The Sophomore

by Monica Murphy

  Jackson’s mouth on mine. His tongue sliding against mine. I want to swallow his groans and feel him press his body against me. I want all of that.

  Even if he ignores me the next day, or treats me like I’m the same ol’ Ellie for the rest of my days, right now, that’s what I want.

  I want it.

  I want him.

  He lifts his head and is so still, so quiet, I have no choice but to open my eyes to see what he’s doing.

  Watching me, his hand still under my shirt. “Has anyone ever made you come before, Ellie?”

  I slowly shake my head, my gaze never straying from his. My body starts to tremble at his words, at the promise in them. It’s in his eyes too. I know he could make me come. He just does it for me. I am completely caught up in him. No other guy has this kind of effect on me.

  No one else.

  Just him.

  “Then you’ve been with some real shitty guys.” He removes his hand from beneath my shirt and shifts away from me, plastering his back to the driver’s side door. As if he needs the space.

  From me.

  “Yeah,” I say, staring right at him, anger slipping into my veins, making my blood boil. “I have.”

  I’m referring to him. He’s the shittiest one of them all.

  “Want me to walk you to your door?” he asks.

  I gape at him. What the hell was that just now? Feeling me up and then pulling away like he never touched me in the first place? I don’t understand him. He toys with me because he knows he can get away with it.

  “I can manage,” I say tightly, reaching for the handle to open the door. I climb out of the car as fast as I can, slamming the door with extra force because damn, that felt good.

  Jackson immediately rolls down the passenger side window. “Don’t forget your stuff in the back seat.”

  When I left my car at the shop, I took out everything that was important to me. As if I might not see that car ever again. Which is silly and dramatic, but I couldn’t help having that thought. What if my car is unrepairable? I’ll be screwed.

  Like, totally screwed.

  I jerk open the back door and grab my backpack and the rest of my stuff. “Thanks again,” I bite out.

  I turn away from his car and march toward my apartment building, trying my best to fight my jittery nerves from having Jackson’s mouth and hands all over me.

  God, he’s the worst.

  He can decimate me with a few whispers, his mouth on my neck and his hand on my boob. He’s deadly.

  Awful.

  I hate him.

  Okay. Fine.

  Not really.

  I work at the Doghouse Grill. It’s one of the most popular restaurants close to campus, if not the entire town. Customers spill into the place all day, all night. The parking lot is small and cramped, so it’s a constant fight out there for parking. The line to order is always out the door, and we never seem to have enough seating for everyone.

  We’re slammed from the time we open until we close, and this means time passes really, really quickly. I got the job thanks to my experience working the fountain at one of the lakeside resorts in my hometown for three summers in a row. Most of the high schoolers work at the various resorts and restaurants that surround the lake. At the height of summer, we’d get slammed there too.

  I’m used to a fast pace, and I’m super-efficient. I got hired here easily, and I love it. I make decent tips too. The only thing I don’t like? The hours. We stay open pretty late, especially when management doesn’t like to turn customers away. Only when the grill is completely closed will we finally stop serving food. Though the bar is always open way longer than it should be.

  Most nights we close at nine, but sometimes I don’t get out of there until around eleven. I don’t like being out alone that late. Yes, I’m a big girl, but the crime rate is up in this part of town. I can’t help but be a little nervous.

  I’m a small-town girl, what can I say?

  I never talked to Jackson about picking me up after work. Hayden dropped me off when my shift started—and then came in and ordered her and Gracie some food with my employee discount.

  That’s what friends are for, helping each other out.

  It’s a Tuesday, and we’re still busy. A stream of students mixed with regular folks come in and out the doors all night. By the time I’m taking my break, sitting at a table near the back, close to the kitchen, my feet are aching, and it feels good to be off of them for a bit. I check my phone to see I have a text from none other than Jackson.

  The jackass tease who felt me up and then essentially kicked me out of his car.

  Jackson: What time should I come pick you up?

  Me: I already have a ride.

  Jackson: From who?

  Me: Why do you always think I’m lying?

  Jackson: Maybe because you are.

  Irritation fills me and I hit the button so I can call him. He answers on the first ring.

  “Who’s picking you up?”

  This is how he greets me.

  “Hayden,” I tell him, which is the damn truth. “She took me to work too.”

  “Tell her I’m picking you up instead.”

  God, he’s so demanding. And annoying.

  “You don’t have to. You’ve done enough,” I tell him.

  “I’ll text her and let her know,” he says, cutting me off. “What time are you off?”

  “Around ten or so,” I say. “But really, Jackson. I’m fine. I don’t need you to pick me up.”

  “See you then.” He ends the call before I can say anything else.

  Annoyed, I immediately call Hayden and tell her what he said.

  “Hmm. Why is Jackson acting like this?” Hayden sounds suspicious.

  I didn’t tell her about my interaction with Jackson last night in his car. She only knows about my car breaking down and him coming to my rescue. The other stuff…I’m not ready to share yet.

  “I don’t know. I’m sure I’m reading too much into it,” I say, deciding to be truthful.

  “Yeah, but it’s weird, ya know? Is it one of those, I don’t want you, but no one else can have you either situations? If that’s the case, he’s a straight-up douche,” she says.

  I’m quiet for a moment. “We already know he’s a straight-up douche.”

  “True.” She sighs. “I think he has a hero complex when it comes to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He wants to be your hero. Run to your rescue. Fix your problems so you’ll be indebted to him forever,” she explains.

  That actually makes a lot of sense. “Maybe so.”

  “It might give him a sense of power over you. I don’t know. I should’ve been a psychology major,” she says. “That kind of thing fascinates me.”

  It fascinates me too, but only when it comes to Jackson. Most of the time I don’t understand his motives. And he doesn’t explain himself at all, which makes it worse.

  “Should I still come and get you?” she asks when I haven’t said anything.

  “No.” I sigh. “He sounded pretty determined about being my ride.”

  “If he makes you mad, text me and I’ll come get you, okay? It’s not a big deal,” she says.

  “I hate to ask you to do that when it’s so late.” I chew on my lower lip, glancing around the still very busy restaurant. It’s almost nine. Don’t these people have somewhere else to be?

  “I don’t mind. I’m not that far and I’d probably make Tony go with me. He’s at my apartment right now,” she says.

  “Oh, I don’t want to interrupt you guys. I’m fine. Really.”

  “Text me if you want. I mean it.”

  We end the call and I glance toward the front doors, just in time to see Carson walk through them with one of his friends.

  Well, well. If that doesn’t make things even more interesting. I never told him I worked here, so he didn’t do this on purpose. This is again one of those random meet ups that we keep having.
>
  Makes me wonder if he’s the guy I’m supposed to be with. Fate playing a part, maybe?

  I sit up straighter, willing Carson to see me. Remembering what Jackson said to me last night. How I need to show some non-friendly vibes. More like some flirty, I want you vibes.

  Now I’m not exactly sure if I want Carson, but I definitely can be flirty.

  Carson is too busy looking at the menu board on the wall above the order counter, so I rise to my feet, making my way over to them. As I draw closer, I see he’s with one of the guys he brought with him to Hayden and Gracie’s party. He’s the one who notices me first. He jabs his elbow in Carson’s ribs, who glances in my direction.

  And breaks into a giant smile.

  “Ellie. We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Carson says.

  I laugh. “I know, right? How are you?”

  “Hungry. Glad this place is still open.” He scrutinizes me carefully. “Do you work here?”

  I nod. “I do. I’ve only been here a month.”

  I’m suddenly okay with us still being open and customers still walking in.

  “Nice. We’ve never been here, but heard it’s good,” Carson says, glancing over at his friend who nods in agreement.

  “It’s really good. And I’m not saying that just because I work here.” I smile. “Get the tri-tip sandwich.”

  “Is that your favorite?”

  “I love their salads too. And their fries.”

  “Thanks for the recs.”

  The girl working behind the counter sends them an irritated look. “Are you finally ready to order?”

  “Uh…yeah,” Carson says as he steps closer to tell her what he wants.

  I wave at them and take off, a little giddy. I need to get back to work. I’ve been assigned bussing tables tonight. Helping customers out if they need anything. We rotate on the schedule. A lot of the time I’m at the register taking orders, but not tonight.

  Tonight, I have more freedom. This is my least favorite task, but I do get to move around a lot, which is good, especially now that Carson is here.

  Once they place their orders, they get their drinks and find a table. I walk over to them with a fresh, damp rag and clean the table quickly.

  “How are you?” Carson asks. “How’s your car?”

  I saw him in class earlier today, and he didn’t ask me about it. Though I did arrive to class with little time to spare once the professor launched into his lecture, so I suppose that was part of the issue.

  “It’s in the shop. It needs a new alternator,” I answer with a frown.

  “Ah, that’s too bad. They can be kind of expensive,” he says.

  “Yeah, they can. And my car is old, so they had to special order the part. It’s this whole process I really don’t need in my life right now,” I admit.

  “That’s tough.” Carson’s expression is sympathetic. His friend appears bored out of his skull. “You remember Jonah, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I wave at him and he smiles back. “Hi Jonah.”

  “Hey.” He tips his head toward me before returning his attention to his phone.

  “I should get back to work,” I tell them. “It was nice seeing you.”

  “Yeah, you too, Ellie,” Carson says.

  I head for the patio outside and grab one of the tubs that’s kept behind a counter out there that we use to clear tables. I stack up the empty baskets and glasses inside before I wipe down the tables, breaking out in a sweat as I work. It’s still really hot outside, despite the hour and the fans whirling overhead. September in Fresno is still pretty miserable, temperature-wise.

  In fact, it’s downright awful.

  I grab the tub full of dirty dishes and push my way through the double doors, back into the restaurant. I stop short when I see who’s sitting at the bar, chatting up the bartender as if he’s an old friend.

  Freaking Jackson.

  His gaze finds mine immediately. Of course he does. We’re aware of each other, even when we’re pissed at each other. And I am. Pissed.

  At Jackson.

  I send him a small smile as I march through the restaurant toward the kitchen with my chin held high, trying my best to look dignified but probably failing miserably.

  Once I’m in the kitchen, I drop the tub off by the dishwasher and wipe a hand across my brow, pushing aside the flyaway hairs that always come out when I’m working. Why is Jackson here so early? And why is he sitting at the bar? He’s not even twenty. He can’t drink.

  It sucks that he shows up at the restaurant when Carson is here too, but Jackson wasn’t aware of his presence. So I guess I can’t be mad at him.

  You know what? Yes, I can be mad at him. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to pick me up in the first place. That was Hayden’s job tonight. And she wouldn’t screw up anything I potentially could have with Carson. More like she would encourage it.

  If Jackson knows that Carson is out there? He will do his damnedest to sabotage it. Sabotage me and Carson. Which is a total jerk move, but guess what?

  Jackson can be a jerk. Especially when it comes to me.

  Frowning, I push my way through the kitchen’s double doors, my gaze falling to Carson’s table. They already have their food and they’re digging in, too preoccupied with eating to notice me. Or Jackson.

  Who is currently also watching them with a faint sneer on his face.

  I glare at him, and as if he can feel my eyes, he lifts his gaze to mine, one brow shooting up. I slowly shake my head, not afraid to show him just how annoyed he makes me feel.

  He smiles in return and turns his back on me, chatting up our friendly bartender, Chuck.

  Ugh. Jackson Rivers is absolutely infuriating.

  Putting extra swing in my step, I make my way to Carson and Jonah’s table, my voice extra loud as I ask, “How’s the food, boys?”

  Jonah nods, giving me a thumbs up since his mouth is full.

  “Really good,” Carson says with an easy smile, his appreciative gaze streaking down the length of me. I must look a mess since I’ve been working for five hours straight, but he doesn’t seem fazed by my stained T-shirt. “Thanks for the recommendation. The tri-tip sandwich is delicious.”

  “Right? It’s my absolute favorite, though after a while when you work here? You get sick of the food,” I admit.

  “Yeah. That would kind of ruin it for me,” Carson agrees.

  I laugh, as if he told a fantastic joke. Which, you know, he didn’t, so I’m being extra over the top. Trying to be flirty.

  Doesn’t come naturally but I’m giving it a whirl.

  “Are you ready for the math test tomorrow?” Carson asks me.

  I nibble my lower lip and shake my head. “I’ll need to study for it after work.”

  “Burn the midnight oil?”

  “You know it,” I say with what I hope is a flirty grin.

  “If you need help or have a question, you should text me,” he says. “I’m here for you with whatever math needs you may have.”

  I blink at him, realizing he’s flirting right back. If I really knew what I was doing, I’d invite him to my apartment so we could study together. But that might send the wrong message, and I barely know this guy. He seems perfectly nice and normal, but I still don’t know him well enough.

  “I totally will,” I say, smiling. “You know I’m not great at math.”

  “Oh, I remember,” he says before shoving a couple of fries in his mouth.

  “I should get back to work,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, we’re almost done,” Carson says, picking up his sandwich.

  I leave them be, trying to ignore Jackson over at the bar. But there are a couple of tables in that area that need clearing, and that’s my job for tonight, so eventually I’ll need to go over there.

  May as well make it now.

  Thinking I can sneak past Jackson unnoticed is silly of me. Of course, he spots me. And of course, he has something to say about it.

  “Putting some
of my tips to use, huh?”

  I come to a complete stop, glaring at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Flirting it up with ol’ Carson over there. How convenient that he showed up tonight,” he says.

  I absorb what he just said. The look on his face. My gaze goes to the drink in front of him. Looks like iced tea. Maybe he does know Chuck. Maybe he thought he could come in here and kill time before I’m off work. Maybe I’m overreacting about him showing up when I don’t necessarily want him around.

  But then again, maybe it’s a good thing he did show up. I don’t think I’m overreacting when I think this but…

  Pretty sure Jackson Rivers is jealous.

  Fifteen

  Jackson

  I showed up at Doghouse Grill a little early in the hopes I could just hang out until she’s ready to go. Maybe talk to Ellie for a little bit, watch her in her element. Plus, this is a favorite spot for me and my friends to come eat. The food is good. The atmosphere is fun. You always run into someone you know here, like it’s one big party.

  Pretty dead tonight, though. And I already ate dinner, so I’m not hungry. Chuck the bartender is a Bulldog football fan, so he’s easy to talk to. I’ve chatted him up before, and he knows I’m on the team. He waved me over when he spotted me walk in and offered me a free iced tea so I’m not going to turn him down. Wish it was laced with something else, but I’m underage, which sucks major ass.

  What I didn’t expect was to see Ellie’s potential new love interest here with his dorky friend. Making eyes at her as if she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

  Here’s where I’m getting real.

  I have been with beautiful women. Talked to them. Kissed them. Had sex with them. I moved around a lot when I was younger. I have seen a lot of parts of this country and done a lot of things. The summer tour only reiterated my feelings about my life, and what I can do with it.

  As in, I don’t want to settle down. Especially not now. I’m young. There are plenty of women out there I haven’t met. Beautiful, gorgeous, down for anything women.

  My favorite type.

  Here’s where it gets tricky.

  There is something about Ellie. She’s pretty. No, more than that. She’s beautiful. On the outside, as well as the inside. She’s got that sweet, girl next door vibe going for her, and I can’t help but find it attractive.