Hope for Her (Hope #1) (4 page)

I stopped and thought.

"I don't know, I just know." I jogged to catch up. "All I need is one killer line."

"If she is as special as you say, maybe a cheesy pick-up line isn't going to work, either."

"Not cheesy, cool and confident."

"Yeah, because you are all about cool confidence."

"You're cool and confident." I grabbed Jackson's arm. "Teach me," I said, only half kidding.

"Shut up man." Jackson pushed me away. "Be yourself."

"Dude, that's a terrible idea."

"No, not your ‘I'm Joshua Elijah Griffin, the fourth’ self, but the real you." Jackson stopped. "The guy you were before you realized you could get away with more being the other."

I stopped again and dropped my head.

"She’s going to hate me." The hopeful feeling went away.

"No, she's not." He drapped his arm around my shoulder.

"I have been such a prick to everyone," I said. "How could you possibly still be friends with me?"

"Because I am a loyal bastard," Jackson answered and walked on. "And, I knew you before things got bad. I have a good memory."

Back when I was my mother's joy, as she called me, and not my father's disappointment. Before the drugs and the arrest, Jackson was my friend. It happened in high school, when all of us trust fund babies started to compare trust funds. Not in dollar amounts, but in other ways. I understood my parents’ money gave me a certain status. Most of the kids at my school came from wealthy families, but when we turned sixteen, it started to matter.

I got caught up in it. My dad's wealth put us at the top of the food chain. Except for the year one of President Bush's grandkids attended Brentmore.

Jackson avoided all of it. His goal left no time for stupid shit. I admired his drive—he was determined. He had a great role model. His father was the kind of man you wanted to be like. My father, not so much.

All of us tried outdoing our fathers, and if we fell short, the game changed and we competed to see who pissed them off the most. I usually won that battle, too.

I entered the auditorium classroom and stopped in my tracks. Maybe the world wasn’t against me because there she was, on the top row, next to the aisle. A spot remained opened next to her. I thought about avoiding her and sitting in the first available seat.

Dude, why am I such a pussy around this girl?

I headed up the aisle. I needed to take advantage of this opportunity, or I would never forgive myself.

I reached the end of her row. She peered up at me and bit her top lip. I wanted to grab her by the arm, pull her to me, and bite the same lip. She realized what she was doing and released her lip, dropping her head and staring down at the desk.

I sat down, deciding not to ask. No reason to give her an opportunity to turn me down.

I stared straight ahead but studied her in my peripheral. Her eyes were glued to the blank notebook page that sat in front of her.

She picked up a pen and started writing. She wrote the class and the date. She let out an audible sigh of relief when the professor spoke.

I grinned and took out my notebook.

"A few housekeeping items before we get started today," the professor announced. "We have a few of you joining the class officially off of the wait list. Raise your hand so I can check your name against the official roll."

We both raised our hands along with five others.

"Josh Griffin," I said.

"Carrington Butler."

Carrington; a beautiful name to match her beautiful face. I wouldn't tell her that, it fell right into the cheesy line pile. I angled my body in her direction, hoping my attention would cause her to acknowledge me. It resulted in her leaning as far away from me as possible.

She paid attention to the professor, taking detailed notes. I read them as she wrote, and it hit me.

I could ask her to study.

She seemed smart. Maybe she would appreciate me wanting to keep it academic. I wanted to study something with her, but calculus would have to do for now.

As class ended, I gathered my books, but as I opened my mouth, I heard my name.

"Mr. Griffin, would you please see me before you leave."

What the fuck?

I headed down the aisle. I hoped the professor’s welcome lecture ended before she exited the room.

"Mr. Griffin, I wanted to welcome you to FSU. I met your father once; he is a great man."

"Uh, thanks."

"Listen, if you need any help catching up, please let me know. I'll make sure you have every opportunity to do well in my class."

She headed out the door, and this tool rattled on about a class I could pass in my sleep.

"My office is always open," he continued.

"Great. I appreciate it, but I have to go." I headed out the door, running into the people coming in for the next class.

I ran out the building and scanned the area. I panicked for a minute until I spotted her halfway to the Student union. I took off in a jog, which turned into a sprint when I realized she was heading to the dorms. If she cleared the building, I would lose her.

She turned the corner, but must have stopped because as soon as I rounded the corner, I ran smack dab into her and knocked her on her perfect ass. I tried to catch her before she fell.

"Jeez, what the heck," she said.

Her use of the word
heck
rather than some choice cuss word made me smile.

I leaned over grabbing her arm to help her up, but she pulled her arm away.

"What the fuck?"

I guess she can spit a cuss word depending on her motivation. I liked that, too.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" I held out my hand for her to take it, but she stood up on her own, ignoring my hand.

"I'm fine," she said. She bent over and picked up her backpack.

I stood watching, my eyes fixated on her amazing ass.

"What do you want?" Carrington stood back up and stomped her foot like a child.

Not in the sweet tone I imagined. She narrowed her eyes and she appeared flush. I needed to say something to ease the tension.

"This is going to sound weird, especially since I nearly ran you over, but," here goes, "eventually, I would really like to be your boyfriend."

A tiny hint of a smile escaped the side of her mouth, and I stopped holding my breath.

Yes, the line worked.

"But, for now, can I buy you a coffee?" 

She hesitated before speaking. Her eyes searched my face. I tried my best to seem like a regular guy.

"How do you know I don't have a boyfriend?"

Oh, shit.

"Well, do you?"

"No," she said as she looked down and pushed her hair behind her ear.

Oh, by the way, I was right. Her ears were perfect.

"Cool, how about that coffee?" I headed to the student union praying she would follow me.

When I reached the door, I opened it and stepped to the side and my heart stopped in anticipation. It didn't start again until she walked through. I shuffled to catch up as she headed over to the coffee shop.

She ordered a medium latte, and I order a large coffee, black.

She picked one of the small square tables near the windows. I sat down across from her.

"Carrington Butler, that's a beautiful name." I groaned inside. So much for no cheesy lines. My mind went blank.

"Thank you."

"I saw you the other day, outside Bellamy."

"Yeah," she said and took a sip of her coffee.

"You don't talk much, do you?" I asked.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know." A muscle in my neck started to twitch.

"Okay, why don't you tell me why you're following me?" she said.

"I-"

"Or maybe you want to talk about why you keep dropping weak lines on me?"

"That wasn't a weak line. It was a perfect line."

"No it wasn't."

I couldn't tell if she was messing with me or not.

"I've used it before," I said. I went from nervous to annoyed, picking a fight with her on such a stupid ass topic.

"Oh, yeah, and I thought I was special. How did the line work out for you last time?"

"Are you always this bitchy or do I bring it out of you?"

"Maybe I/m always this bitchy, would that make a difference?"

"No, I still want you," I said. I detected a slight grin; she tried to stop it. I wanted to lean over and kiss that spot on her face, coaxing the smile out of her.

"You don't know me," she said, but her tone warmed my heart. I won her over.

"Well, I'm trying to get to know you."

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"What do you want to know?" she asked. Shy tone disappeared again. If she was trying to annoy me, her defiance only made me think of all the bad things I wanted to do to her.

It was my turn to smile and steer this conversation in a new direction.

"Where are you from?"

"Dallas, Texas."

I paused to see if she would ask me where I was from, but she drank her coffee and waited for me to continue.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"What's your major?"

"English."

Okay, now I was annoyed. Apparently, I insulted her and pissed her off all in a matter of minutes, but I wasn't sure how. I shook my head. The tiny progress of softening her up had faded away. I tried a new tactic.

"My fraternity is having a party tonight, come with me?" She hesitated before answering. "What's wrong, you don't like parties?"

"No, I like parties."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Well, where I come from, a party isn't exactly the best environment for a first date."

"Well—"

"See, taking a girl on a first date to a party means you're not comfortable being alone with her. You're afraid we won't have anything to talk about? You figure at a party, you can avoid those awkward moments of silence and if the date goes south, well, there are other girls right there for you to hook up with so the evening won't be a total waste."

"Okay, then let's—"

"No, let's stick with the party date. It'll be fun. Give me the address, I'll meet you there."

"Are you always like this?"

"You said yourself; bitchy doesn't bother you."

"I'm surprised."

"About what?"

"I don't know. I had this idea of what you would be like."

"Sorry to ruin your fantasy," she said.

I smiled. "No, my fantasy is quite intact, it just went in another direction."

She smiled back and bit her lip again. I stifled a groan before it escaped my lips.

Fuck, she is so sexy.

"So, what time’s the party?"

She gave me her phone number then excused herself. She thanked me for the coffee as she walked off.

I stayed in my seat as my mind raced, playing the conversation back. I glanced around, wondering what the hell just happened.

***

Carrington Olivia Butler

As far as cheesy lines go, the boyfriend line topped the list.

I gave him credit for delivering it with sincerity and the sad, but sweet, hopeful expression warmed me from the inside out.

I watched him as we got coffee. He stood behind me and took every opportunity to touch my lower back or brush up against my arm. He seemed genuine, but he also tried way too hard.

My skeptical side reared its ugly head and when he said I wasn't like he thought, it pissed me off.

I excused myself and headed off to the dorm.

I wanted to get away from him because of the way I acted around him. I spoke without thinking, which I never did. I was the type of person who measured my words and didn't believe in speaking just for the sake of speaking. With him, I babbled on and on. The nerve of him to think I would melt at his feet after a line. It brought out my confrontational side. It made me kind of hot for him, too.

As I entered the dorm, I received a text. I hoped for an apology from Josh, but it was from Jackson. When I read his name, my insides grew warm and all the animosity from a few minutes ago left my body and a giddy calm took its place. I rubbed my chest as I opened his message and started to read.

Jackson:  Party
at 9pm, Phi Kappa Pi House, 444 West Park Avenue. Stop by.

I grinned at the thought of seeing Jackson, but the feeling was short-lived.

(904) 584-2112: Dude. Fuck yeah; I'll be there.

He sent me a freaking group text.

What the hell is with guys at FSU?

I entered my dorm room, thankful for the silence of no roommates. I lay on my bed and curled into a ball facing the wall. My loneliness made a chill set in my bones. My plan for creating a new life for myself wasn't working out as I had planned.

In the two weeks since arriving in Florida, I met two guys. One seemed afraid of me, and the other seemed annoyed with me.

Neither guy seemed in the mood to pursue me. Matt, my high school boyfriend, had noticed me and pursued me.

Maybe Jessica was right. If I wanted a guy, I needed to go after him. The thought made me nauseous. I had limited experience in this arena.

I liked Jackson's confidence, and let's face it, the man had an amazing body. My hormones reacted when I thought of him.

Josh's quiet nature also attracted me, and he was easy to look at, too. The sadness behind his eyes made me want to save him, but at the same time, we jabbed at each other like a couple of boxers.

I have issues; I know.

I wanted them both.

Melinda had gone out with a different guy every night since we arrived on campus with ease. I was a college student. I was allowed to do stupid stuff.

How hard can it be?

I answered Jackson's text message.

Carrington:  Congrats on putting a well-structured English sentence together. Your punctuation was correct, too.

Jackson:  LOL.
Lookin forward to seeing you.

Carrington: I'll try and make it.

Jackson: ☺

I sent Josh a text asking him the details for the party he mentioned. I figured I’d hit both.