We Were Here: A New Adult Romance Prequel to Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Stories Book 1)

by Daisy Prescott

  I managed to make it there with a minute to spare. Showing up late wouldn’t buy me any points, and I needed more than my usual charms to get out of the mess I’d made.

  All week Jo’s disapproving frown and words from our last conversation echoed around in my head. Other than being a smart blonde, she was nobody and nothing to me.

  I gave myself a pep talk, but when I walked in the room and saw her sitting at the long table at the front with the rest of the committee, my confidence disappeared. Of course my luck was such shit, she’d decide my fate. Pre-law major and everything.

  After the stunt I pulled on Halloween, and how pissed off she had been when she showed up to my room the next day, I had no doubt she’d throw everything at me she could.

  Maybe I’d be kicked out of the dorm. I didn’t plan to live on campus after next spring anyway. An extra six months of rent? Nothing. I still had a few thousand in the bank from the beginning of this year. My parents would cover rent. With my money in the bank, I could even live comfortably without room and board paid for by them. If they cut me off. Which was always a possibility. Hell, I could get a roommate and make him pay most of the utilities and rent. Maybe even turn a profit.

  I sat in the row of seats at the back and waited to be called. Some guy stated his defense for urinating in a library stairwell. Even I didn’t believe his argument about the similar paint color in the men’s room confusing him. The lack of urinals should have been his first clue.

  After him, some girl had a long story about parking repeatedly in the fire zone. She had over two hundred dollars in unpaid parking tickets and wanted them forgiven.

  Good luck, sister.

  I zoned out as Jo and the other four on the council debated. Resting my head on the back of the seat, I shut my eyelids. In my head, I sang the lyrics to “Fight for Your Right” and drummed my fingers on the armrest. The warm room and the afternoon caught up with me. I felt my head loll and the voices in the room disappeared. I let sleep overtake me.

  “Benton Grant.”

  “Benton Grant.”

  Why was someone shouting for my dad?

  “Ben Grant!” Jo’s raised voice snapped me out of the half-sleep I’d fallen into.

  I snapped my head forward. “What? I’m here!” I scrambled out of my seat and dropped my bag.

  Jo rolled her eyes and the woman next to her shook her head. One guy laughed, while the other two stared me down.

  A bored looking older man sat at the end of the front row taking notes. He had to be the faculty advisor. He read Jeff’s write-up out loud. “Benton Grant, for drug paraphernalia, suspected possession of a personal amount of marijuana, and evidence of drug use. No police report filed.”

  I stood in front of the panel.

  “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

  Part of me wanted to joke about the bong being a water sculpture, but even I wasn’t dumb enough to make a bad joke right then. “I promise it was a one time lapse in good judgment and I won’t do it again?”

  “Sounds like a question, not a statement,” The woman who wasn’t Jo said.

  “It was a statement.” I straightened my tie. “I realize I broke a campus rule. I promise not to do it again.”

  “I don’t see a note if the bong was confiscated. Is it still in your possession?” The guy on the end of the row glowered at me. He sat too close to Jo. Way too close. He needed to scoot his chair about two feet to the left.

  I nodded. I hadn’t thought to get rid of it, or my pipes. “It’ll be gone by the end of the day. I can give it to you if you want it.”

  He jerked back like I offered to gift him a snake. “It should be destroyed, not passed along to someone else.”

  The thought of Gandalf being destroyed bummed me out. I’d leave it with Roger if I had to. At least until the end of the year.

  I looked to Jo for support. We’d smoked pot together, so I knew she wasn’t a complete prude. I wouldn’t implicate her or get her in trouble.

  She took notes and focused on the papers in front of her.

  “It’s a first time offense. I think a warning is warranted.” I recognized the guy who spoke as a friend of Roger’s. We’d never been introduced, but I swore I’d seen him hanging around Roger’s room. Or with him in the CAB. I knew I had an ally in him.

  The group told me to take a seat while they deliberated. For the first time, Jo spoke to the group. Because she whispered, I couldn’t hear what she said, but she gestured a lot to the paper in front of her.

  The whole school was liberal and tended to look the other way about non-violent crime on campus. Sure, pot was illegal, but it wasn’t like I damaged property or attacked anyone. Hell, people got high on LSD and mushrooms in the woods on campus.

  My stomach roiled over the memory of Saturday night’s fight. At least I hadn’t been charged with assault.

  “Benton?” Roger’s friend called me to the front of the room.

  “Yes, sir?” I straightened my back and stood up straighter.

  “The judicial board has decided to give you a warning and require you to attend an all-day seminar about drug abuse at the health center before the end of the quarter. You’ll be on probation. No more infractions. Got it?”

  I nodded. “Thank you.” I directed the words to Jo.

  She frowned and shook her head, disappointment clear in her expression.

  I’d gotten lucky this time.

  As I left the room, I vowed to make some changes.

  Jo Asotin, 19

  Legal and Public Admin

  Sophomore

  Have you ever been in love?

  If you asked me in high school, I would have said yes. Without a doubt.

  Now I don’t know.

  I had terrible taste in guys.

  I wasn’t one of those girls who liked bad boys or weirdos. No, I liked the normal guys. Great on paper. Nice to my parents. Then turned into jerks. Those kinds of guys.

  My high school boyfriend had been beloved by my parents. Football player, track all-star, church youth group leader, lived in the right neighborhood, and had professional, white collar type parents. Everything they wanted in a boyfriend for me.

  Also, one of the most boring humans on the planet.

  No ambition. No drive to be more or do more with his life. He’d be happy to buy a house in the same neighborhood and send his kids to the same schools we went to.

  Back then, I didn’t know any better. He fit with every stereotype I’d been taught to want.

  Not that there’s anything wrong with that thinking.

  Unless you wanted more.

  I wanted more.

  Did I love him? In a way, I guessed I did.

  Before I knew what love—real love—felt like.

  Love was a river that swept me away, pulling me under and tossing me around rapids and rocks. Slowing down in quiet spots of peace before rushing on again, taking me with it. I resisted and clung to the safety of the bank. Worked against the current as hard as I could, thinking I could outpace it.

  I was a fool.

  The river changed how I saw the world. It’s brought me to places I never imagined. Showed me what really could be possible when I gave in and allowed it to support me, carry me.

  I thought I knew what love was before. I didn’t know anything.

  “Why” ~ Annie Lennox

  I RETURNED FROM winter break to find an envelope with my name on it pinned to my bulletin board. After recognizing the scrawling handwriting as Ben’s from statistics, I tossed it in the trash.

  “Some guy named Ben left you a message on the answering machine. I saved it for you.” My sophomore roommate Jenni meant to be nice, but she was clueless.

  “Is his the only message on the machine?”

  “Should be.”

  The machine displayed a steady “1” which meant all the messages had been heard.

  I hit “delete all” and listened while the tape rewound itself.

  She gaspe
d. “You’re not even going to listen to it? He sounded really cute and nice. He asked if you’d call him back because he owes you a dinner in Seattle. He even said please.”

  I cut her off. “Not interested in hearing what he had to say. If I were, I would’ve played the message.”

  “Oh, wow. You’re totally serious.” She blinked her big brown eyes at me. Not the smartest doll in the house.

  “I am. In fact, if he calls again, and you pick up, can you tell him to save his energy for someone who cares?

  “That’s really mean, Jo. What did he ever do to make you hate him?”

  I couldn’t tell her the truth. Or about the judicial hearing I had to sit through after his RA caught him with a giant bong in his room.

  “Nothing. He’s not a bad guy.”

  “Is he single?” Her brows lifted in excitement. “He sounded super cute on the message. Where’s he from? What’s his major? Is he tall? His voice sounded tall.”

  “How does a voice sound tall? Height has no correlation to vocal chords.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I guess he’s cute. Not super tall, but above average.” I kept my tone disinterested.

  Cute? Understatement of the decade. Benton Grant wasn’t cute—puppies and kittens and baby tigers were cute. Ben was handsome. Classic handsome with a straight nose and strong jaw. A drawing of Ben illustrated the dictionary entry for “good breeding.”

  Cocky as hell, too, but he had the looks to back up the attitude. And rich. Which meant he’d also been spoiled, arrogant, and entitled.

  No way would I tell Jenni any of that. If I had, she would have sat by the phone waiting for him to call back.

  Jenni dating Ben would’ve been a very bad idea. She was nice enough and pretty, if he liked big hair and big boobs.

  No, there was one reason and one reason only it would’ve been the worst idea ever. Against my better sense, and my vow only to fall in love with the perfect man, I had fallen in love with him.

  Ridiculously, stupidly in love.

  My grandmother in Spokane always told me it was as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it was to fall in love with a poor one.

  She left out the part about being rich didn’t equal perfect.

  Ben was far from perfect.

  He was too busy rebelling and flipping the bird at some perceived authority oppressing him. An angry white boy who didn’t want to take responsibility for his own actions.

  He was a spoiled child.

  He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

  The worst part? I saw glimpses of the amazing version of himself he tamped down with pot and bravado.

  That man had my heart.

  And he didn’t even realize it.

  “Think of You” ~ Guns N’ Roses

  THE ONE GOOD thing to come out of knowing Ben had been meeting his friends. After going to Gil’s gig, we’d met up for other parties and shows, and spent hours hanging out in each other’s rooms. I felt closest to Maggie and Lizzy. Selah, less so. Knowing she and Ben had hooked up made things awkward for me.

  Because I was jealous.

  Not of her specifically. She didn’t seem his type. At all. Too much of a man-eater. Although, I could see the appeal. She wasn’t the kind of girl he could introduce to his parents. She fit perfectly in his whole rebellion phase.

  No, I felt jealous because she knew what it was like to kiss him. I’d spent so much time wondering what it would be like to kiss him it was embarrassing. Or would be if anyone knew.

  Maggie, Lizzy, and I strolled across the red square at the heart of campus in the middle of a rare sunny January day.

  Up ahead I spied Jenni walking in our direction. I waved at her.

  “Maggie!” a guy yelled from the other side of the quad, near the library. I froze.

  Maggie stopped and waved behind me. From the corner of my eye I spied Ben jogging toward us. From the opposite direction, Jenni made a beeline for our group.

  Wonderful. I stepped away, hesitating while I thought up an excuse. “I forgot something in the library.”

  I paused too long.

  Ben stepped next to me, slightly out of breath. “Hey. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks.”

  I shrugged.

  “Hi, I’m Jenni. With an ‘i.’” She stuck out her hand to him. “I don’t believe we’ve met, but we’ve spoken on the phone.”

  He gave her a perplexed look.

  “I’m Jo’s roommate.”

  “Oh, right.” His grin caused her to sigh. “I appreciate you taking all my messages for Jo.”

  “You must be Ben.” She grinned back at him, showing all her teeth like a shark. “Jo didn’t tell me how cute you were.”

  If I were standing closer to her, instead of backing away from the group for the safety of the library, I would’ve elbowed her into next week.

  Ben looked at me expectantly. I took another step away from him.

  “Sorry I haven’t called you back. I, um, I’ve been busy with . . .” I exhaled a long breath. “You know, classes and stuff. Beginning of the quarter is madness.” My sentence ended with a high-pitched, awkward laugh.

  A slow, sweet smile spread across his face. “Sure. I understand.”

  Maggie observed us with her head tilted slightly to the side. I’d never talked to her about Ben, but the way she nodded told me she knew something didn’t add up.

  Having had enough, I made a run for it. “Gottagobye!” I mumbled over my shoulder as I jogged away.

  Inside the library, I stuffed my hat into my bag and realized I’d lost a glove. Through the glass doors, I saw Ben bend over and pick up something pink from the concrete. When he turned his head toward the library, I ducked behind a pillar.

  This Cinderella didn’t want to be found by Prince Slacker. No matter how charming he could be.

  “Ben’s really funny. You didn’t tell me he was so funny. Or how cute. I was right about him being cute. And tall. I could tell from his voice.” Jenni babbled on and on about Ben while I tried to read the history of the Supreme Court for class. I should’ve stayed in the library.

  “I didn’t tell you anything about him. That’s probably why I left out the funny part.”

  She scowled at me. “Honestly, something is wrong with you if you don’t think he’s cute and funny.”

  I rested my forehead on my book.

  “If you aren’t remotely interested, then you won’t mind I asked him out for coffee. He’s going to stop by and pick me up in five minutes.”

  A date explained the curling iron and the cloud of Jovan Musk perfume. She had enough Aqua Net in her hair to keep it up for a week.

  “He’s what?” I lifted my head from the desk. No, Ben wasn’t coming to my room. I had to have heard her wrong.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Ooh, he’s early. That’s a good sign he likes me.” She bounced out of her chair and skipped over to the door.

  “Come on in. I need to run to the little girls’ powder room. You can hang out with Jo until I get back.”

  I was alone with Ben in my room.

  Not the way I’d envisioned my evening going. I contemplated leaving again, but he blocked the one exit, unless I leapt out the window. I imagined landing on the shrubs below and decided against it.

  “I have your glove.” He placed it on my desk beside my hand.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, and tossed it in the direction of my bag.

  “Do you want to tell me why you are completely avoiding me this year?”

  “Am I?” I wrapped a lock of hair around my index finger and gently pulled. “We don’t have any classes together or live in the same dorm.”

  With his warm brown eyes, he stared at me, seeing through me.

  At least it felt like he could look inside me from the intensity of his focus.

  “Yes, but we share a social group and have the same friends, yet somehow are never in the same place at the same time. Don’t you
find it odd?”

  I frowned. “Not at all.”

  “You don’t return my calls.”

  “Jenni is really bad about giving me messages.”

  “That’s not what she said.” Of course he’d quizzed her. “I left a note pinned to the board by the door.”

  “Huh. Never saw it.” The role of ice queen served me well. I pointed at my textbook and pile of index cards. “You and Jenni have fun. If you don’t mind I have a test tomorrow . . .” I focused on the book, trying not to listen to him a few feet behind me. I could hear him sigh.

  “Jo, I’m sorry.”

  The door shut behind him.

  An hour later, Jenni stomped back into the room.

  “What a waste of hairspray.” She tossed her bag on her bed.

  “Not as funny and cute as you thought?” I didn’t lift my attention from my notes, but was dying to know more.

  “Oh, he’s both. Totally.”

  “What happened?” I glanced at her without turning my head.

  “All he could do was talk about you.”

  I twisted in my chair and glared at her. “No, he didn’t.”

  “He did. Of course, I did most of the talking, but he kept bringing the conversation back to you. If I asked him something, he’d make it about you.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I think he’s obsessed with you. I told him you weren’t interested. In fact, I repeated the whole line about putting his energy elsewhere.”

  I gaped at her. “You didn’t.” I wouldn’t admit to myself why her telling him what I told her to tell him upset me. It didn’t even make sense to me.

  “I did. You’re welcome.” She picked up the phone and dialed. “Chris? Hey, it’s Jenni. With an ‘i’. Want to hang out? Great. Be over in five.”

  “That was fast.” She amazed me with her ability to bounce back.

  “I told you. This hair is too good to waste.” She reapplied her bright pink lipstick. “Don’t wait up!”

  Left alone, I had zero focus for recalling the names of justices from the sixties and seventies. Instead, I played Guns N’ Roses on my boombox. Loud.