I scoff and turn my back to him. “I’m going. You’re the crazy one here.”
Again, he follows. “I’m not crazy. You’re jealous.”
Now I’m the one who starts to maniacally laugh. I’m not happy and nothing’s funny, but I can’t figure out how to handle this confident, emotional boy in front of me. He’s trying to get under my skin, and he’s succeeding. “Jealous?" I spin and point in the direction of The Study. “Of her? Carly? Your dream girl? I don’t think so.”
He bends to my level and his nose is inches from mine. He looks from my right eye to my left, and smirks. “You are. You’re jealous. I see it in those beautiful blue eyes.”
Beautiful blue—? I shake my head and take a step back. “Whoa. Aren’t we fighting?”
Ben pulls a grey skullcap out of a pocket of his flannel and stretches it over his mop of brown hair. “We are. I’m winning.”
I rack my brain for something witty or snarky to reply, but I’m functioning at half-power as I fall into a Ben trance. In the moment, all I can see is the dumb cap and how cute his hair looks sticking out from under the bottom of it, curling to tickle his neck. And then, of course, I have to look at that—his neck. There’s this unbearded section that’s so soft where my nose fits perfectly. Where I can inhale him. And then there’s the smell. God he always smells so good. That nose spot leads to his collarbone where his shirt loops from one shoulder to the other… Beautiful blue eyes…
“You’re not winning anything,” I offer in a weak voice. The words sound like an echo that someone else speaks.
He pulls me from my trance when he reaches for me and squeezes my nose. He smiles his melt-me grin, and I take a step back and tug at my collar, moving it off my neck. Suddenly, it’s about three hundred degrees in New Jersey in February. I pant to cool off. When did it get so hot?
Ben’s grin morphs to a chuckle as his eyes dart over me. “Oh, yeah. I’m definitely winning.”
Argh! I stomp my feet and jam my hands into my pockets. “I hate you,” I scream at his hairy face and spin to walk away. Dumb hormones.
The son of a bitch laughs behind me. “Seriously, Meg. Relax, okay?”
I sigh and slow down. “What?” The word is whiny and needy. “What do you want from me?”
He lowers the volume of his voice to match mine. “Can you be honest with me for one goddamn minute?” The silence hangs between us and our breath steams in the cold air. “What do you want, Meg?”
It’s the simplest question, but there’s no easy answer. I exhale an exhausted huff as I break into a cold sweat and my gut twists. I can’t answer it. I don’t know the answer. How could I not know what I want?
Nausea ripples in waves through my body, and I fight the urge to lay right in the middle of the quad and curl into a ball. “I think I’m sick.” I hope my words kick his caregiving nature into play so I can avoid the question.
He doesn’t let me off the hook. He reaches for my hands and holds them gently. My cold, sweaty palms warm at the touch of him. He’s always warm.
“What do you want, Sweet Meg?” This time, his voice is softer. “Tell me and I’ll do it. You have to tell me though. I can’t read your mind.”
Tears well in my eyes. I consider making a run for it before he witnesses the mental breakdown I may be having. Fighting nausea and holding back the tears, I turn away from him and start walking toward Sheridan again. I have to put space between us. I need space.
“I want to go home.”
“Meg—” His voice is quiet, sad. Even without seeing his face, I can tell he’s giving up. I’m exhausting him.
“Just let me go, Ben.”
“Fine. Go.”
I start to walk, thinking he’ll go back to The Study, to Carly, but he follows me. Again. “So go away,” I say, waving him in the other direction.
“Nope. I’m not letting you walk alone. And if you’re not going to talk, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.” He moves to walk alongside me.
I stare straight ahead as I navigate the path through the quad. I hear his words, even though I’m trying not to.
“I like you, Megan. I really do. I have since September, even when I was with Juliet. I don’t want to go out with Carly and don’t care if we matched a dumb questionnaire. I want to go out with you and be your boyfriend, not the guy down the hall who you fuck.”
I keep moving, focusing on keeping my bottom lip from quivering and the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I’d wanted to hear these words in September. But after Juliet, after what happened with Frank, after learning about the existence of my mother and the betrayal of my father, nothing makes sense. Now, the words just make me nervous.
“You’ve told me a million times that you don’t want me the same way. I ask you out and you say ‘no.’ I’m trying to accept that, but when you sink into me like you did at the bar tonight, when you get jealous over me, it gives me hope that we can be more. It’s so damn confusing.”
Sheridan Hall is in sight now, and I stare at the lights at the doorway and try to block out Ben. It’s impossible. I want to jump into his arms and beg him to be mine, to tell him I want him to be my boyfriend, that I want more than sex. But there’s something inside of me that won’t let me. I tense my shoulders and fist my hands, grabbing the liners in my pockets, determined to keep him out, even though he’s begging me to let him in. I wish I was different and could find a way to show him that I care. I want him to know his words mean something to me, but my jaw tenses and my eyes stay peeled on the doorway ahead of me. I don’t want to be closed off; I just am. I don’t know how to be any different.
“Can you at least answer me?” His voice pleads, and I hear the urgency as we approach the entrance to Sheridan.
In one movement, I swipe my key card and the door unlocks. “I’m sorry I’m confusing you. I’ll be clear.”
I shift and blink just for a second. When I open my eyes, he’s standing in front of me, waiting. The hope reflected in his eyes makes me want to run the other way. I can’t match it. I can’t have hope when my world is upside-down. “I’m never going to be your girlfriend, and I’m ending the sex right now.” I hear the words coming from a place inside of me that’s trying to keep me safe. A place where I’m not dragging Ben into my dysfunctional world and my messed up head.
“Don’t do this.” He follows me inside. As the door slams behind him, his arm circles my waist. He spins me around, his hand pressing into my lower back, pulling me toward him. My breath quickens, and when my eyes focus, I gasp at our closeness, at the way his body feels against mine. I arch away from him, but he leans forward, touching his nose to mine. “Please don’t.”
My heart beats, begging me to tilt my chin and kiss him, but before I do, he moves his free hand behind my head and rests his cheek against mine. “This isn’t over,” he says in a shaky voice.
I move my cheek against his beard.
“Please,” he murmurs into my ear.
The clicking of the door opening makes us jump, as a girl from the second floor steps in. I let go of Ben, and we move out of the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says, holding her hands up as she moves around us. She disappears up the stairs.
With space between us, I use the opportunity to move away from Ben and his cloud of emotion. This isn’t what I signed up for. I just wanted to have fun. I never thought we’d end up here, like this.
He follows me into the basement. “No, Meg—”
I don’t stop until we get to my door. Careful not to make eye contact, I spin around, puff out my chest, and exhale the words in one breath, hoping he believes them. “I want to end this.”
After the longest second of silence in history, I brave a peek. Ben tilts back his head and looks to the ceiling, and then he focuses on me again. He doesn’t say anything else—he walks away from me to room six, opens his door, and disappears.
Chapter Twelve
Ben
I use every ounce of control to gently s
hut the door to room six, but inside, I slam my fist down on the top of the dresser. Just fucking talk to me, I want to yell. Instead, I pull off my layers of shirts and curse as I open and slam shut each of my drawers.
My Big Joe Smith jersey taunts me from the drawer. I roll it into a ball and shove it in the back corner. I throw an NJU t-shirt over my body and pace the small room. I can’t get Meg out of my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on Carly. Meg doesn’t want me. Carly does.
Chase and Jules barge in as I’m about to put my fist through the wall. “What are you doing here?” Chase asks. “I thought you were with Carly.”
I’m tired of being nice to everyone. “I live here. What are you doing here? Don’t you two have your own room?”
“Wow.” Jules raises a palm to me. “Calm down.”
She whispers something to Chase, and he kisses her on the cheek. He looks to me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully you won’t be such a dick.” He shuts the door behind him as Juliet crosses her arms and stares.
“What?” I take a deep breath to calm myself.
“Why are you so angry? You found your ninety-fiver.”
“I don’t know why I’m angry.” Bullshit. I do know why, but I don’t want to admit it to Jules.
She moves closer, the concern showing in the tilt of her head and the warmth in her eyes. She rarely sees me upset. Historically I’m the one to calm her. “Is this about Megan and Dave? I won’t hook them up if you don’t want me to.”
At the mention of Megan’s name, I sink to the floor and lean against my bed, dropping my head back. She sits on the floor across from me.
“What’s wrong, Ben? You’ve always been there for me. Let me be here for you.”
I shake my head then rub my face to clear my thoughts. “I’m so turned around right now, Jules. With Megan, with Frank, with this fucking shoulder. I can’t get my head straight. Now this ninety-fiver shows up, and I have absolutely no desire to go out with her except to make Megan jealous.”
Jules shrugs. “Looks like that worked from the way she stormed out. What’s going on with you two?”
I peek at Jules. “Sex.” Meg will flip that I told, but I don’t care.
She furrows her brow and tilts her chin. “Wait. What?”
“That’s all she wants. She won’t go out with me. She doesn’t trust me or something.”
“Because of me?”
I nod. “I don’t know if it’s more than that. She’s… different. Doesn’t really let anyone in. Now that asshole Dave looks like a fucking vulture ready to swoop.”
Juliet snickers. “It’s hard not to fall for that whole I’m-so-sensitive-in-my-band act. Maybe he’s a genius when it comes to women.”
“I don’t care what he is as long as he stays off this floor.” My head hurts so I massage my temples. “I found out something about Megan that she never told anyone here, not even Maggie I don’t think.”
“Tell me.” She crosses her heart with her finger. “I won’t say anything. Promise.”
I sigh. “Her dad is Big Joe Smith.”
“The baseball player?”
“Football, sweetheart.”
Recognition lights her face. “Oh, right. The one you and Evan used to talk about?”
“That’s him. He was my favorite player. Megan knows that, and still, she never told me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she wanted to keep it under wraps. He’s pretty famous, especially in these parts.”
She nods, studying me. “Huh. That’s weird.”
“She knows how much I love football, how much it means to me, how rough it has been for me to lose that part of my life. Why wouldn’t she tell me?” I ask Jules as if there’s a chance she could know the answer.
She shrugs. “She must have her reasons.”
Maybe she’s just a jerk, I think, and then I immediately hate myself for having such a terrible thought about Meg.
We sit in silence for a second as I push back insecurities and nastiness. “Why do I feel like such a different person than I was a few months ago?”
Jules sighs and pouts. “We are different. We came to this new place and our friend was killed. You were shot.”
“But even with all that, I don’t want to be an asshole. I’m afraid I’m turning into an asshole.” I drop my face into my hands. Casual sex, dropping the team, ditching Carly at the bar, hating Dave for no reason. I’m morphing into “that guy” I hate.
“I won’t let that happen.” When I look up at her, she grins her giant white smile and stretches her leg to touch our feet together. “You can’t be an asshole, even if you try. Give yourself a break. We’re all still adjusting to the new normal.”
“I’m sick of adjusting. I’m sick of feeling so unsettled.”
Jules scoots to sit next to me. I rest my head on her shoulder. “Then settle,” she says. “Tell Megan how you feel.”
“I just did. She told me to fuck off.”
“So tell her again.”
I scoff. “How many times do I have to tell her? You make everything seem so easy.”
“Learned that from you, Benjamin.” She kisses my hair and I smile. “So, let me get this straight. You and Megan are having sex. She’s jealous that you found your ninety-fiver. You’re jealous Dave’s poking around. I’ve never seen you like this. You know, when Chase and I were friends, you never got jealous.”
“I did. It was different.”
“How?”
“It just was. You’re you, she’s her.” I lift my head off her shoulder, and she draws her knees to her chest.
“Because no matter how much you love me, you’ve never been in love with me.” Jules rests her chin on her knees and her eyes turn sad.
“Come on, Jules. You dumped me for my roommate,” I pull her hair so she knows I’m teasing. I’m over that. “You know I love you anyway. Always.”
Juliet looks into my eyes. “You better. I still need you, you know. No matter who we’re in love with.”
I lift my arm, my bad arm, around her shoulders and pull her toward me, holding her close. “I still need you too. And I’m not in love with Megan.”
“Yeah, right. You know, you two are a perfect match. You can sit around being goofballs and watch football all day. I can’t think of a more compatible pair. It’s amazing you got through the ACME thing without matching.”
I smirk. “There were about three thousand people at the ACME thing. She must have a better match out there. And just because we like the same stuff doesn’t mean I’m in love with her or we’re supposed to be together.”
She rolls her eyes. “Nah, it’s better if you don’t like the same stuff. That ACME thing is shit anyway if it matched you to Carly.” She shudders and grimaces like she just ate bad fish.
“I take it you don’t approve?”
“She’s not your type. I can tell.”
I shake my head. “You never think anyone is my type. Except Meg. She’s the only one you semi-approve of.”
Jules shrugs. “I like her. I admit it.”
“Me too.”
I sigh and stretch my legs. Jules is quiet for a moment. I study her big brown eyes, and when she twists her hair around her hand, I know her wheels are turning. “Uh-oh,” I say. “What?”
She lets go of her hair and stands up, pulling me to my feet. “You know, at the bar Megan said Carly isn’t your ninety-fiver.”
“So? She was jealous.”
“She was. But it was more than that. She said it so matter-of-factly.” Jules looks around the room. “Where’s your questionnaire?”
When Jules has a plan, things get crazy, and I’m not sure I want to play.
I must be staring because she waves her hands. “Go. Get it.”
Sighing in defeat, I reach for my laptop on my desk. I open it, find the email with the completed questionnaire, and pass it to Jules.
“Let me see here.” She settles on my bed, resting the computer over her
crossed legs. “So your ninety-fiver answered almost every question the same, right?”
“Yeah, supposedly.”
Juliet stares at the screen, her brow furrowed, twisting her hair with one hand and scrolling with the other. Her wheels are turning.
Finally, she looks up at me. “Oh for the love of God, Benjamin.”
“What?”
“Sometimes you are a dumb jock.” She shoves the laptop at me. “Read it. Aloud.”
I look at the screen. “Favorite football team, the Mustangs. Favorite player, Joe Smith.” I look up at Jules. “I still can’t believe he’s her dad.”
“Keep going.” She waves her hand at me.
“Male/female crush, same as mine.” I stare at Jules then look back to the computer. “Favorite way to spend a Sunday. Watching football with my family—”
“Notice how Megan disappears every Sunday before our dinners?” Jules raises an eyebrow at me. “She’s probably going to be with her dad and all those football people.”
I catch onto Jules’ train of thought as I peruse the entire questionnaire. Could it be? Three sexual partners, slept with someone famous. Who the hell is that? Favorite food, cake. On and on, every one of my answers could apply to Meg too.
“Holy shit.” Another secret revealed. “Megan is my ninety-fiver.”
Juliet smiles. “Looks like.”
“Then who’s Carly?”
“Some psycho bitch. My instincts are always right.” Jules beams and brushes her nails over her chest. “Damn, I’m good.”
I pick up my phone to call Megan, but Jules grabs it from me, flashing her crazy eyes. “Wait! Megan doesn’t know that we know.”
I smile at my accomplice. “So what’s the plan?”
Megan
I try to avoid Ben all week, but everywhere I go, I run into him. Literally. In the hallway, the bathroom, the lounge. I run the campus and he runs past me. I try to get coffee and he’s playing ping pong in the Student Center. I go to the library and he’s there.
She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2) Page 13