The Deal

by Elle Kennedy

  “Oh, shut it. I’ve just been busy with tutoring and rehearsal. And whatever Allie said about Garrett, it’s not true.” I unzip my winter coat and drape it over the empty chair beside Meg’s. “I’m helping him pass Ethics. That’s all.”

  Meg’s boyfriend Jeremy wiggles his eyebrows at me over the rim of his coffee mug. “You know this makes you the enemy now, right?”

  “Aw, come on,” I protest. “That’s just mean.”

  “Says the traitor,” teases Meg. “How dare you fraternize with a meathead? How. Dare. You.”

  I can see from their playful expressions that it’s all in good fun. Or at least it is before Garrett texts me.

  My phone meows, and I grin the second I pull it out of my purse.

  Garrett: U totally should’ve come to the post-game party tonite. Some chick just dumped a pitcher of beer over Dean’s head.

  I snort out loud and shoot back a quick text, because I have to know more.

  Me: OMG. Why? (tho I’m sure he deserved it).

  Him: Guess he forgot to tell her they weren’t exclusive.

  Me: Of course. Men.

  Him: Men…finish that sentence…Men are awesome? Thanks, baby. I accept this award on behalf of all of us.

  Me: The award for biggest douchebag? Yeah, you’re the perfect spokesman.

  Him: Awwww. I’m hurt. I’m not a DB :(

  The notion that I might have hurt his feelings causes guilt to trickle through me.

  Me: You’re right. You’re not. I’m sorry. :(

  Him: Ha. You’re the biggest softie on the planet. I wasn’t hurt at all.

  Me: Good, because the apology was for show.

  “Hannah Wells, please report to the principal’s office!”

  My head jerks up, and I discover all four of my friends grinning at me again.

  Dex, who’d voiced the booming command, addresses the group. “Oh, look, she’s paying attention to us.”

  “Sorry,” I say guiltily. “I will officially put my phone away for the duration of this get-together.”

  “Hey, you’ll never guess who we saw at Ferro’s last night,” Meg says, referring to the Italian restaurant in town.

  “Here we go,” her boyfriend sighs. “Can’t you go five seconds without gossiping, babe?”

  “Nope.” She flashes him a jovial smile before turning to me. “Cass and Mary Jane,” she announces. “They were on a date.”

  “Did you know they were together?” Stella demands.

  “I know he asked her out,” I admit. “But I was hoping she’d be smart enough to say no.”

  But I’m not surprised to hear that MJ had done the opposite. And now I’m certainly not looking forward to Monday’s rehearsal, because if Cass and MJ are a “couple” now? I’ll never win an argument about the duet ever again.

  “Is that ass-hat still causing trouble at rehearsals?” Dex asks with a frown.

  “Yup. It’s like he’s made it his mission in life to piss me off. But we don’t rehearse on the weekends, so I have a reprieve from his bullshit until Monday. How’s your piece going?”

  Dex’s expression turns serious. “It’s great, actually. Jon’s been really good about listening to my suggestions. He’s not crazy possessive over the song, you know? But he also has no problem saying no to my ideas, which I also appreciate.”

  Well, at least one of us lucked out in the songwriter department. MJ seems perfectly content to let Cass light a match to her song and set it on fire.

  “Okay, I totally want to hear more, but I need to grab a coffee first.” I hop out of my seat and pick up my purse. “Does anyone want anything while I’m up there?”

  After everyone shakes their heads, I head to the counter and stand at the end of the long line. The coffee house is surprisingly packed for a Sunday night, and I’m startled when several people in line nod or say hello to me. I don’t know a single one, but I smile awkwardly and nod back, then pretend to text on my phone because I don’t want to get drawn into a conversation with a stranger. Maybe I met them at Beau’s party? All the introductions Garrett made are a total blur to me, though. The only people whose names and faces I remember are Beau and Justin and a few of the other football players.

  There’s a soft tap on my shoulder, and I turn around to find myself peering up at Justin’s vivid blue eyes.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Oh, hi,” I squeak out.

  “Hey.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his football jacket. “How’s it going?”

  I try to sound casual despite my racing heart. “Good. You?”

  “I’m great. But…I am curious about something.” He slants his head in the most adorable way, and when a lock of dark hair falls onto his forehead, I fight the urge to brush it away. “What exactly do you have against parties?” he asks with a grin.

  I blink. “What?”

  “I’ve run into you at two parties now, and both times you left early.” He pauses. “Actually, both times you left with Graham.”

  Discomfort coils around my spine. “Uh, yeah. Well, he’s got a car. I can’t pass up a free ride.”

  The second I say it, I realize how dirty that sounded, but unlike Garrett, who would have pounced on the ride remark in a heartbeat, Justin doesn’t even crack a smile. If anything, he looks disturbed.

  He’s quiet for a moment before lowering his voice. “You know what? I’m just gonna come out and ask—are you and Graham friends, or is it something more?”

  My phone rings the second he voices the question, proving that iPhones have the absolute worst timing. As Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back” blares from the speaker, everyone in line looks over with a grin. Why is “Sexy Back” blaring out of my phone? Well, because a very obnoxious hockey player programmed it in as his ringtone, and I’ve been too lazy to change it.

  Justin’s gaze drops to my phone, and since the screen is facing upward, he doesn’t miss the name flashing across it in huge block letters.

  GARRETT GRAHAM.

  “I guess that answers my question,” he says wryly.

  I quickly press the ignore button. “No. Garrett and I aren’t together. And just so you don’t think I’m a total weirdo, I didn’t assign him that ringtone. He did.”

  Justin still looks dubious. “So you’re not dating him?”

  Since the whole point of going to Beau’s party with Garrett was to make me seem desirable, I stick to the lie. “We’re casually seeing each other, but we’re not exclusive or anything. We see other people, too.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  The line shifts closer to the counter, and we shuffle right along with it.

  “Does that mean you’re allowed to have dinner with me sometime?” Justin asks with a faint smile.

  A pang of alarm lights my belly. I can’t quite make sense of it, so I decide to ignore it. “I’m allowed to do whatever I want. Like I said, Garrett and I aren’t together. We just hang out sometimes.”

  God, that sounds sleazy. I know what guys think when they hear that. I might as well have said, I’m just sleeping with him, no strings attached.

  However, Justin doesn’t seem put off by that. His hands move from his pockets to the belt loops of his cargo pants in a slightly awkward pose. “Look. Hannah. I think you’re pretty cool.” He shrugs. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

  My heart skips a beat. “Really?”

  “Totally. And I’m fine if you’re dating other people at the same time, but…” His expression becomes intense. “If you and I go out a couple times and we have the kind of connection I think we’re going to have, then I’m gonna want to invoke an exclusive clause pretty damn soon.”

  I can’t help but smile. “I didn’t realize football players were interested in monogamy,” I tease.

  He chuckles. “My teammates sure as hell aren’t, but I’m not like them. If I’m into a girl, I want her to be with me and only me.” I don’t know what to say to that, but fortunately he goes on before I can respond. “But it
’s way too early to talk about stuff like that, huh? How about we start with dinner?”

  Oh my God. He’s asking me out. Not for coffee, not to study, but an actual date.

  I should be doing internal cartwheels or something, and yet I can’t shake the apprehension churning in my stomach, the muffled little alarm bells that are telling me to say…no. But that’s crazy. I’ve been obsessing over this guy since school started. I want to go out with him.

  I exhale a slow breath. “Sure, that sounds great. When?”

  “Well, I’m kinda swamped this week. I have two papers to write, and then I’ll be in Buffalo with the team this weekend. How about a week from now? Next Sunday, maybe?”

  My phone busts out its rendition of “Sexy Back.”

  A frown touches Justin’s lips, but it fades when I hastily press ignore again.

  “Next Sunday is great,” I say firmly.

  “Awesome.”

  We reach the counter, and I order a large mocha latte, but before I can reach for my wallet, Justin comes up beside me, places his own order, and proceeds to pay for both of us. “My treat.”

  His husky voice sends a shiver racing through me.

  “Thank you.”

  As we move to the other end of the counter to wait for our drinks, he does that cute head-tilting thing again. “Are you sticking around here, or do you want me to walk you back to your dorm? Wait—you’re in the dorms, right? Or do you live off-campus?”

  “I’m in Bristol House.”

  “Hey, we’re next door neighbors. I’m in Hartford.”

  The barista slides our orders on the counter. Justin reaches for his cup, then grins at me. “Shall we walk back together, milady?”

  Okay. Well, that was…cheesy. And he didn’t thank the girl at the counter when she handed him his coffee. I don’t know why that bothers me, but it does.

  Still, I force a smile, even as I give the rueful shake of my head. “I would, but I’m here with friends.”

  His eyes twinkle. “You’re just a social butterfly, aren’t you?”

  I laugh awkwardly. “Not really. I haven’t seen my friends in a while. I’ve been too busy to go out.”

  “Not too busy to see Graham,” he points out. There’s a teasing note in his voice, but I also hear something sharper. Jealousy? Or maybe it’s resentment. But then he smiles again and playfully takes my phone from my hand. “I’m putting my number in here. Text me yours when you get a chance, and we’ll figure out the details for next week.”

  My heart speeds up, but this time it’s from nervous excitement. I can’t believe we’re actually going on a date.

  Justin finishes entering his number into my contact list just as the phone rings in his hand.

  Surprise! It’s Garrett again.

  “Maybe you should just answer it,” Justin mutters.

  He might be right. Three calls in two minutes? That could definitely mean an emergency.

  Or it could mean that Garrett is just trying to annoy me as usual.

  “I’ll see you Sunday.” Justin hands the phone back, smiles again (but it looks mega awkward this time), and then walks off.

  I move away from the counter and answer the call before it jumps over to voice mail. “Hey, what’s up?” I say irritably.

  “Finally!” Garrett’s aggravated voice slides into my ear. “Why do you even own a phone if you don’t bother picking it up when someone calls? You better have a good reason for ignoring me, Wellsy.”

  “Maybe I was in the shower,” I grumble. “Or peeing. Or doing yoga. Or streaking naked through the quad.”

  “Were you doing any of those things?” he challenges.

  “No, but I could have been. It’s not like I spend my days sitting around and waiting for you to call, jackass.”

  He ignores the barb. “What’s with all the voices? Where are you?”

  “Coffee Hut. I’m catching up with some friends.” I leave out the part where Justin asked me out on a date. For some reason, I don’t think Garrett will approve, and I’m not in the mood to argue with him. “So what’s so important you had to call me five trillion times?”

  “Dean’s birthday is tomorrow and the team is going to Malone’s. We’ll probably end up going back to our place afterward. You in?”

  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.”

  “Yeah, I have ID. And by the way, why is Dean having his birthday party on a Monday? How late do you guys plan on staying out?”

  “Probably not too late. I’ll make sure you get home whenever you’re ready to go. And it’s on a Monday because Maxwell stole Dean’s thunder by having his party on Saturday. That, and we don’t have ice time on Tuesdays. The team’s in the weight room, and when you’re hung over, it’s a lot easier to lift weights than skate.”