Sorry, Sweetheart. I may be nerdy and quiet, but I don’t let stupid people walk all over me.
Chapter 6
I’m completely exhausted as I head home from work. I cringe when I turn the corner of my hallway, hoping there isn’t another “do not disturb” sign hanging from my door. Thankfully not only is there no sign on the door knob but it’s also locked, indicating that Kayla isn’t even home. Although Kayla is completely harmless and would never hurt a fly, she is dumber than a box of rocks and I would rather listen to nails dragging on a chalkboard then have her chatting my ear off about absolutely nothing at all; at least nothing of importance anyway.
After grabbing my things I take a warm peaceful shower, then I’m back sitting in front of my computer. My stomach is a fluttering mess when I see my Facebook notifications blinking-there is a message from Matt waiting for me. However, when I open it up and see what is says, my stomach drops to the ground and the butterflies that were just going crazy have now been replaced with a big old knot.
From Matt:
I need to ask you a question–call me when you get this 315-555-5436
The wheels in my head have just started moving into overdrive, and the grease that I just washed off my body has been replaced with a nervous sweat. I have no clue what’s so important that he needs to talk to me over the phone, and the idea of it having something to do with the kiss from earlier makes my heart thump at a ridiculous rate. The nerves that are pumping through my body are so intense that I contemplate not calling him at all and acting like I never saw the message. But really, who am I trying to fool? There is no way I’ll ever be able to fall asleep without knowing what he wants. So, with shaky hands, I pull my cellphone out of my backpack and dial the number he gave me.
“Hello?” he answers on the second ring.
Taking a deep breath, I respond, “Is this Matt?”
“Sure is. Is this Leah?” Matt says in a perky tone.
“It is. I just saw your message. What’s up?” I respond as casually as possible.
“I wanted to ask if you’re planning on going to the game this weekend?”
That’s why he needed me to call him; to ask me about the game?
“Um, I don’t know. Probably. Why?” I ask, confused.
“Well, my best friend Collin and his girl Summer are coming down to visit this weekend to watch the game and they’re all about meeting you. I figured they could just tag along with you?”
He’s told them about me?
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”
“Awesome! I feel bad that I’m not going to be able spend much time with them while they’re here, but I’m excited to have them finally meet you.”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”
Even though I’m scared shitless about meeting his friends from home and have no clue what he has told them, or how he refers to me. Worst of all, it’s going to be me...by myself...with them...for the entire football game. There will be no one to help with the awkward silence or to keep the conversation flowing. I’ve never met these people–have no clue about them–and, let’s face it, I’m not a very big people person. I stick to myself and I actually enjoy school, proud of my academic excellence.
All I can picture is having to sit there, for god knows how long, with another jock-like guy and his Barbie girlfriend. However, hearing the excitement and warmth in Matt’s voice when he mentions them, I know that they’re important to him, so I will suck it up and do him this favor, trying to make the best of it.
“Great! Well, I’ll let them know and I’ll keep you posted on the plans as we get closer to the weekend. Is this your cell number?” Matt asks, full of enthusiasm.
“Yup.”
“Perfect, I’ll program it in my phone,” he adds before we each say goodbye and end the call.
Lying in bed, I can’t get comfortable.
Every time I close my eyes, instead of turning off my brain to fall asleep the wheels are turning uncontrollably, picturing and wondering what is going to happen this weekend. I’m so overwhelmed with the series of events that have occurred in the last three days that I can’t wrap my head around what the hell is going on.
It’s been two months since Matt and I met at orientation and up until this week our relationship has been strictly online friends. Then out of nowhere, we’re seeing and talking to each other every day and, as if that’s not enough to make my insides weak, he drops the bomb that his best friend from home is coming to town. His best friend–who he has apparently talked to about me–and I’m supposed to be the welcoming committee for them while they’re here. This may be all fine and dandy if it was just some Joe Shmo, but this is Matt we’re talking about. Tall, brown hair, hazel eyes, muscular, hot, sexy, make my skin tingle, heart throb, Matt. I’m a nobody compared to him, so how am I supposed to be feeling?
Am I looking into this too much? Am I just going to get my heart stomped on and destroyed if I go on believing that I may have a chance, when there’s really no chance in hell that Matt’s heart would ever beat for me? All these questions are flooding my head, and I have no way to get any answers unless I want to confront Matt about it, but that’s another thing that there’s no chance in hell of ever happening. It’s just setting myself up for disaster. At the end of the day, my only option is to let things play out and hope for the best.
Yay.
Chapter 7
Thursday comes and goes with nothing from Matt.
I contemplate doing another running session down at the track during his practice, but the double package of ramen noodles that I ate just before getting that idea is weighing heavy in my gut, so I decide against it. Now, at 8:40 a.m., I’m walking down the stairs of my dorm wondering if I’m going to be greeted by the face that makes my body do weird things or if I’m going to have to make the lonely walk to French class by myself. Up until now walking to class alone has always been the norm for me, but Matt is right, it’s much more fun having someone to walk with.
Especially if that person is jaw-dropping hot.
Knowing that I’m going to be hit with a cold front as soon as I step foot outside, I stop after the last step to zip up my jacket and put my knitted hat on. When I look up and start in the direction of the door, my heart skips a beat. Matt is standing on the other side waiting for me. Instantly my straight face brightens as our eyes connect.
“Mornin’,” Matt greets me as I step outside, wearing his heart-wrenching smile.
“Good morning,” I say, smiling back at him.
“Like the hat. You look cute in it,” he adds, making my cheeks warm by his compliment.
“Thanks. I made it myself.”
“You made that?” he asks, seeming impressed as we start to walk to class together.
“Sure did. My babysitter growing up taught me how to knit. It’s kind of like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it.”
“I want one!” he says excitedly. “Can you make me one?”
I smile. “I suppose I could.”
I start to notice the simple gestures Matt does as we walk to class; placing his hand on my lower back when we walk up the stairs, holding open doors for me to enter first, winking at me periodically-usually after I thank him for something like holding open the door. I wonder if it’s just him being a nice guy or if there is something building between us?
I must admit, this is all foreign to me. I’ve never had a boyfriend and although this is depressing to admit, I’ve never had a boy show interest in me before, at least not that I noticed. I’m kind of going into this whole situation blind, and I’m having a hard time distinguishing the difference between friendly or something more. Of course I’m hoping it’s the latter, but at the same time I still don’t see that it’s possible.
I am me after all.
After taking our seats in class, Matt hands me a folded piece of paper.
“What’s this?” I ask, opening it up.
“It’s my buddy Collin’s cell number and the address to my h
ouse. They’re coming in tonight while I’m at football practice. I know I asked if they could just tag along with you to the game, and I know this is asking a lot, but do you mind keeping them company until I get back?” he says with a weary look.
Holy shit!
I thought I was going to have the rest of today to prepare myself for tomorrow, but it looks like the bomb that he dropped on me Wednesday was just an appetizer for the grenade he’s tossing me today. Nothing like backing me into the corner, asking me this with only two minutes before our class starts, accompanied by the heart stopping, pleading grin plastered on his face.
Not fair.
“Um, yeah. Sure…” I respond, not sounding confident in my answer.
“I’m really sorry to spring this on you at the last minute…”
Yeah, no shit!
“But, no one is going to be there, and I feel bad having them greeted by an empty house,” he continues.
“Yeah, no. It’s fine.” I smile, even though my heart is about to lunge from my chest, and I’m pretty sure it just got ten degrees warmer in here.
“You’re the best,” he adds, cupping my face with his hand and staring into my eyes with a look of appreciation.
My face naturally nestles into his hand as I feel a sense of warmth spread throughout my body. I can’t help the goofy grin that I’m sure is visibly smeared across my face. Having him look at me the way he is, and having his hand on my cheek, makes all my reservations and modesties fly out the door.
Just as he’s about to say something else, the clock strikes nine and in comes Professor Adams greeting us with her usual “Bonjour,” and breaking the moment–or whatever you want to call it–that Matt and I just shared.
Pulling his hand back to his side, he gives me another breathtaking smile before turning his attention to the front of the room where Professor Adams is already getting into today’s lesson. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and try to compose myself so I can actually comprehend today’s lecture.
Because on top of being whatever we are, I am also Matt’s French tutor starting this Sunday.
Although I couldn’t help the nervous knee bouncing throughout class, I did manage to pay attention while still visualizing the intense look that Matt was giving me as he cupped my cheek.
He touched my face!
The butterflies that seem present whenever Matt is around are on full alert when we stand up to leave the classroom. Just as he did on the way here, Matt holds the door open for me while placing his hand on my lower back, allowing me to exit first. If hell hasn’t frozen over yet, it certainly has now because as soon as we step foot in the hallway Matt takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. My body briefly goes numb and my mind goes blank as I stare at our intertwined fingers. Getting a grip on myself I look up at Matt only to find him facing forward, walking like it’s no big deal. Even though I’m silently freaking out inside, I know that right now is not the time nor the place to find out what the hell is going on. I wipe the “holy shit” look from my face and replace it with a smile, walking hand in hand to my next class with Matthew frickin Jacobs by my side.
Reaching my classroom, Matt removes his hand from mine and relocates it to my lower back, kissing my forehead before saying that he’ll see me later. Luckily, the door knob is near to catch my fall as my body finally goes limp, realizing the huge step Matt and I just made. Although I’m a newbie, I know I’m not blind.
No matter the relationship, holding hands equals more than just friends.
Chapter 8
Just as I step out of my last class for the day, I hear my phone chime with a noise I have never heard before, so I stop and sit on a nearby bench to fish my phone out of my bag. Low and behold it says on the screen that I have a text message from the same number that I used to call Matt on the other night. Of course I know what text messaging is, but I’ve never been given a reason to use it. Honestly, the only time my phone ever gets used is when I check in with my parents every Sunday night and the only reason why I carry it around with me is because I promised my mom before I left for school that it would never leave my side in case of an emergency.
To say that my mom had reservations about me moving away and living on my own is a complete understatement. My mom knows that even though I’m kind of a loner I don’t take crap from anyone, which can land me in some sticky situations. Run-ins with stuck-up girls aren’t a foreign thing with me, and it landed me a few detentions during high school, including a suspension.
Even though I graduated at the top of my class and won a few awards for some of the photos that I have taken, I’ve never been the golden child and have quite possibly given my mom every grey hair on her head. With that said, part of the agreement I made with my parents is that if they allowed me to move away from all of the over dramatic girls at home, I would stay out of trouble here. Other than my little mix up with Brynn at work, I have been sticking with my word.
Clicking on the message, it reads,
How I could have forgotten that I’m meeting his friends at his house tonight, I don’t know, but the reminder of it welcomes back the knot I had when he first spoke to me about it.
Shit!
Figuring that I can’t prevent the inevitable, I hit the call button twice. Picking up after just one ring, he greets me with a very warm, “Hey.”
Ignoring the flutters that are invading my chest, I respond with a simple, “Hello.”
“I see you got my message,” he continues.
“I did,” I say with a smile, even though he can’t see me.
“So, are you sure you’re okay with meeting Collin and Summer at my place tonight? I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”
Um, of course it’s going to be awkward! Has he forgotten who he’s talking to?
“No, it’s fine,” I reply instead.
I can almost hear him smiling through the phone before he continues, warming my body to the core.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this. Collin and I have been friends since grade school, so knowing that he and Summer are hangin’ out with you this weekend makes me happier than you will ever know.”
Although him adding that not only am I hanging out with his friends that I don’t know, I’m hanging out with his best friend that he has known since elementary school, scares the living shit out of me. As freaked out as I am, I know it is all worth it when I hear how much it pleases him that I’ll be the one showing them around while he can’t be there. There’s something in his tone and the way he says it that comforts me with happiness.
“It’s really not a problem at all,” I say with assurance.
“Okay, so I just got off the phone with Collin, and he said that they’re gonna be leaving around 5 p.m. It only takes them about forty-five minutes to get here, so they should be at my house no later than quarter to six. Does that work for you?”
Looking at my watch it’s almost 4 p.m. already, giving me less than two hours to gather myself and boost up my confidence before I have to face the music. Even though I wish I had more time, I know I have no choice.
Taking a deep breath, I respond. “Sure. Yeah, that works.”
“Awesome. I stopped at your dorm on the way down to the sports complex and left the key to my room in your mailbox. The front door is always unlocked and my bedroom is the third room on the left on the second floor. No one should be home, but feel free to hangout in my room until they get there or until I get home-whatever you guys want to do.”
Just as I’m about to ask the most important question lingering in my head, he answers it for me.
“I should be home no later than seven.”
One hour and fifteen minutes of awkward entertaining. I can do this!
“And Leah?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the only girl that I’ve ever allowed in my bedroom, so don’t feel grossed out about sitting on my bed,” he adds with a chuckle. “I’ve gotta get going, but I�
�ll see ya later. Thanks again.”
“K, see ya later,” I say before hanging up.
Although I should be booking back to my room in preparation for my fun-filled evening, I’m frozen to the bench and trying to wrap my head around his last statement before he said he had to go.
No girl has ever been in his room until me?
All this time I’ve pictured Matt just like any other athlete–a drunken hornball player. Of course I never wanted to believe that it was true, but it is what it is and he is who he is, so it just seemed as though it should be the reality. But now, hearing him say that this picture I’ve drawn of him is false and he isn’t a perverted, all I want to do is get in your pants kind of guy, my feelings for him have just grown a little stronger.
If that was even possible.
Chapter 9
After changing my clothes three times, I’m back to the outfit I’ve had on all day. I’ve combed my hair and rechecked myself in the mirror at least five times. My heart is racing and my nerves are off the charts as I make my way across campus and over to the football house. Although I’ve never been there before, I know where it is. I may not be much of a party goer, but knowing where all the sport houses are located is almost like a prerequisite for any girl on campus–popular or not.
Just as I planned, it is five-thirty when I finally step foot in the driveway. My stomach drops when I see three cars parked in front. Matt had mentioned that no one should be home since they all have practice, so I’m crossing every finger and toe that they carpool together. Taking a deep breath, I place my hand on the knob, and turn it to walk in.
The house is dark, silent, and looks empty as I take my first few steps past the entrance. In front of me are the stairs and to the left is a large living room with a bunch of mismatched couches and a huge flat screen TV on the wall. Flicking the light switch next to me, I decide now is as good as a time as ever to do a little snooping. Seeing an opening just past the living room, I walk in that direction. Although the house smells like sweaty men, I’m actually quite surprised at how clean it is. Don’t get me wrong. It’s definitely no Better Homes and Garden home, but for a house lived in by a bunch of college boys it’s not all that bad. After walking through the archway just past the living room, I’m greeted with a very large kitchen and eat in area. Again nothing matches and everything looks rather plain, but there’s not a dirty dish or crumb in site.
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