This Book Will Change Your Life

by Amanda Weaver

  “Hey.” Jasmine tugs on a long lock of my light brown, all-natural, boring hair. “You’re getting all mopey again. Cut it out.”

  “She’s literally every single thing I’m not,” I say.

  “Which is fine for her. That doesn’t mean there’s a damn thing wrong with you. You’re smart and beautiful and nice. Just because he doesn’t want you doesn’t mean you’re undesirable.”

  “He thinks of me as a kid.”

  Jasmine scoffs. “Then the boy is blind, cute glasses or not, because there’s nothing childish about you. Especially once I’m done with you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jasmine has been so great to me all afternoon. When she came back from class and found me crying my eyes out, she sat next to me and stroked my back until I was finished. Then she pulled me to my feet and marched me to the dining hall for dinner. Now she’s engaged in a makeover, and I get the feeling she’s wanted to do this for a while. Truth is, Jasmine’s always been nice, but I didn’t expect her to save me like this. I mean, sure, we’re friends, but I never really got what she saw in me.

  But now that we’ve been together all afternoon, and I’ve bawled my eyes out in front of her, asking doesn’t seem so terrifying anymore. “Hey, Jasmine?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why me?”

  “Why you what? Why didn’t Ben go for you? Girl, no one has any—”

  “No, why are we friends?”

  Jasmine stops and looks at me. I shake my head. “That sounds wrong. I mean, why are you being so nice to me?”

  She frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, you’re so you. You’re pretty and, God, you’ve got it all figured out. You’re like this confident, celebrity freshman and… Why me?”

  Jasmine’s quiet and my stomach churns. Why did I ask that? Whatever we had going for us as friends I just blew to pieces by drawing attention to it. Looking at me in the mirror, she must be thinking, Why am I friends with this sad, lost little girl?

  Finally, she says, “You know I started dating Sean when I was fifteen, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ve been through a lot. We’ve both changed, and now it’s college, and Sean is like, famous, when he should just be some sophomore. But despite that, he and I are the real thing.”

  I nod. “You totally are. He adores you, though I’m sure the football stuff is hard…”

  “It’s crazy,” she says. “It’s great that I get to go to all these parties and events with him. But here’s the thing: since I’ve been here, not one person has talked to me because I’m me. All these girls want to hang with me and get to know the team or get close to Sean. Can you believe that shit?”

  “Girls talk to you because they’re after Sean?”

  Jasmine rolls her eyes. “You have no idea. I can’t trust anybody.” Then our eyes meet in the mirror. “Except you.”

  My face warms. “Me?”

  “You. From day one, you were just you. You’re so damn serious, and so cute with this thing for Bookstore Boy. On the first day, you didn’t even know who Sean was.”

  “So you like hanging with me because I’m ignorant?”

  “No, that’s why I started hanging with you. It was a relief to know you didn’t want anything from me. But I kept hanging with you because I like you. You’re smart. You’re nice. And you want to be the best you can be. Just like me.”

  I laugh. “I’m nothing like you.” Or Alex for that matter— I’m nothing like these confident girls who know exactly what they want.

  She chuckles and pats my shoulder. “So I know exactly who I want to be, and you’re still figuring it out. So what? The point is we want to be the best.”

  Maybe she has a point. I don’t know what I want to do with myself, but I want to make a difference. I want to be the best me I can be. So does she.

  It wasn’t enough for Ben, but Jasmine likes me just the way I am. And right now, when she’s the only thing holding me together, I’m so grateful for her friendship.

  An hour later, I’m second-guessing our friendship as she drags me up the steps to a huge, ramshackle house in the student ghetto. Chaotic music and voices boom out to the street. Light pours from every window.

  “Are you sure about this?” I murmur, tugging at my shirt. Well, Jasmine’s shirt. She let me wear my dark skinny jeans and my only nice pair of wedge heels, but decided none of my shirts would do and loaned me one of hers. It’s some sort of tight, black, stretchy knit that looks great on me. Even my boobs look better in it, and they aren’t generally much to look at. But now that we’re about to head inside, I feel exposed and awkward.

  “It’ll be fine,” Jasmine says.

  “Whose party is this?”

  She shrugs. “Not sure. Some guy in my humanities class gave me a flyer.”

  I gape at her. “Do we even know a single person here?”

  She puts her arm around me and gently pulls me forward. “We will before the night’s over. Come on! This is just what you need. A little music and a house full of strangers.”

  That sounds awful right now, but I don’t say so.

  “Let’s just have a drink and dance, okay? It’ll be fun.” She tugs me up the wide wooden steps.

  I grimace as I let her lead me inside. I’ll just stay for an hour. One drink.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben

  I’ve been at this damn party for forty-five minutes, and there’s no sign of Alex. She probably didn’t even come, which pisses me the fuck off, and it’s given me way too much time to think about what happened with Hannah earlier today, which isn’t helping.

  I’ve been arguing with myself about it all afternoon. On one hand, she fucking blew up at me like we were dating and she caught me cheating or some shit. We’re friends, sure, but that doesn’t mean she gets to know every part of my life.

  On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly wrong about what happened in her room last Friday—or what almost happened. I freaked out when we almost kissed, but I wanted to do it. Hell, I still kind of wish I had. So maybe that means I’ve been leading her on. I don’t know anymore.

  Maybe this is for the best. Things were getting too complicated. Maybe it’s better that we stop hanging out, although I hate the thought of that. Maybe that makes me selfish. Not that it matters, since like it or not, I’m pretty sure we’re not speaking anymore.

  Maybe I should fuck this stupid party and get drunk at home. Frankly, I’m halfway there, since I’ve been drinking tons of this punch shit they’ve got in red plastic cups just to have something to do. It’s bright red and way too sweet, which means it’s 80 percent grain alcohol, and I’ll regret it in the morning. Oh the fuck well.

  Then I see the swing of Alex’s long, dark hair as she weaves through the crowd. I push past some people until there she is—holding some guy’s hand.

  She spots me at the same moment, and her face lights up. “Hey, Ben! You came.”

  I look from her to the guy she’s with. He’s at least six-two and seriously broad, with perfectly tousled blond hair and a square jaw. He’s wearing a tidy white dress shirt and chinos. Jesus, he reminds me of my brother, Gavin. This is who she wants? No wonder we’ve been talking for a year without a spark. I’m the polar opposite of this guy.

  “Yeah,” I finally say. “I came.”

  She smiles. “This is Chip. Chip, this is Ben. He works at the bookstore across the street from Oasis.”

  Chip tilts his chin up in a vague bro nod. He scarcely registers my presence, which is about right with guys like him. I should know. I grew up with one.

  He kisses Alex’s cheek. “Hey, babe, I’m going to find a drink.”

  Chip heads off toward the kitchen, and Alex watches him go with stars in her eyes. All she’s missing are little birds and hearts circling her damn head.

  She’s never even glanced at me like that. Maybe there’s a reason that nothing’s happened between us all this time.

  Not that it matters no
w. Alex is taken. Out of my reach after I’ve been pursuing her for a year. But that’s bullshit, right? My pursuit, if you can call it that, was always half-assed until today. Why did I suddenly decide to make my move on her? Maybe this wasn’t about Alex at all. Maybe it was about Hannah and that almost-kiss last week.

  Maybe that’s why, standing here, I’m not even pissed. Just tired. Over it. Irritated.

  “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

  She throws me a quick sheepish look and stares after Chip again. So she knew I was into her. She knew what this was about, and yet she still invited me here and played along like…

  Fuck.

  Like I did to Hannah. Not on purpose, granted, but still. Guess I can’t say I don’t deserve this.

  “Yeah, Chip is great,” she says. “After that mess with Brick, it’s great to be with someone with a plan.”

  “Brick?”

  “My ex.” She shakes her head. “I have the worst taste in men. Really, it’s tragic. First there was Brick, then that debacle with Marc.”

  “You were with Marc?”

  She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Marc was just a drunken hookup, but yeah. Never sleep with guys from work. But I’ve finally figured it out with Chip. He’s the one. He’s smart and driven and he knows what he wants.”

  “Yeah, seems like it.”

  I am the biggest idiot on the planet. What the hell did I think I was doing? For all the time we’ve spent hanging out, I clearly know nothing about her life. And here I was buying her jewelry and declaring myself. I’ve been wasting my time and…

  Jesus. Hannah was right, and not only that, I said some really shitty things to her because I thought I was hung up on this girl who is completely oblivious to me. I was a total asshole.

  Alex is still talking, raving on and on about Chip and his MBA program, but I’m barely paying attention. Enough is enough. I have important things to think about. An important person. “Hey, Alex, I’m going to go.”

  She blinks. “But you just got here.”

  “Long day.” I shrug. “I’ll see you around.”

  Before she can stop me, I turn and shove my way through the crowd. More people have shown up. The whole house is packed. The voices, laughter, and pounding music throb in my ears. I get to the front hallway just as Hannah slips between two giant guys and stumbles to a stop in front of me.

  I’ve never been happier to see someone as I am to see her. Everything in me goes light; my chest feels tight and my hands itch to touch her. I don’t know how she’s here, but she’s here. This feeling… This was that look on Alex’s face when she looked at Chip. And I get it.

  God, I’ve been so stupid. She was right in front of me all along.

  Hannah, however, doesn’t look so happy to see me. She scowls. “Oh. It’s you.”

  She looks different. Gorgeous. She’s wearing makeup, her hair is curled, and her shirt— Damn, have her breasts always looked like that? She’s also bleary-eyed and slurring and gripping a plastic red cup like a lifeline.

  “Hey, Hannah,” I say warily. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s a party.” She waves her cup to indicate the mass of bodies around us. Some of the artificially red punch sloshes out on her hand, but she doesn’t notice. “Or wait. Are you asking why I’m not tucked up in bed at home like a good little girl?”

  I roll my eyes. “Cut it out. You know that’s not what I meant.”

  She takes a huge gulp of her drink, eying me over the edge of her cup. “I think that’s exactly what you meant.”

  “How much of that have you had to drink?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Who did you come here with?”

  “Also none of your business.”

  Seriously? She’s got a right to be mad at me, but she doesn’t have to be so damn difficult about it. It’s just a question. “Come on, Hannah. Are you here alone?”

  She laughs bitterly. “No, I came with Jasmine.”

  “Where is she?”

  Hannah waves her cup behind her, not spilling this time, but almost. “In there somewhere. I lost track of her. See, she knows I can take care of myself, because I’m not a child.”

  “Yeah? Well, you’re being a lousy adult right now. Listen—”

  Then some guy walks up behind her and slings his arm over her shoulders. “There you are. You got away from me.” He’s some preppy frat boy, and the way he’s looking at Hannah, like she’s his next meal, twists my stomach.

  “I’m right here.” She throws him a fake bright smile.

  “I found that video I was telling you about. Come on upstairs. My laptop’s up there, and I’ll show you.”

  My vision goes red. Adrenaline floods my system as every warning alarm sounds at once in my head. “Yeah, okay, no fucking way.” I grab her wrist and pull her out from underneath his arm.

  “Hey!” Hannah protests as I pluck her cup out of her hands and deposit it onto a nearby table.

  “What the hell, man?” the douchey dude bro says, stepping toward me. He could probably kick my ass if he wanted to, but he looks drunker than Hannah, so I can handle him if I have to. I hope.

  “Hey, man, the creepy date-rape thing isn’t gonna happen tonight,” I say.

  Hannah shoves at my shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing, Ben?”

  I ignore her, take her by the arm, and turn her toward the door. “Taking you back to your dorm.”

  “What if I don’t want to go?”

  “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you alone with that guy and whatever the fuck he’s planning to try upstairs. I can guarantee he’s not going to show you a funny cat video on YouTube.”

  She’s still protesting, but I’ve got her outside now and down the steps. It’s quieter, and without the noise and the liquor fueling her, the fight goes out of her. She slips her arm out of my grasp.

  “Fine, I’m going. You don’t need to babysit me. I’m sure you have better things to do. Better people to do, too.”

  I ignore the jab. “I’m not letting you walk across campus alone at this time of night.”

  She glowers at me but just turns and stomps off down the sidewalk. I catch up to her in a few strides because she’s wobbly in her heels and so much shorter than me. She ignores me as she types something on her phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “I’m texting Jasmine to let her know I left.”

  “Will she be okay?”

  Hannah shrugs. “Sean was on his way.”

  “Right…Sean.” Jasmine’s linebacker boyfriend would have been handy to have around a few minutes ago when I was staring down Douchebag Doug back there.

  Hannah huffs out a breath and glares at me. “I’ll be okay, too. Seriously, you don’t need to babysit me.”

  “I’m walking you back,” I say stubbornly.

  “I thought you had plans,” she snaps.

  Alex’s tirade about Chip replays in my mind. “Nope. I most definitely do not have plans.”

  She sniffs. “Too bad.”

  I get that she’s mad—and honestly, she has every right to be—but I don’t like Hannah like this. I don’t like that I made her like this.

  “Hannah, can we talk—”

  “No!” She speeds up. “I don’t want to talk about anything. There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “I think there is.”

  “No, there’s not. It’s pretty clear that there is absolutely nothing to talk about.”

  Fine. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I guess I can respect that. I don’t press her further. “Did you finish the book?”

  She barks out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, I did.”

  “What did you think?”

  “Awesome. Brilliant. It changed my life. They all did.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  She shoots a sideways glance at me and then looks back at her feet. She’s taller than usual in those heels, and the angle makes her calves curve diff
erently. Her tight jeans stick to her legs like a second skin and hug her ass like—

  “Sure, it’s a good thing,” she says, snapping me out of my inappropriate ogling. “You pointed me toward some amazing books that changed everything. So yeah, for what it’s worth, thank you.”

  Something twists in my chest— Why is she talking like this is the last time she’s going to see me?

  Maybe because I told her it might be. My words from our fight come back to haunt me. I blew off what we had together and implied she didn’t matter to me. I’m a dick. I thought pursuing Alex was the right thing, but all I did was hurt someone I care about.

  I wish we could go back to how we were. I want her to come into the bookstore full of thoughts and feelings about what she’s read, desperate to tell me all about it. But I fucked everything up, and I have no idea how to get back to that place, or if we even can.

  “Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” I ask to break the silence.

  “Yeah,” she says softly. We’re at the edge of campus now, and she doesn’t sound angry anymore. Tired and sad more like it, but at least she’s not pissed. “My dad is coming to get me tomorrow night. You?”

  She’s not biting my head off, so that’s something, I guess. “Yeah. I’m not driving back until Thursday morning, though. Trying to minimize my time in the cross hairs.” Her eyes flicker to mine because she knows going home sucks for me. But then she just looks away.

  “Are you going to tell your dad about chemistry?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Hannah, I know it’s eating at you, but he sounds really understanding. I’m sure if you just talk to him—”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps with an icy finality. I guess we don’t share like that anymore. I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to discussing this stuff with her. She was the only person I could talk to about my family, and now she’s gone.

  When we get to her dorm, Hannah fumbles through her jean pockets for her key card. It’s no wonder she has trouble getting the card— Those pants are really tight. Not that I’m complaining. She has great legs…

  She finally produces her key card and promptly drops it.