Unexpected Lover: College Romance Book 1

by Scarlett Archer

  “So, we’ve only really spoken about my love life recently.” I say, crossing my legs and leaning against the back of the sofa. “What about yours?”

  “You know I have no time for that. I’ve got too much to do here.”

  She’s right. She does. She has to earn enough money to keep Sophia housed and fed. Normally, waitress wages wouldn’t even nearly be enough, but she was fortunate to find Jones. Otherwise, I dread to think what would have come of them. She and Sophia deserve so much better, and it hurts to think about how unfair this whole thing is on them.

  I just know that one day, I will be able to relieve the stress. We’ll be able to work together, which means she can spend more time with Sophia and less time worrying about bills and college.

  “I’m just waiting for the right man to walk into the diner and tell me how beautiful I am, and then he’ll whisk me and Sophia away on a lavish holiday.”

  “Ah, yes, the old ‘Pick them up at a diner and take them on vacation’ pick up line. I’ve heard its ninety-nine percent effective. It’s also, interestingly, called kidnapping.”

  We both laugh and talk until I realise that it’s almost ten. I don’t want to leave, not while we’re both so calm and slightly tipsy.

  “We really should make the time to do this more often.” I tell her, putting my empty class on the table, next to the empty bottle.

  “I wish we could, but the more we do it, the quicker we exhaust the cities wine options.” She looks up at the clock and sighs. “You better be going. He might not be awake much longer.”

  I agree, and we hug our goodbyes.

  I walk out into the freezing cold and rub my arms as I head over to his house. I can at least pick up my cardigan while I’m there for the way back, but I’m also so nervous about talking to him. What if he’s angry? What if he’s disappointed that I’ve spent so long lying to him, and he never wants to see me again?

  He might consider lying to be the ultimate betrayal and tell me he hates me. Oh god. I feel sick now, as doubts and fears infect my mind. I almost convince myself to turn back, but I know I have to do it. I have to be honest. I just also have to pray that he’s forgiving.

  Why did I do this? Why am I so stupid? Who even lies about something like that? Such an idiot thing to make up. I didn’t even make myself sound cooler. I made it sound as though I was carefree and unambitious.

  I barely notice as I appear at his apartment door.

  I knock and wait, but no one comes. So, I knock again. And wait again. But no one is home.

  Damn. I’ll have to come back tomorrow.

  I quickly text him, telling him that we need to talk and I head home.

  CHAPTER 08

  Peter sits in his room, pouring over a chemistry text book, when his dad comes into his room without knocking. He slams the book closed and tries to look anything but guilt.

  “You know, in my day, it wasn’t text books that we slammed closed when our parents came into our rooms unannounced.” Joh says, jovially. “What’re you reading.”

  “Just a chemistry book, dad. What’s up?”

  Peter moves his arm over the book, even this there is no way that his father will guess why he’s reading it. For all John knows, it could be part of the curriculum. It’s not lying.

  “We need to head down to the department store to get supplies for the trip.”

  Peter yawns and nods, surprised by how tired he feels. It’s not such a shock, since it’s nine at night, but he can’t help but wonder if the time he spends with Isobel is draining him of energy. They haven’t even seen each other today, but he’s spent a lot of time thinking about her, so that probably plays into it.

  As to why his dad is taking him shopping at nine in the afternoon, that’s a different story altogether.

  When his dad was younger, his mother was quite poor. She used to take them shopping later in the afternoon because it meant that there would be more food in the reductions section. John told Peter that without this, they wouldn’t have been able to eat.

  He’s always counted himself lucky that his parents have done well enough that they never have to worry about going hungry. He’s been so blessed with his parents, even if they are suffocating at times.

  “Come on then, son. We’ve got a lot to buy and an early start.”

  Peter drags himself from his chair and follows his dad down to the car, where Jake and his mom are already waiting. Jake looks as though he’s been dragged against his will, and Josie seems excited by the prospect of going shopping.

  While they drive, Peter wonders about how his dad will react to the news. Will he be angry? Will he refuse to talk to him or shout? Will he have the guts to say it at all? Or will he cave and not say anything, and continue to live this life where he feels unfulfilled?

  They arrive at the shopping centre, and as they climb out of the car into the mild spring night, Josie grabs Jake’s arm and pulls him into the store.

  “We’re going to the café!” She announces, as though they’re about to go to a theme park.

  Jake looks at Peter, horrified, and Peter winks at him. Even in his tired state, he can still take some pleasure in Jake’s discomfort after last night’s events.

  Peter watches as Jake is pulled inside and dumped into a chair outside the café at the front of the store. Josie runs inside and Jake looks as though he’s going to try and make an escape.

  Peter and John walk inside, and his dad drags him towards the camping gear. A plethora of tents, walking sticks, fishing rods and camping chairs adorn the walls, along with so many more unnecessary things that Peter can’t even name.

  His dad begins to browse, commenting on things as he inspects them. Peter dutifully follows behind him saying ‘Yeah, I agree’ to everything his dad says. His dad pulls a tent down and turns over the box in his hand, scrutinising the pictures and diagrams.

  “What do you think? It’s not too heavy, won’t be too bulky for the walk, waterproof. Looks good.”

  “Yeah, I agree.”

  His dad nods in approval and puts it inside their shopping cart. Next, he begins to look for sleeping bags and a cooler box. In John’s own words ‘we can eat off nature, but there ain’t no point in camping without beer on hand’. This always seemed like a great idea to Peter when he was younger. His dad didn’t mind him drinking on camping trips, because ‘there is no drinking age in nature’, but now it’s more of a drag. The box is always too heavy and a nuisance to the entire walk. It’s only worth it because they can drink away their problems when they get to the top.

  “This one looks sturdy, and can definitely hold a fair few beers. What do you think?” John asks, as he holds the cooler out for Peter to inspect.

  “Yeah, looks good.”

  Again, John nods. Luckily, he hasn’t picked up on Peter’s indifference. He just can’t seem to muster the energy to act interested. All he wants right now is his bed and Isobel. And after tomorrow, he’ll have either for a week. He is not looking forward to that.

  “Right, I think that’s us set, son. Let’s get to the counter and save poor Jake from your mother.”

  Peter has to blink sleepiness from his eyes as he walks with his dad to the tills. They scan all the items, and Peter waits at the other end, loading the cart with each item, and dreading the walk more and more as the cart fills inexplicably high.

  Peter pushes the cart towards the car while John goes to collect Josie and Jake from the café. He loads the car and climbs in the back, with his head against the door. He feels too drowsy. Too sleepy. Why can’t he just have his bed with him all the time.

  They begin to drive home and his eyes begin to droop, despite his best efforts to stay awake. His body jolts as his mind tries to shock him awake, but it’s doing little to help.

  He’s almost completely asleep when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He rights his head and pulls his phone out.

  We need to talk. I’ll be over tomorrow, hopefully before you leave. See you soon. Xoxox.


  This wakes Peter up, like splash of cold water to his face.

  I think we’re leaving at 9am. Don’t worry if you can’t make it. He replies, hastily.

  What on earth does she want to talk about, he wanders. Has he done something wrong? Did he say something to upset? Was the dinner too much for her to bear? Had she decided he isn’t worth all that hassle?

  He has his mind taken off of Isobel when they park up and they all unload the car, piling it into the hallway of his apartment. Once they car is empty, Peter excuses himself to his room, where he falls onto his bed and almost instantly passes out.

  He finds himself standing in a room. It’s empty, except for himself. The walls and floor and ceiling are all white, and there are no doors or windows. It’s basically a box. He looks around, strangely unnerved by it all. He sits on the floor and thinks about the room and what it might be.

  He thinks about what he wants the room to be, but nothing changes. He thinks about who he wants to be and suddenly a quiet buzzing fills the room.

  Do I want to study chemistry? He asks himself?

  A loud ‘pop’ bursts around the room and a door appears on his left.

  Do I want to study medicine?

  Another pop, another door appears, but this time it is on the right.

  Do I want to stay with Isobel?

  This time there is no ‘pop’, but instead a slamming door. He doesn’t look around quick enough to see which door slammed, but he has his suspicions. He has wondered whether changing his degree will affect his time with Isobel. Obviously, it’s not such a stretch for him to assume that they could stay together in a long-distance relationship, but is that such a good idea, after knowing each other for mere days?

  One of the doors slams again, and he can’t see which, if even either of them are slamming. Maybe it’s both, or maybe there is a third door. A door that will give him everything he wants.

  Is there a way to change my degree and stay with Isobel? He asks, feeling increasingly hopeful.

  Maybe this room will be the answer he needs. Maybe this room will help him to truly understand how he can control life to steer him in the direction of all the things he wants and needs.

  The room begins to glow, and it becomes impossibly bright. He tries to squint through the blinding lights, and a shadow appears ahead of him. He reaches out for it, hoping that it is Isobel, coming to save him.

  Instead, the shadow grabs his shoulder and shakes him roughly, screaming in his ear.

  “Wake up, Peter.”

  Peter’s eyes fly open and once his eyes have adjusted to the room, he sees his dad standing over him.

  “Dad?” he croaks.

  “Peter, I am your father.” John throws his head back and barks a laugh. “We’ve got to get packing, son. We’ve only got a few hours until we need to head off, and we need to make sure we have everything. So, get up and shower. Your mother has cooked the breakfast of kings.”

  Peter groans, but does as he is told. There’s no point in getting on his dad’s bad side today. They can’t spend a whole week in the middle of nowhere, giving each other the silent treatment. Not that John is like that, but Peter never wants to test his limits.

  A man who is that happy so early in the morning is clearly unstable, and Peter never knows when he’ll snap.

  He moves into the bathroom and takes a long shower, knowing that he’s not going to have the luxury of this for an entire week. Showers are maybe one of the things he misses most when he’s camping. He hates feeling and smelling dirty. He has to pack wet wipes each time they go, just to make sure that he has some kind of wash while he’s there.

  Once he finishes showering, he gets dressed and seats himself at the kitchen table, where his mother has made him a large breakfast of scrambled egg, bacon and toast. He looks around at the room, where all of their gear is spread out, ready to be packed, and he slowly eats the food.

  It’s barely seven in the morning. It won’t take them two hours to pack. Why didn’t his dad just let him sleep?

  “Come on, champ. We have an hour until we need to head off.” John says, as he packs his hiking backpack.

  “Wait, what?” Peter asks, his mouth filled with egg.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full!” Josie cries, disgusted.

  “We’re leaving at eight. I thought I told you.” John replies, without looking up.

  “No, you said nine!”

  “Well, I meant eight.”

  Peter gives a heavy sigh of annoyance and pulls his phone from his pocket, while still shoveling food into his mouth.

  We’re leaving at eight. Sorry. He texts Isobel. He can only hop she’s awake, otherwise she will have to wait until he comes home.

  He finishes his food and moves from the table to his dad.

  “What do you need me to do?” He asks, looking around at everything.

  There’s too much stuff, and he can’t figure out where to start.

  “First, you need to pack your backpack. And then you can help here.”

  Peter nods and goes into his room where he begins to search his wardrobe for clothes that are appropriate for the outdoors. He pulls his hiking boots from the back and places them by his door. He grabs t-shirts, jogging bottoms as he begins to worry about what Isobel wants to talk to him about.

  He’s worried that she’s having second thoughts about the relationship, or if she knows that he might have to move away if he wants to study chemistry. Maybe she’s just coming by to pick up her cardigan, but even he knows that that’s a little optimistic. She definitely said talk.

  Just thinking about it makes him feel slightly nauseous. They’ve barely even started, and yet, he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it to end. He’s really enjoyed the time that they’ve spent together, and he wishes that they had met earlier, so that they could have spent longer getting to know each other.

  He knows it’s too early to even suggest something, but he’s not sure if it’s too ludicrous to say that he loves her. He won’t say it to her face, because it might send her running, but her really does think that he feels that way.

  It seems inconceivable that just a few days ago, he was heading down to the bar to try and ease his boredom, and he happened upon Isobel. It’s just ridiculous that something so basic and dull turned into something so complex and exciting. He hopes she feels the same way about it all, though she’s still not admitted that she’s a college student, so he wonders whether that is her way of saying she doesn’t intend to take the relationship seriously.

  Or, maybe that’s what she wants to talk about. She may be coming over to tell him that she had been lying. He doesn’t judge her for it, and he has his suspicions as to why she was doing it, but he’s curious to hear the whole thing. His biggest question is whether she knows that he knows, or if she truly doesn’t recognize him.

  That will definitely be an interesting revelation. He’s not sure if he even wants to ask, in case she didn’t realize and she might feel guilty. He doesn’t want her to feel guilty about it at all.

  “Peter, are you almost done?” John shouts from the kitchen.

  Peter looks down at his empty bag and quickly shoves all of his clothes inside. He looks around his room, wondering if there is anything else he needs, and his eyes fall on the top drawer of his desk.

  He opens it up and pulls out all of his acceptance letters. He decides to put them in his bag, since it will provide materials for his explanation when he finally talks to his dad.

  He’s really glad that Isobel is supporting him in his endeavours, but he’s truly worried that it’ll be the end of them.

  “Yeah, dad. I’m done.” Peter hoists the bag onto one shoulder and he turns his light off as he leaves his room.

  He drops the bag on the floor in the kitchen and notices that his dad has managed to cut down the amount of stuff their taking into two packs. One for each of them, no doubt. Two packs and one huge cooler filled with beer. Peter tries to lift it, but he almost pulls his arm out of
his socket.

  “Is this all necessary dad?” He asks, hoping they can lighten the load somewhat.

  “Don’t worry son. Since you’re old enough to drink, I packed extra beer and realised it was too heavy for us to carry. So, I got us this!” John produces a foldable box trolley, the kid they use in labor jobs for moving heavy boxes around.

  “That should work out well.” Peter says, nodding.

  ****

  I wake up at seven thirty and notice that I have a text on my phone. I open it up and almost jump from my bed.