Sorority of Three: Freshman 101 Page 16

  Sawyer had e-mailed me a week ago to ask if I’d help him. Of course, I said yes. I really liked Sawyer. He and Sunny were a great match, and I was glad she’d given him another chance.

  Marie gave my reflection a pointed look in the mirror. “There’s nothing wrong with dating around.”

  “I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. Isn’t that when you’re supposed to be with the one you really care about?”

  “You’re reading too much into it. Just go out and have fun,” Marie huffed, grabbing her coat. “Mike’s waiting downstairs. I have to go. See you tomorrow.”

  “Have fun.”

  The door closed behind her and I glanced at the clock. Ross would be here in less than five minutes. I had to get ready. Since neither of us had a car, Ross and I had agreed to walk to a campus restaurant for a simple dinner. Or so I thought.

  When we walked into the small French bistro, I noticed the fancy linens and the candles glowing from each table.

  “Wow, this place is amazing.”

  “Do ye like it?” He pulled my chair out for me like the gentleman he was, and I sat down onto the soft cushion of the chair.

  “Yes, but…Ross, it’s too much.”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Mum told me that if I met a girl who was…ye know, special, I needed to take her for a proper candlelit dinner.” Even with the soft glow of light reflecting from his face, I could see his cheeks had turned crimson.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Sort of a tradition back home. Candlelight dinner on Valentine’s Day…with your sweetheart, I mean.” He pressed his lips together, looking embarrassed. “It was hard to find a place near campus. I’d almost given up when I found this place.”

  “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

  “I know that. But I wanted to.”

  My stomach churned with discomfort. I was flattered—seriously flattered that he’d gone to all that effort. But when he said “sweetheart,” Trevor popped into my head. Of all the seconds for that to happen! I needed to push him from my thoughts. I had to be in the moment with Ross, to enjoy everything he had done to make our date special. But I knew Trevor would peek in again. Him and his damn picture frame…the gift that stared at me from my desk and made my heart soften every time I did. The simple frame that kept him in my thoughts, almost constantly.

  To distract myself from thoughts of Trevor, I studied the menu. French food was intimidating to me, but I was excited to try it.

  “Do you…um, do you know French?”

  “A little. We’ve gone there on holiday.”

  Of course he did. This nearly perfect Scottish boy with gorgeous eyes and thick curly blond hair also speaks French. Of course.

  “I, um…I’m not sure what to order.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. My nerves were getting the best of me.

  “Anything with fromage is great. That means it’s cheesy.”

  “Okay,” I said, still focusing on the names of dishes written in scrolled calligraphy.

  “I can order for both of us if you want.”

  “Sure. Um…anything with chicken is good. And, um, no shellfish. I’m allergic.”

  “Good to know.” Ross smiled. “Hey, are you all right?”

  “Sure, why?” I panicked. I didn’t want Ross to know about my inner turmoil. Especially when he’d planned such a romantic date.

  “You just seem…I don’t know, distant. Like you’re somewhere else.”

  I took his hand in my own. It was warm, just like Ross’s.

  “I’m here, I promise. Just overwhelmed at how thoughtful you are.”

  “It was nothing, really. I promise. This is how we do it back home. If you want, we can go somewhere else.”

  “Oh my God, no.” I shook my head vigorously, looking him dead in the eye. Right then and there, I told Trevor to get the hell out of my brain. I had to give Ross a chance, so I could see where this could lead. At that moment, I was the only one preventing that from happening. “This is perfect. Seriously. Maybe I’m just nervous.”

  “Well, don’t be. You look beautiful. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be.” He squeezed my hand and we sat quietly for a moment, enjoying the dim glow of the restaurant. Butterflies swarmed my belly. I’d forgotten how attracted I was to Ross. I’d forgotten how drawn to him I really was.

  “Tell me about your family back home. What are they like?”

  “Um, well, Mum and Dad are characters. Always cracking jokes. Mum stays home with all of us. Dad’s an engineer.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Seven.”

  “Seven?”

  “Aye.”

  I loved when Ross said “aye.” It had to be the sexiest thing ever. Maybe Claudia was right…maybe I was all about the accent…all about the “airport love”—the adventure, the mystery behind falling for someone from another part of the world. If that were the case, I was in for a lot of trouble.

  “Are you the oldest? Youngest?”

  “Second oldest. My sister Kathleen is only fifteen months older.”

  “Oh wow. And the youngest?”

  “Mona. She’s in preschool.”

  “Holy crap,” I said, way too loud in the quiet restaurant. Instinctively, my hand covered my mouth in embarrassment.

  Ross chuckled under his breath. “That’s the normal reaction, don’t worry.” He took a sip of his Coke. “What about you? I’m guessing your family is much smaller than mine.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I have one little brother. Gib.”

  “Interesting name.”

  “My mom’s obsessed with John Cusack. There was this movie called The Sure Thing. Have you heard of it?”

  “I’m afraid not.” He shook his head, his brow knitted.

  “Oh. Well, it came out in the eighties, and his character was named Gib. Plus, my name starts with G, too—so that’s how she convinced my dad.”

  “That’s cool. Are you close?”

  “Yeah, he’s a good kid. He’s starting high school next year. I’m nervous for him. He’s kind of a shy kid. Just like me.”

  “I’d say you’re doing just fine.” He winked at me.

  Butterflies. Again. Big-time. Holy crap.

  Normally if a guy winked at me—aside from the Princess Bride–quoting sub shop guy…hmm, wonder how he’s doing?—I found it kind of creepy. But not this time. Ross could make any facial gesture look good. Hell, he could have a nervous tic and I’d probably find it hot.

  “Thanks.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, my own nervous tic.

  “I’m serious. I know you’re a bit shy but, Grace…you’re beautiful. And your personality…well, let’s just say, it’s special. You…you’re special.”

  “Wow. Thanks.”

  “I hope I’m not coming on too strong for ye. I—well, Mum says I can be a little intense.”

  “No, it’s okay. Really. I’m just…not used to it, I guess.”

  “Having a guy be into ye? Have you been dating morons?”

  “To be honest, I don’t really date. Like, at all. Until last semester.”

  “Wow.” His head pulled back and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  Mortified. Completely mortified. Why the hell did you tell him that, Grace? Guys don’t want to date the loser girl with no experience!

  “That explains a lot.”

  “Um…what?”

  What in the hell did that mean? Was he thinking back to our first kiss? Am I a terrible, awkward kisser? Did he put two and two together to realize I’m still a virgin?

  My brain felt like a hamster running on its wheel…round and round I went, trying to figure out what those words meant.

  “Oh God, I—I didn’t mean it like that. Shite.” Ross shook his head, looking down sheepishly at his lap. “I just meant, you know, how uncomfortable you seemed earlier. Like, with the fancy restaurant and such.”

  “Oh…okay.” I felt a little
better, but his “that explains a lot” statement still stung. A lot. Damn it.

  “Grace, really. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I shrugged. “I know. Seriously, it’s fine.”

  Except, it wasn’t. We muddled through the rest of dinner awkwardly, and when we were done, I asked Ross to take me home.

  “Thanks again. That was delicious,” I said with one hand on the door to my building.

  “You’re welcome. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “You too.”

  I knew my words lacked warmth. But I couldn’t stop replaying his words in my head. I couldn’t help wondering if his expectations were more than I could handle. He knew now that I hardly dated, which meant he also knew I was most likely a virgin. “That explains a lot” was such a loaded thing to say. And my inexperienced self was ready to run far, far away.

  Ross took my hands in his and looked into my eyes. “Listen, I know—back at the restaurant. I said something really stupid. You have to know that none of that matters to me. None of it.”

  I wanted to reply, but couldn’t. I stared down at the snow-covered walkway. I bit my bottom lip and nodded, willing myself not to cry.

  “Please tell me I haven’t spoiled everything.”

  “I—”

  “Damn it.” He gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he looked away from me. “If you knew me better, you’d know I meant nothing by it.”

  “Huh?”

  That was all I could come up with. Brilliant.

  “I haven’t dated much either. And I’m guessing we have a lot in common…”

  Was he trying to tell me he was a virgin, too? Holy freaking shit.

  “Really?”

  He nodded, his cheeks bright red. “Do you believe me now?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I do.”

  “Good.”

  I squeezed his hands and said, “I’m so sorry that I—I mean, I ruined our date. You were so romantic and I totally ruined it.”

  “No. Don’t worry. In fact, I’m kind of glad it happened.”

  “What? Why?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. Then he burst into laughter. “Sorry, that was a lie. I was trying to make you feel better.”

  “Thanks,” I said, nudging his arm. He pulled me close, placing his hand on the back of my neck. His fingers were so warm, despite the cold February air.

  “May I kiss you?” he asked, his nose brushing against my forehead. The butterflies returned…with a vengeance.

  “Yes.”

  Ross brushed my lips with his. Gently at first, but slowly I allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue caressing mine for the first time. His hand drifted into my hair and instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

  “Wow,” I whispered when we eventually pulled away from each other.

  “May I see you again?”

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  “Good night, Grace.”

  “’Night,” I said, walking into the building, amazed at the chain of events that led to that kiss. I was so lost in thoughts of Ross’s lips that I almost missed Claudia standing right in front of me. If she hadn’t been holding an incredibly large bouquet of flowers, I probably would have walked right into her.

  “Grace,” she said with a laugh. “You okay?”

  “Um…yeah. Just… Yeah, I’m fine.”

  She tilted her head to the side, as if inspecting me. “Date with Ross? How’d it go?”

  “It was great, then it sucked. And then…then it was amazing.”

  “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  “Wait—what are you doing here? Why didn’t you stay at Libby’s?”

  “Class in the morning. Eight o’clock.”

  “Ugh. Those are pretty. Libby?”

  “Yeah,” she said, smelling the roses. “She’s amazing. And Ross?”

  “Yeah…he’s pretty amazing too.”

  “Trevor?”

  Shit. I’d forgotten all about Trevor.

  “Um…” I clenched my teeth, raising my eyebrows, guilt scrawled across my face.

  “Oops, sorry. Don’t worry about that now. Just enjoy your high.”

  But it was too late. I tossed and I turned all night.

  Trevor. Ross. Trevor. Ross.

  The picture frame. The kiss.

  What in the hell was I going to do?

  Chapter 22

  Cursed

  Grace

  February, the Saturday after Valentine’s Day

  I was cursed. Seriously, I have the world’s worst luck. Not about the big things. I was lucky to be a healthy eighteen-year-old who had a loving family and was gaining an exceptional education. But the little things—when it came to the little things, I was absolutely cursed. And after a while, those little things added up, and they became big things.

  Case in point #1: The boy I had a crush on puked on my brand new shoes.

  Case in point #2: Puking in front of the boy who puked on said shoes.

  Case in point #3: Waking up with a horrible case of the flu the morning I was supposed to see said boy for our belated Valentine’s Day date.

  Yep, this morning I woke up with a pounding head, a burning sore throat, and chills running up and down my body. I texted Sunny in a panic, listing my symptoms.

  Two minutes later there was a knock on my door. It took all the energy I had to walk the seven feet to the door to open the lock. When I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. Doctor Sunny had her hair pulled back into a bun, rubber gloves on her hands—probably stolen from bio class—and her nose and mouth were tucked underneath her tie-dyed hoodie.

  “What?” She placed her hands on her hips as I laughed, despite the pain in my throat. “I’m going to take care of you, but there’s no way I’m getting sick. My course load is way too high this semester.”

  “Thanks, I think.” I hobbled back to my bed and crawled into the warmth of the covers. Sunny placed her hand to my forehead and I tried to laugh. “You have gloves on, dork. You can’t get a good feel.”

  “Whatever. A fever is a fever. And you, my friend, have one. No date for you tonight.”

  “Don’t say that,” I whined.

  “I’m serious, Gracie Lou. You need to rest. And you don’t want to get him sick.”

  “I can’t cancel.”

  “You have to cancel.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled over, facing the wall. “I have, like, ten hours before the date. I’ll rally and I’ll be fine.”

  I could feel Sunny rolling her eyes as I stared at the pictures on my wall. Shots taken from simpler days when love triangles were something that, for me, only existed in my favorite books. I never imagined I’d be inside one.

  “We’ll see,” she said. “I’ll grab some vitamins for you. And silver. My mom is all about colloidal silver for stuff like this. I’ll call her to see what else I can give you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You have to drink plenty of water, though, and get lots of rest. Where’s your roommate?”

  “Home for the weekend.”

  “Good. I’m going to open your windows.”

  Shoving my covers down, I sat straight up in bed and glared at her. My head pounded in resistance to my sudden movements.

  “What?” I shrieked. “It’s freezing out there.”

  “Nah, it’s balmy. It’s like thirty today. You need fresh air in your lungs.”

  “Sunny!”

  “I’m serious, Grace. My mom taught me all of this holistic stuff. I can get you better, but you have to listen to me.”

  “Fine, whatever.” Lying back down, I closed my eyes and bundled the covers around my head. The window popped open and gusts of wind poured into my tiny room. It was overwhelming. And cold…so very cold.

  “Drink some water. Take a hot shower and I’ll bring you something to eat. ’Kay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” I saluted her from my pillow.

  “I’ll be back in
thirty.”

  “If I’m not here, I’m probably lying in a heap in the shower stall,” I said, attempting to joke.

  “Not funny.” She shook her head, hands again on her hips. “If you’re not strong enough to shower yet, then don’t. But the steam will help.”

  “Okay. I’ll see…” My voice trailed off and I struggled to swallow. The pain in my throat was multiplying.

  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  The bouquet of flowers called to me from my desk. A dozen gorgeous hot pink roses, all from Trevor. He hadn’t pushed when I told him I couldn’t go out on Valentine’s Day. A lie never left my lips, but I didn’t exactly tell him that I had a date with another guy. I didn’t make up a test or a paper or something academic that would keep me from enjoying a night out with him. I simply told him I’d already made plans and asked if Saturday would be all right. His voice was hesitant when I delivered the news, but he accepted it and we made our belated plans.

  As I replayed all of those details in my head, I knew how it would look if I canceled. If I told Trevor I was sick, he’d assume he was being blown off. And I couldn’t blame him, not one bit. I’d lose my chance with him. Ross and I would be together by default, and I’d torture myself with “what could have been” with Trevor.

  No, I couldn’t let that happen.

  I had to get better.

  I had to see Trevor tonight.

  Adrenaline coursed through me and I threw my covers off, ignoring the woozy feeling that traveled up to my head, climbing out of bed to grab my shower caddy, flip-flops, and bathrobe. I stumbled down the long hallway, steadying myself with the walls. It was like I was drunk, minus anything enjoyable or fun about the experience. I was dizzy, confused, and in more physical pain than I had been in years. Whatever this sickness was, it was brutal.

  The shower was anything but relaxing. The water felt like hot needles stabbing into my skin. The steam clogged my sinuses instead of clearing them and for a moment, I thought I might pass out right there in the stall. Immediately I turned off the water, drying off as I shivered and my stomach turned.

  No.