Upsy Daisy: A First Love College Romance

by Smartypants Romance

  Dread filled me. I shouldn’t have left Daisy to cool down this week. She didn’t cool down; she’d heated up, and now she was an inferno.

  My regret multiplied.

  In retrospect it all seemed so clear. Perhaps I could’ve waited until the end of the year to try to get to know her, but I’d been so caught up. I felt like Daisy had swept me off my feet with her generous spirit, her quick wit, and her easy smiles.

  But none of that mattered now. Because she hated me.

  She hates me.

  I couldn’t move past that moment. I couldn’t go back and undo what was already done, and I couldn’t see a way past this. I also couldn’t let go of the hope that one day Daisy might not hate me.

  I was a mess of conflicting emotions and it left me paralyzed.

  I’m not sure how long I sat at the kitchen table before Jules came home, but when I snapped back into the moment he was standing in front of me clapping his hands just inches from my face.

  “Thank God! For a second I thought I was going to have to call our damned parents and you know neither of us wants to deal with that,” Jules joked.

  When I didn’t respond to his joke he turned from the sink and said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Daisy hates me,” I blurted.

  Logically, I knew Julian was the wrong person to talk to about this. I was allegedly dating his cousin for Pete’s sake. This was desperately unfair to him. But I was desperate. I had to get this sick feeling of helplessness out of me some way because I was so close to walking back to campus and telling Daisy the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And then begging for her forgiveness every which way.

  I couldn’t tell Jules the truth either but maybe I could share my . . .

  Heartbreak?

  Is that what this is?

  Did Daisy break my heart? Could you have your heart broken if you weren’t in love?

  I wasn’t in love.

  But I saw now that I had been falling.

  Julian looked at me like I’d grown another head and then said calmly, “Well, yeah, of course she does. You lead her on and then you dropped her as soon as your girlfriend returned to town.”

  He turned back toward the sink, twisting the knife. “If I were her, I’d hate your ass too. Hell, I only know about it and I’m two minutes away from hating you myself.”

  He grabbed his apple slices and sauntered toward his room.

  Then he stopped and turned back around, and walked back to the table with what sounded like laborious steps. I heard the chair scape against the ceramic floor and he said, “Okay. I’m here. Talk.”

  I dropped my head in my hands because I didn’t know where to begin.

  After a second Jules joked, “Trevor, we both know I’m not known for my patience, but I really am trying here.”

  I nodded but otherwise said nothing.

  “Look—I know we don’t typically even talk about this type of stuff.” I looked over at him expecting a grimace of distaste, but his expression wasn’t that at all.

  Jules looked confused and concerned. “I have to ask—do you love my cousin?”

  “Of course I do,” I answered automatically.

  “Then I have to say I’m baffled. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Trev, but something is clearly wrong. You're not an asshole. You are not indecisive. And you certainly aren’t a womanizer. So what is this really all about?”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

  Julian raised his eyebrow, took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes at my continued silence. When he spoke again he sounded surprisingly wistful, “I was always grateful that Elodie chose you. That you chose each other. I knew you were both good people. I knew that you’d both been through way too much. I knew you would be gentle with each other’s hearts.”

  I cleared my throat but remained silent.

  “But lately . . . Do you love Daisy, Trevor?” His gaze was piercing.

  “No,” I said quietly.

  Please, Julian, don’t ask me if I was falling in love with her.

  Julian exhaled impatiently. “So this is just about guilt then?”

  “Yes, I feel guilty. I took things too far with Daisy and I never should have done that. She didn’t deserve that.”

  Julian looked chagrined. “I understand guilt better than you know. If that is true, then pull yourself together. I know this might be new to you because you don’t normally mess up this awfully. You don’t normally mess up at all—but this is the world we regular humans inhabit all the time. Sometimes you mess up badly. You say or do something horrific and you’re not forgiven. You did a bad thing to Daisy. That is your bag to deal with. And it is not everyone else’s job to feel bad for you because you feel guilty.”

  I knew all of that, but I couldn’t give him any more context, so I just agreed. “Thanks, Jules. You’re absolutely right. I’ll work on getting myself . . . I’ll work on it.”

  He nodded, grabbed his plate of apples, and headed back toward his room.

  Stopping halfway, he called over his shoulder, “Trev?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know . . . you know if you don’t want to be with El, then I wouldn’t have an issue with that, right? Same for her—I just want both of you to be happy.”

  “I know that, Jules.”

  Then he added, with a bit of flint in his voice, “Good, then I’ll just say this plainly. Something about this whole thing still doesn’t sit right with me, but I can’t figure out what it is. You and Elodie are always so secretive about your relationship. You claim you’re in love with her—”

  I hadn’t said I was in love with her; I’d said I loved her, but I held my tongue.

  “But you still asked Daisy out. Elodie claims she loves you too, and yet she was all too happy to just move past what happened like it was nothing. And you might not have gone on an actual date with Daisy, but it was definitely not nothing. None of this makes any sense.”

  Julian was so damned smart it was amazing we’d been able to keep the ruse up for this long. I made a note to redouble my effort to convince Elodie to just tell him.

  “I have to wonder why something that on the surface seems so easy has to be so hard.”

  He stood staring at me, one hand on his hip like a parent lecturing a wayward child. “Trevor, if you want to be with Daisy and Daisy, by some strange miracle, still wants to be with you, then apologize to Elodie and leave my cousin alone. If you want to be with Elodie, then be with Elodie! And stop moping around acting like you’re doing her some favor by denying yourself Daisy. But Trevor—if you don’t know who you want to be with, then be with your damned self. This isn’t hard.”

  He turned his back and strode to his room.

  I’d never take away Elodie’s autonomy. God knew she had enough to deal with on her own, but this?

  Julian was wrong. This was hard.

  And it was lonely.

  I hoped I would be able to convince her to let go of the notion that telling him would somehow result in calamity but I knew well how much guilt hooked a person.

  I reminded myself to stay patient with her. She’d only ever told one other person, and then tragedy had ensued.

  I got up from the from the table and hid away in my room. I found my graphite pencils and my pad and let myself get lost in the rote movements. When I’d first come to live with the Marshalls, drawing was the only thing that would soothe the ache of missing home. I’d draw my parents’ store. I’d draw way the trees looked in the fall as the leaves abandoned them one by one. I’d draw little slices of Green Valley all the time. At the time, I’d thought it was just me testing my memory on how clearly it could remember, but as I got older I realized that maybe I was drawing things so I wouldn’t forget them. For the first time in a long, long time, I thought of Green Valley and I felt even more melancholy. Could a place still be home if you hadn’t lived there for nine years?

  I sighed and let the thought go. I let the sound of the pencils scra
ping and scratching into paper and carving their marks, soothe me and lull me into a trance. It felt fitting somehow; I’d had marks carved into me this week.

  Julian poked his head in to check on me at some point. I heard the note of surprise in his voice. “Drawing? You haven’t done that in an age.” I nodded—or at least, I thought I did—but I couldn’t respond. It was the first bit of peace I’d felt all week and I was desperate to hold on to it. I heard the door close as he left me to my solitude.

  I drew until the sides of my hand were stained grey and black, until my hands cramped, and even then I kept tweaking, opening the irises a bit, filling out the lashes.

  I exhaled a resigned breath when I realized where my mind had taken me. Those were Daisy’s eyes. Just her eyes. Vivid, beautiful, crinkled at the edges and full of joy. Her eyes the way they looked when she’d laughed with me. I stared at them for a long time, and I wondered if she’d ever look at me that way again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Daisy

  Almost a month into the semester I felt like I was finally beginning to get my legs under me. The weeks had been filled with small victories. I’d attended every weekly check in with Trevor and hadn’t said a blessed word to him. Our routine was as follows: we met in the library, I handed him my paper, he read it, and would give me a curt nod if he didn’t have any questions. He would watch me leave.

  Initially he’d tried making conversation, questioning me about whether or not any of my professors were giving me a hard time or asking if I had any questions about an upcoming project, but I’d been prepared. I’d calmly pull a small notebook out and written my responses. He’d raised his eyebrows and smiled like he couldn’t help himself, then he’d read the answers and given me back my notebook.

  I did not notice his gorgeous smile. Okay I did—I wasn’t blind—but I didn’t moon over it, and that felt like a victory.

  And last week, I’d updated my weekly report with a line at the very top that said, “All answers to questions will be responded to in writing within 72 hours and may be picked up from the office of Jubilee Hall.”

  He’d raised his eyebrows and smirked but just shook his head. After he’d read over my update he’d nodded and I’d left.

  I’d also run into Elodie Mayhew, literally.

  I’d been coming out of the shower and bumped into her as she was walking to the next stall. Part of my mind wondered what she was doing here. I’d guessed she was visiting a friend; there were a handful of upperclassmen who lived in Jubilee, like our Resident’s Assistants and some like Odie’s roommate Janice, who had filled out her housing application late.

  After I’d gasped from the shock of the impact and then gasped again from the recognition, I said what I’d been wanting to say to her. “I’m so sorry!” Because I was sorry. I wasn’t sorry I’d kissed Trevor. I had no idea Elodie was his girlfriend when that happened. But I was sorry that I played any part in her getting hurt. And even though she wouldn’t know that’s what was behind my sorry, I wanted to give it to her anyway.

  I had no idea if Elodie knew what happened, but Jules had seen Trevor and me kiss, and if he were any kind of cousin he would have told her about it.

  Then again, if he were any kind of cousin he wouldn’t still be hanging out with Trevor, yet I’d spotted them around campus, still thick as thieves. Either way, I wasn’t going to tell her if she didn’t already know what happened. I suspected she wouldn’t take too kindly to a total stranger telling her two of the people she was close to had betrayed her. Especially if the person who was telling her also played a role in the story.

  No, I was going to keep my mouth shut.

  She’d grabbed her towel a little tighter, flashed a quick and sort of sad-looking smile, and said, “No, no it’s my fault. This one’s all on me.” Then she sidestepped me and darted into the shower.

  In addition to surviving the Elodie awkwardness and the Trevor meetings, I’d also gotten word that the last of my books that were back ordered were in stock.

  Speaking of books, I still needed to figure out how we were going to help James. We were getting too far into the semester for her to still be without books. At my last count she had exactly three books. She’d been able to get a copy of the English 202 text from someone, and a copy of the AP Stylebook whose origins were unknown. I’d snuck a look at a couple of her syllabi and part of the issue was that English majors had a lot of supplemental reading. There were at least three books for each class. I had to give it to her though—the girl was resourceful. She had become the xerox queen. I didn’t know where she was getting the copies but I suspected James had charmed some poor boy in her class into copying the first five chapters of each book for her.

  I was ruminating on this and trying to study for my first round of exams that were slated for the following week when I heard a knock at my door. Odie, who was past waiting for responses from me, pranced in cheerily, singing, “Happy Friday! Wanna go with me on a mission?”

  The clock read 4:58. Odie should’ve been in class.

  She followed my line of sight and sang, “Cancelled!” And made jazz hands. “The professor didn’t show up. Isn’t the fifteen-minute rule glorious?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “That is not a real thing.”

  She shrugged. “Well she didn’t show. And I didn’t feel like waiting around to dissect sheep brains or cow liver or baby geese wing membranes or whatever sadism she had planned for today.”

  “Baby Geese wing membranes?” I laughed. Odie hated her biology lab class with a passion.

  “You know what I mean! Anyway, are you tied to your life of mathematics and fabrics or can you get away? I haven’t seen you all week.”

  I stood, stretched, and grabbed my shoes and a light jacket since the weather was starting to change.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Post office and then Sonny’s to get a few things.”

  I grabbed the key to my P.O. box which I hadn’t checked in a while. There was probably a check from my father waiting for me. Before I’d left home he’d told me that he would send me twenty dollars a month for my living expenses and that I needed to manage my money appropriately or I’d have to wait until the next month.

  I’d brought some cash with me from Green Valley, but my funds were getting low.

  When we opened Odie’s P.O. box, she opened it eagerly and shouted “JACKPOT!” when she spotted two cards.

  She did a little dance that made me crack a smile and then she ripped them open right there on the spot.

  She grabbed a twenty from one card, squealed in delight, blew a kiss at the bill and then stuffed it in her pocket. Then she flipped the other card open, grabbed the five inside, hugged it to her chest, and read the card twice.

  My P.O. box was empty.

  “Who were the cards from?” I asked curiously as we headed toward Sonny’s Convenience Store.

  “My mom and pop sent me the card with five bucks,” Odie replied her voice radiant. “They also sent me a note saying, ‘Don't spend it all in one place.’”

  We both laughed.

  “And who was the big money from?"

  “Oh that, that was from this sweet old lady at my church back home. She’s absolutely loaded and has no grandkids. She loves spoiling all the kids from my church.”

  We arrived at Sonny’s a few minutes later and I helped Odie as she picked out a few goodies for her room. Odie wasn’t a big snacker. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t a big eater, period, from what I’d noticed. Over the last month she’d become noticeably thinner, but she didn’t look unhealthy at all. And when I’d asked her about her lack of appetite she’d just smiled and said she was a finicky eater and the food in the cafeteria didn’t taste the same as home. I’d heard a few others ask about her slimmed-down figure and she’d dismissed them too saying she was “watching her figure” or “trying to lose her baby fat.” The thing was—there was nothing wrong with how Odie already looked. She was heavier than both Jame
s and me but she was just curvier. Both James and I had told her that and she’d smiled in a way that meant, “I don’t care what you say.”

  I wandered the aisles aimlessly since I was the closest I’d ever been to flat broke in my life until I ended up staring at a bag of flour. If I could have afforded it, I would’ve picked up the ingredients for some chocolate chip cookies. The ones I’d made in the skillet hadn’t been half bad.

  Odie snuck up behind me. Her “Boo!” caused me to jump a mile.

  “What you dreaming of, Daisy?”

  “Cookies,” I said, dreamily. If my father sent me money next week I’d come back to the store and get the ingredients. I’d hoped to be doing a little more cooking in my Intro to Culinary Arts course, but the first four weeks had been heavy on food safety and light on cooking.

  I spent that evening in Odie’s room. Her roommate was rarely around but we made it a point to keep to Odie’s side of the room anyway.

  James eventually danced in holding a fish sandwich from Ed’s Fish House and I jumped up and down as she held it high in the air above my head.

  “Share, James! Share! Don’t make me tickle you,” I threatened.

  Ed’s Fish House sold the best fish sandwiches in all of Nashville.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Ed’s!” I demanded.

  “First of all, I didn’t know myself. My study buddy, Calvin, asked me to go after class.”

  I raised one brow skeptically, at the use of the use of the term “study buddy.” Calvin was a sophomore who was in James’s Creative Writing class and English 202 class. I’d seen him around James a few times, and bless his poor bound-to-be-broken heart, he was half in love with her. I was not sure if James was unaware of his feelings or really good at pretending, but it was also clear that James saw him as a friend.

  Only a friend.

  James finally relented and handed me the sandwich.

  “You didn’t eat there?” I asked around a mouthful of warm white bread, sweet and tangy barbecue sauce, and white fish seasoned and fried to perfection.