Distraction (18 page)

Jarred cocked his brow. "What
'
s with the
questions?"

“He’s dating Elle, and I want his story."

Jarred smiled and shook his head. "Green
'
s cool. I wouldn
'
t worry about
him."

His explanation didn
'
t make me like him any more. I
really wanted Jarred to give me some dirt; give me the excuse I wanted to kick
his ass, but no.

"Fuck a duck,"
Bret
shouted.

"I told you I was going to kick your ass." I
rounded the table. Bret gave me a nice and easy shot at victory. I leaned over,
barely hit the cue ball, and then turned away. I didn
'
t need to look
to know I
'
d made my shot. "I need another beer," I said with
a cocky grin. Bret flipped me off again when I headed downstairs for another
round.

A six pack or so later, I
'
d joined their
fraternity. I asked about the logistics, but Jarred said everything had been
taken care of already. Apparently, my dad had been paying dues. I would
'
ve been more
pissed had I not been fucked up.

Besides, Kellie said she wanted me to join a while back. As
far as me and Kellie went, I didn
'
t know what to do. I didn
'
t quit, ever,
but I didn
'
t think I had it in me to pretend Kellie was who I wanted
anymore.

Thinking back, I hadn
'
t seen her in a while. After
playing another game, I looked around the house, but didn
'
t find her.
Drunk off my ass, and figuring she
'
d gone back to her dorm, I slumped on the floor and passed
out.

Elle

The next day after my Bio test, I felt sure I
'
d aced it, but
the spur of the moment assignment in my journalism class had me on edge.
Luckily, we were allowed to pick our subject. I chose football. Even though I
knew more about the game than most guys, I didn
'
t think my
teacher would appreciate my enthusiasm. Thank goodness tomorrow was Friday. I
'
d have the
weekend to get over the more than likely
crappy grade I
'
d
get today.

As of now, I hoped to walk away with a C. After the first day
of class when I stumbled over my words, Mr. Edwards had been riding me hard.
Every time I turned in a paper, thinking I nailed the assignment, I was sadly
disappointed.

One assignment I thought for sure I
'
d get an A. The
paper focused on children in Africa. I sighted facts on how vaccines were
poorly dispersed among children and families. I added tons of statistics as
well as how the world health organization should push for better health care
facilities in areas where modern diseases weren
'
t obsolete.

He replied with, "Miss Richards, you have failed to display
the heart of this assignment." So, when I wrote my next paper on
government policies and how they affected US citizens, and I made sure to give more
feeling and less facts.

He replied, "Miss Richards, your paper poorly displays
facts and statistics. I found, quite obvious, your own opinion biased this
assignment."

I seriously thought he suffered from a multiple personality
disorder. My small time dream of becoming a journalist faded a little more
every day. At least I didn
'
t have to worry about any of my other classes.

Depressed over my probable low grade point average, I decided
to study. I had an hour of free time and figured the library would be a perfect
place to study in peace. I needed to go over some notes for my psych class
tomorrow, and maybe find a disorder for my journalism teacher. On my way to the
library, I contemplated calling Eric, but changed my mind. I didn
'
t want him
thinking of me as one of those clingy girls.

I walked into the large open space and found an empty table
near a window. I always loved the library, even as a kid. The quiet atmosphere
helped calm me down, especially when my house sounded like a warzone.

I sat my bag on the table, took out my notes, and got to
work. The human mind fascinated me, and thirty minutes in, highlights and pen
marks covered my paper. I glanced at my phone, making sure I had plenty of time
before English class started, when a familiar, deep voice greeted me.

My insides immediately stirred with excitement. Time hadn
'
t calmed the
effect he had over me. I looked up and smiled.

"Hey, Spud. How was class?"

Even after seeing him yesterday, I missed him. But mostly, I
wished we could hang out like we used to.

"Bio was a piece of cake, but Mr. Edwards spur of the
moment assignment...not so much."
I sighed.
"I swear he
has it out for me. I
'
m hoping I can get my GPA up by the end of the semester and
not be summoned to a Kappa standards meeting. How
'
s classes and
football going?"

Right then I heard giggling and noticed some girls across
from me looking our way. The place had been super quiet until Tristan walked
in. Go figure. Their eyes suggestively roamed over his delicious body. I
quickly looked away and focused on Tristan.

"Eh, it
'
s okay. Coach has us practicing more since homecoming is
coming up next week. Iowa’s gonna be a challenge this year." His jaw
clenched.

"What
'
s the deal? I can tell something
'
s up.
" I crossed
my arms, waiting for him to explain.

“I only field a few plays per game and I’m dying to get some
real action." He turned his attention out the window. "I wish things
were different." Sighing, he turned back to me, his face tense.
"Sometimes I
'
d really like the chance to go back and change things, ya
know? Tell people what I really wanted before–" He stopped when his phone
rang.

Damn if my heart didn
'
t betray me along with my nervous
stomach, because I desperately wanted him to finish his sentence. But he said
the wrong name when he answered his phone, and I snapped back to the here and
now.

"That was Kellie," he said. "She
'
s meeting me for
lunch." The look in his eyes showed a mixture of dismay and need, though I
didn
'
t want to venture where I fit into the equation.

“Well, be sure to eat well. You
'
ve got to keep
your strength up for football," I said, turning my attention back to my
colorful notes.

"All right, thanks for the talk. See ya," he
finished, and headed out. As soon as he left, I had an overwhelming urge to
call Eric–clingy or not. I gathered up my stuff and dialed Eric
'
s number on my
way out.

I rushed home the second English class ended. After I called
Eric, I asked if he wanted to hang out later. He agreed, saying he liked a girl
who knew what she wanted and went for it. Oh, if only he knew.

When I walked into my house, I found Alyssa sitting on the
couch with her laptop. I could tell she didn
'
t plan on going
out. She had her hair pulled up in a messy bun, and she
'
d dressed in
sweats. After I declined her offer of pizza, telling her about my date with
Eric, she smiled.

"I
'
m proud of you, Elle." Alyssa pushed herself off the
couch.

"
Thanks, I
'
m pretty proud of me too, actually. Hey, I
'
m gonna jump in
the shower before Eric shows up."

"Okay, and be sure you wear something he won
'
t forget.
" Alyssa
winked at me on her way to the kitchen.

I took a fast shower, blow-dried my hair, and then stared
into my closet with a towel wrapped around me. I could kill Alyssa. Now I didn
'
t know what to
wear. Sexy didn
'
t feel right, cute...maybe? Crap. After fifteen minutes, I
went for the casual look. Alyssa came in, looked me over, and then shrugged her
shoulders.

"What?" I folded my arms across my chest.

"Nothing, you just look," she paused, "like
you."

"That
'
s the point."

"I guess it
'
ll do for tonight."

I rolled my eyes. "I
'
m not even going
to reply. I
'
ll be in the living room." Ugh, friends, but at this
point I didn
'
t care. I
'
d worried long enough over what to wear and I refused to
change.

When I walked into the living room, someone knocked on the
door. I repressed the smile and sudden bundle of nerves and opened the door. I
expected to find a pair of dreamy blue eyes and sandy blond hair. Instead, warm
chocolate eyes, dark, sculpted hair, and a sexy as hell grin greeted me.

"Tristan, what are you doing here?" His grin
widened into a full smile as he shoved a box of hot pizza into my hands.

"I picked up your favorite. I thought we could watch a
movie or something." He moved past me and headed to the kitchen. Stunned,
I closed the door and spun around. My eyes,
on auto pilot
, traveled down
his trim body.

I tried really hard not to notice the subtle increased muscle
tone in his arms, or the way his dark jeans fit tighter in all the right
places. God, I hated how he affected me. I gave myself a mental shake, snapping
my eyes up and away from his backside.

"Uh, Tristan, I have plans already." My voice
shook. "You should
'
ve called."

He turned, and gave me a once over. I
'
d changed from
my comfy T-shirt and jeans to a cute navy sweater and jeans.

"Where
'
s Kellie anyway?" I worked around the tightness in my
throat from saying her name.

"She
'
s out with some friends and said I could hang out with you
tonight." He shrugged his shoulders. "So, I figured a pizza would be
great."

Okay that was shit. My nerves wove with irritation until
another knock on the door came.

"I
'
ll get it," Alyssa said, walking into the living room.
She stopped when she noticed Tristan, and then me holding a box of pizza.
"I thought you were going out with Eric," she said, staring at me.

I knew even without her accusing stare where her thoughts
were. Before Alyssa had a chance to hammer me with questions, I set the box of
pizza on the kitchen counter.

"Go ahead and open the door. I am going out with Eric. I
didn
'
t know Tristan was going to show up." I looked over my
shoulder. Tristan
'
s face turned red, and he balled his fists next to his sides,
making the muscles in his arms bulge. He absolutely needed some new T-shirts,
because the black one he had on looked ready to rip apart from the seams.

With effort, I tore my eyes away from him and back to Alyssa.
"Tristan was given permission to hang out with me, but he just found out I
'
ve made other
plans already."

Alyssa grinned devilishly and practically skipped to open the
front door.

Eric walked in and smiled. "Hey, Elle. You look great."
He scanned the room, no doubt feeling the tension, and shoved his hands in his
pockets. Clearing his throat, he said, "Did I interrupt something? We can
reschedule if–"

Alyssa and I blurted no, while Tristan countered with yes.
Alyssa whipped her head around to Tristan, but I held up my hand, stopping her.

"Eric, I
'
m ready to go. I just need to get my jacket. Tristan, can you
follow me?" I didn
'
t wait to hear either of their replies.

Tristan closed the door as soon as we were alone in my room.
His jaw tensed, while his eyes bore into me. "That was shit. You
'
re just going to
leave me?"

"You should have called me first, and I am not changing
my plans because you were given permission to hang out with me. And while we
'
re at it, what
the hell is all that about?"

My hands found my hips and he laughed, which did not help his
cause. I shook my head. "You know what, it doesn
'
t matter,
Tristan." I let out a breathy laugh. He irritated the crap out of me, but
I let it go, not wanting to fight with him. "Just call me next time to
make sure I don
'
t have anything going on."