dates. One with the guy I like, and the other with the guy I kissed.
I wisely keep both those details to myself as I rejoin my friends.
19
Hannah
It’s becoming glaringly obvious that Garrett was right. He is an image booster. As I walk down the cobblestone path toward the Philosophy building, at least fifteen people call out to me. Hi, how are ya, looking good. I’m greeted by so many smiles, waves and hellos that I feel like I’ve just stepped foot on a whole other planet. A planet called Hannah, because everyone seems to know me. But I have no clue who they are, though I must have met them at Beau’s party.
Discomfort twists my stomach, along with a wave of self-consciousness that has me picking up my pace. Unsettled by all the attention, I practically sprint to class and slide into my seat next to Nell. Garrett and Justin haven’t arrived yet, which is a bit of a relief. I’m not sure I feel like talking to either of them right now.
“I heard you went out with Garrett Graham this weekend,” is the first thing Nell says to me.
Sweet baby Jesus. Can I not go a single second without being reminded of the guy?
“Uh, yeah,” I say vaguely.
“That’s it? Yeah? Come on, I want all the dirty details.”
“There aren’t any.” I shrug. “We just hang out sometimes.” Apparently, this is now my go-to response.
“What about your other crush?” Nell nods meaningfully toward the opposite aisle.
I follow her gaze and realize that Justin has just shown up. He settles in his seat and pulls a Macbook out of its case, and as if he senses my gaze on him, he lifts his head and smiles.
I smile back, and then Tolbert saunters in, and I break eye contact as I focus on the podium.
Garrett’s late, which is unlike him. I know he was out with his teammates last night and didn’t have practice this morning, but there’s no way he would’ve slept in until four o’clock. I discreetly pull out my phone to text him, but his message reaches me first.
Him: Dealing with an emergency. I’ll show up for the second half. Take notes for me until I get there?
Me: Everything OK??
Him: Yeah. Cleaning up Logan’s mess. Long story. Tell u later.
I take copious notes during the lecture, more for Garrett’s sake than my own, since I’ve already read ahead and have the latest theory memorized. As Tolbert drones on, my mind drifts. I think about my impending dinner date with Justin, and that uneasy sensation returns, bringing a queasy feeling to my stomach.
Why am I so nervous about it? It’s just dinner. And that’s all it’s going to be. Other girls might put out on the first date, but I’m certainly not one of them.
But Justin is a football player. The girls he dates probably get naked before the menus even arrive. What if he expects that from me?
What if he…
No, I firmly tell myself. I refuse to believe he’s the kind of guy who would pressure someone to sleep with him.
At the forty-five minute mark, Tolbert calls for a break, and all the smokers in the class bolt out as if they’ve been trapped in a mine for two weeks. I head outside too, not to smoke, but to look for Garrett, who still hasn’t made an appearance.
Justin trails after me into the corridor. “I’m grabbing a coffee. Want one?”
“No, thanks.”
His lips curve as he meets my eyes. “Are we still on for Sunday?”
“Yep.”
He gives a pleased nod. “Good.”
I can’t help but admire his butt as he walks off. His cargo pants aren’t super tight, but they hug his ass nicely. His body really is amazing. I just wish I had a better sense of his personality. I still find it difficult to read him, and that bugs me.
That’s why you’re having dinner with the guy—to get to know him.
Right. I force myself to remember that as I shift my attention back to the front doors, right as Garrett strides through them. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and his hockey jacket is zipped all the way up to the collar.
His black Timberlands thud on the shiny floor as he heads toward me. “Hey, what’d I miss?” he asks.
“Not much. Tolbert’s talking about Rousseau.”
Garrett glances at the lecture hall entrance. “Is she in there?”
I nod.
“Okay, good. I’m gonna see if she can give me my midterm back now instead of at the end of class. I’m still dealing with that emergency, so I can’t stay.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened or should I start guessing?”
He grins. “Logan lost his fake ID. He needs it in case we get carded tonight, so I’m driving him to Boston to meet this guy who does ’em on the spot.” He pauses. “You’ve got ID, right? The bouncer at Malone’s knows me and the guys, so we shouldn’t have a problem getting in, but you might.”