The Wrong Way: Hanson University: One

by McKenna Kerrick

I stare across the room in a bit of a daze. If anything, I'm trying to sort out how I felt about last night's dining date encounter.

  My roommate, Nina, is sitting across from me and waiting for me to offer up details. The only café on campus makes for a good study place, except my concentration has been shot to hell it seems.

  “So I ate, we talked about what we do on campus,” I finally exhale. “He was really nice and sweet. I made a joke about being hungry for ice cream and he suggested we go.”

  Nina rolls a lock of brown hair around one of her fingers. “So, what you're saying is, he took you out for ice cream?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  “And it was good,” I frown.

  “Then why do you look like someone stole your puppy?”

  “I don't have a puppy.”

  “Doesn't matter,” Nina rolls her green eyes. “You understood what I meant. So spill.”

  “I don't know. I stopped to tell Killian we were leaving because I didn't want him to worry, I even said we were going for ice cream and he still looked like he wanted to murder Brad.”

  “So Killian doesn't approve?”

  “When does he ever approve, Nina?”

  She leans back in her seat and shrugs her shoulders. “You've got me there. I have no idea. Maybe he's got some, like, guy radar that just lets him know ahead of time if some guy is going to be wasted space.”

  “That would be nice,” I sigh. “I just don't know. And then Brad kissed me last night.”

  My roommate shimmies her shoulders and wags her perfect eyebrows. “Was it good? Like Va-Va-Va-Voom good?”

  “Uh,” I wince, “not exactly. Have you ever, um, had someone concentrating so hard on their tongue they don't even realize they're licking your chin?”

  Nina stares at me for a heartbeat before banging her fist on the table as she shakes with laughter. “Oh my God, tell me you're joking.”

  “I wish.”

  “So he seriously just had a full-on make out session with your chin instead of you?”

  “Pretty much.” I groan as I shut my eyes briefly. “I liked him, though. Up until the kissing started. I really did like him.”

  “Maybe no one's ever corrected him on the proper place to put his tongue,” she wiggles her eyebrows again. “Maybe you should teach him.”

  “Maybe,” I concede. “I just wish Killian would stop popping up and being so overprotective.”

  “Doubt that's ever going to happen.”

  True, but a girl can dream can't she?

  “So what happened with Killian anyways? How was his date?”

  “I don't think he liked her. She wasn't even there when I came over. Guess she got a little distracted by him being a football player.”

  “You don't say?” Nina rolls her eyes. “Everyone wants a piece of him.”

  “You don't.”

  “I have a boyfriend,” Nina shrugs. “Besides I don't even know Killian. I've only met him a handful of times and yeah, he's polite to me, but he doesn't go out of his way to be my friend like he does to you.”

  “It's just because we've known each other so long. I was kind of hoping he'd meet someone last night.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?”

  Nina taps her fingers on the table. “I don't know, I guess I was under the impression that he was perfectly content doing what he's doing. That the only female he'd forever keep by his side would be you.”

  “That's ridiculous. He'll meet someone eventually.”

  “And then what? Your friendship takes a backseat to his new relationship?” Nina scoffs. “No way. No girl will live up to you.”

  “But I'm not even his type,” I roll my eyes. “No one needs to act like I’m competition.”

  She stares at me for a long moment. “You're competition for his focus. He'll always stop what he's doing for you. Just like you would do for him.”

  Well, when she phrases it like that, she's not wrong.

  “It's weird he didn't try and pick her up.”

  “Killian says he wants someone who doesn't care who he is though,” I repeat. “So why would he pick her up?”

  “If you really think he wants someone who doesn't care who he is then why isn't he trying to date you?” Nina sighs. “That's all I'm saying. I've got to get to going, it's fifteen until classes start this morning. I'll catch up with you later.”

  She waves goodbye to me as she disappears out the door and towards the opposite side of campus that I'm usually on.

  Throwing away my trash, I place my large sketchbook under my arm and make my way towards the Fine Arts building.

  It's round and on the inside is divided so that the entire right side consists of nothing but music while the left side is solely for artists. There's classrooms on the main and second floor, while the basement has studios for the upperclassmen.

  “Hey,” a voice chirps behind me as I start for the grand staircase to go down.

  “Agh!” I yelp and spin around, dropping my sketchbook as my heart takes off beating a mile a minute.

  “Sorry,” Brad flushes. “Didn't mean to startle you.”

  “It's alright,” I mumble as I scoop up my drawing pad. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have music theory in an hour,” he gives me a funny look. “I guess it slipped my mind last night that we'd be in the same building today.”

  Right, because he was a choir major. “That's fine. Having a good morning?”

  “I am now,” he grins and a dimple appears by the side of his mouth. He falls in step with me and grins down as we head towards the basement. “How about your morning?”

  “I had coffee with my roommate before classes started,” I shrug. “So pretty good I guess.”

  We come to a little studio that's been deemed mine for the semester and I drop my stuff on my little work desk. It's mostly just similar to a flea market set up, there's three walls and an open slot for others to walk by and see what you're working on.

  “Well, this is me.”

  “You did all of this?” Brad whistles. “Impressive.” As we walk around to look at my different pieces of artwork, I take a moment to study him.

  Brad has blond hair, a slightly tan complexion and baby blue eyes that look almost like sea water. He's not very tall or built, but he has a nice smile and is polite.

  “It's really cool, Lila.” He turns to look at me and spots what I'm guessing is my board full of pictures of family and friends on my desk. He taps on a picture of Killian and me when he won his first game here at Hanson University. “Guess you two go way back then.”

  “We've known each other since we were little,” I nod. “He's my best friend.”

  “So you've never been with him?”

  I don't know why him asking that causes knots to form in my stomach like lead. He's not the first person to ask that. “No, I've never been with him. Like I said, we're best friends.”

  “Sorry, it's just odd, you know? Killian Blane usually has girls going out of their way to get to him. I wasn't really sure what his deal was last night so I assumed. Sorry about that.”

  “He's just overprotective is all.”

  “Of the only female friend he has? I can see why.”

  Of course he could but I couldn't.

  “Your artwork is pretty neat.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at me. “So I guess you're used to hanging around the popular crowd, huh?”

  “Not really. I mean I know a couple of players, but I don't exactly thrive in their world. I was force-fed knowledge of football by Killian when he started playing PeeWee football as a kid. Once high school hit, it was pretty obvious where he stood on the scale of popularity. It's just not for me. I don't need my life scrutinized the way his is.”

  “Because he plans on going to the NFL.”

  “Exactly. It's just sad seeing all those girls throw themselves at him for his namesake. Not even for him. He's a great guy, I just wish people could see
that.”

  Brad stares at me silently. “And you're sure you've never had a thing for him?”

  “I'm sure.” Although why people seem to keep bringing it up makes me wonder if they're seeing something that I'm not.

  But I'm not Killian’s type. I don't have ginormous boobs or fake hair or wear tiny outfits to get attention.

  Killian was right to keep me out of the game of playing by what his life brought him. Because it didn't seem to bring happiness or love. Just girls with no faces and no heart.

  Everything was starting to feel awkward now. Neither of us making a point to walk away or say something. Time for big girl britches to be pulled up.

  “So I had a nice time last night,” I smile softly. “I love ice cream, so thank you for taking me.”

  “No problem. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to find when I started doing these date nights, but I'm glad it led me to you.”

  “I wasn't really sure myself,” I laugh. “It seemed awful odd to go to, but I figured it couldn't hurt to check it out. So last night wasn't your first time there?”

  “I've been going the past three weeks,” Brad wrinkles his nose. “First two girls were in sororities and talked about their sisters and pretty much bashed the Greek system. Not sure why the chose to stay in. And then last week,” Brad chuckles and shakes his head. “Last week I get this girl far more interested in the guy at the next table over.”

  “Oh no,” I frown.

  “Yeah, that's what I thought. Turns out his date was looking at a guy sitting in the non-cornered off section of the Union, so I guess it all worked out for them.”

  “Poor you.”

  “I don't know if this is going to come out creepy or not since I don't really know you that well,” Brad swallows nervously. “But I was wondering if you'd be interested in going on a proper date with me that wasn't set up by campus?”

  “A real date?” I can't even remember when He Who Shall Not Be Named took me on a date.

  “Yeah, that's what I was thinking. We both dress up, go somewhere fancy where I pretend to know whatever wine the waiter is talking about and try and impress you.”

  Brad certainly has a way of making it hard to think of a reason not to go.

  Killian won't approve, the little voice inside my head says. And the little voice is right, of course. But he'll just learn that I'm trying to move on from what happened with my ex-boyfriend.

  Sometimes it's easier to jump with both feet than to dangle one foot over the edge.

  “I would love to,” I grin.

  “Great. Here,” Brad tugs out his phone, “let me get your number so I can text you to make plans.”

  I rattle off my number before asking him for his. This is how it's supposed to go. You meet someone nice, albeit somewhat unconventionally, and things take off from there.

  “Will you need to run it by your best friend first to make sure it's okay again?”

  “I'll probably just tell my roommate Nina where I am,” I answer sheepishly. “I know Killian can be a little forward in his approach to the males in my life.”

  “I'm not scared of him,” Brad says.

  I look over at him, his face all twisted up on one side that makes me think he might be lying. A lot of people are scared of Killian, but it's okay that Brad wants to save-face.

  “I'm more used to girls sticking together. I don't think I've ever been interested in someone whose best friend happens to not only be a guy, but a pretty popular guy who probably bench presses more than I weigh.”

  “Well, you've got nothing to worry about.”

  “I know,” Brad grins. “You've basically friend-zoned him to where he's never getting out. I don't think I've ever been this happy to meet a girl completely oblivious to his looks and charm.”

  Wow. I'm not sure if there was a backhanded compliment somewhere in there or not. But it certainly felt like it was one.

  “Thanks,” I deadpan with a forced smile. “I need to get working on my project, so I'll see you later?”

  “Yeah, I'll find you later.” Brad leans down and places a quick kiss on my lips. It felt one hundred percent better than his attempt at a make out session with my chin.

  “Bye,” I say with a little wave as he steps away from me.

  Brad grins and tilts his chin before leaving me to do my work. God, why did it feel like we spent way more time discussing Killian than anything else?

  I hope Brad wasn't going to turn into one of those guys who thinks they'll get ahead in life by trying to become buddy-buddy with Killian.

  Don't think those thoughts, Lila. You don't know for sure.

  And that was the whole problem. I didn't know.

  Chapter Six

  Killian

  Ian holds the pizza box away from his chest as we make our way towards the Fine Arts building.

  Lila texted she was running haggard due to getting a late start and if I'd be willing to grab her a snack on my way back to our apartment complex after football practice.

  Ian casually mentioned he was hungry and we should just bring pizza to Lila and eat with her so she could have a break from being stressed.

  I take back my earlier assessment of not wanting to ever listen to Ian's advice again.

  We're coming up to the front stairs outside of the building when a bunch of people in black shuffle out. They're what Lila refers to as the wannabe emos that make up the art department and some of the music kids.

  I think they're about ready to shit themselves when they stop to gawk at us. One of them in particular catches my eye. It's fucking Bradley from last night at the Union.

  “Hey,” he awkwardly says. His little group of friends mouths part open in wonder that he dares talk to me.

  I'm not a freaking God, but you'd think I was like a live version of Thor or Superman sometimes. “Hey.”

  “Lila's busy,” Bradley tilts his chin up.

  “Cool. But she asked me to grab her something. And I don't usually interfere with her work.” Oh yeah, I have a feeling he's the reason she's running behind.

  Bradley looks awful smug for a moment before my entire statement must register with him. “I could have gotten her something.”

  “Don't worry about it,” Ian cuts in. “She's got us.” He claps a hand on my shoulder and nudges me towards the door. “Now, if I'm starving then we know she's starving, man. Let's go feed your girl.”

  Pretty sure he threw out the your girl bit just to piss off Bradley. And from the flare of the guys nostrils, Ian’s comment hit its mark.

  We make our way down into the basement of the building. Lila has her hair twisted into a messy bun and she's bouncing in place which usually indicates how stressed out she is.

  “We come bearing pizza,” I announce.

  Her gunmetal eyes look up and settle solely on the pizza in Ian's hands. “Give me!” She practically pounces forward and grabs the box, setting it on her desk before opening the lid and shoving half a slice of pizza into her mouth.

  “Very attractive,” I snort.

  “I've been dying. I've been down here in between my classes and I want to get this project out of the way before the weekend comes.”

  “Why?” I frown. “It's Friday night.”

  “Planning on partying?” Ian asks her while taking a slice for himself.

  She better not be planning on partying.

  “No,” Lila rolls her eyes. “That's Killian's thing. I might have a date.”

  A date? God, I hope it's not with that jerk outside.

  “Brad came by earlier and asked me out on a real date,” Lila chuckles softly. “I don't even remember the last time that I was out in public with a guy.”

  I resist the urge to tell her we were in public together last night. But that probably doesn't count in her eyes.

  “So,” I say and snag a slice of pizza as well, “guess you like him.”

  “He's nice,” Lila smiles.

  “He's part of the wannabe emo brigade we just saw leaving thi
s place.”

  “What?” Lila frowns but turns to Ian. Apparently I'm not being all that polite at the moment for her to talk to.

  “Decked out in all black,” Ian explains. “With a bunch of other people also in all black. The I want to be in the fiery depths of Hell worshipping Satan kind of black. The girls had on dark makeup that was overly done.”

  “Did you notice some were wearing trench coats?” I add.

  Ian gives me a bewildered look as he nods his head. “It's a heat index of one hundred outside.”

  “Brad wasn't wearing a trench coat earlier,” Lila defends. “What is with you two? He's a nice guy and you're acting like assholes.”

  “I don't think pointing out he's sketchy makes us assholes,” Ian says. “Especially since we brought you pizza.”

  “Plus, if you date him then you'll be around his friends. And you always said you didn't like those fake emo people,” I add.

  She glares at me for speaking. “People can change their minds.”

  “You don't even dress like the majority of the people in this building do for art,” I shrug. “You aren't a hippie and you aren't gothic. You're just you.”

  Lila’s only proving my point when she glances down at her own outfit. Skinny jeans and her cowboy boots, a well-worn tank top and her cropped leather jacket is tossed in the corner of the studio.

  She kept ahold of her roots of the South as well as having a bit of edge. Something that always amused me about her. While we both wore our cowboy boots still, we were few and far between on campus.

  On occasion I would go home to pick up an odd shift at the farm for extra pay, which definitely required the use of my boots. And Lila was usually around the horses, so to see her out of her boots would probably make her unrecognizable.

  “So when do we get to formally meet this Bradley?” I ask.

  “You never want to meet the guys I like,” she frowns.

  She's also not wrong. I don't usually want to meet them. They're never good enough for her.

  “It's just awful quick,” Ian shrugs like it's no big deal. “So we're going to be a little over-the-top about it.”

  “You actually want to get to know him?” Lila questions but she doesn't sound convinced. “As in be nice to him?”