She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) (2 page)

Wow
. Even if she’s not looking for Broadway or the Rockettes, she must be a performer. Most likely a dancer. I have a history with dancers and know the type—all thin and overconfident.

“Well, then Ben’s a lucky guy.” I mirror her stare. I haven’t met Ben, but I can’t help resenting him already.

While Juliet holds my gaze, I shift in the doorway and run through the 2001 Yankees again.
Jeter, O’Neill, Williams, Martinez
…

The silence hangs between us, but she grins at my comment. I’m never shy around women, and in general they seem to like me. But something about Juliet—her face, those lips, her
attitude
—as she stands there and waits for me to flounder intrigues and unsettles me at the same time.

I search her face, hoping to distract myself by finding a flaw to focus on but I fail miserably.
I concede, Yoga Hottie. You win.
I blurt, “I followed you off the train,” like a creeper, and mentally slam my palm into my forehead.

She flips her hair and reaches out to pinch my arm. “You should have caught up and walked with me, Train Boy.” Her eyes land on my mouth.
Damn.

“Do you want to come in?” I push the door open further. I anticipate she’ll say no but, roommate’s girl or not, I’m hoping for a yes. I’ve stumbled off the no-women-wagon in less than twenty-four hours
. Great job, Chase. Great show of self-control.

Lucky for my NLP, Juliet ignores my invitation, laughs, and shakes her head as she turns to walk down the hallway. “Tell Ben I stopped by?”

“Sure,” I say and silently thank the inventor of yoga pants as I watch her ass bounce down the hallway. Now I’m more than certain by the way she prances away that she’s a dancer. “Nice to meet you, Juliet. You need a map to find room one?”

She spins around and winks. “I think I’ll be okay.” She continues walking backward down the hallway, watching me watch her. I don’t move until she disappears into her room.

It’s only Day One and already my life is changed forever
.

Chapter Two

Juliet

I text Ben again.

Where are you? Met your roomie.

Train-boy-slash-Chase is movie star hot. I couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness of the train station, but in the light of day they’re blue—so deeply blue they’re almost purple. I sigh as I picture him—that tall frame, all the thick black hair, the deep, sexy voice and those kissable lips. Too bad he’s completely full of himself, leering at me like I’m a piece of meat and he’s ready for dinner. Ben never leers. Still, Chase is something to look at for sure.

I wonder if all the guys here are hot, or if it’s just my hormones in overdrive at the thought of living down the hall from Ben. Either way, I’ll have to adapt to looking at Chase since I'll be spending a lot of time with Ben in room six.

I glance around the mess in my room, wondering when my own roommate will arrive. I’m not great with other girls. Boys are predictable. Girls? Not so much. The only girl I’ve ever been close with is Justine. I think of her long dark hair as I twist mine into a clip. The thought of sharing a room with someone besides Justine makes me nervous. I hope I don’t screw up.

Instead of pacing in circles waiting for Ben or my roommate to show, I stretch my arches and bend into a
plié
. The simple movement calms my nerves. I’ve only been away from the
barre
for a few days, and I crave dance—physically and mentally. Now that I’m in New Jersey, the first thing I need to do, besides make Ben love me, is find a drop-in studio. I don’t know where to start, but I do know if I’m not dancing by the end of the week I’ll go crazy.

After stretching and jumping around for a while, I catch my breath and open my laptop to set up my school email. I sort through the university welcome messages and solicitations from campus clubs and find only one that interests me. The subject line reads: “Roommate.” I click it open.

Dear Juliet Anderson, Room 001, Sheridan Hall,

Please be advised that your roommate will not be moving into the dormitory until later this week.

Thank you and have a nice day.

Signed,

Dean of Students

I sigh and shut the laptop.
I guess I’ll be on my own for a while.

Right now, I need Ben more than ever. After all, he’d been here for weeks for football practice and probably already knew a ton of people. He can show me around, and I’ll make friends with his friends, and everything will be perfect here in New Jersey.

Not only had I managed to follow him to the university, but I’d talked myself into his dorm, too. Sometimes I wonder why I’m not an actress instead of a dancer. My performance for the University Housing Department was Oscar-worthy. Now, the pieces are all set. We’re together, out of Pennsylvania, out of high school. All that’s left to do is make Ben love me a little bit more.

As if on cue, my phone chimes with Ben’s special ringtone. I read the text:

Stuck at practice. Dinner tonight?

I smile and text him back.

Of course. See you later
.
<3

When the hall quiets, I check myself in the mirror. I unclip the bun and let my hair fall into the ponytail,
looks fine
, but my outfit feels dusty and dirty from the heat and my impromptu ballet practice. I quickly freshen up my makeup and throw on a pair of jeans. In an attempt to look casual but cute, I wiggle into my NJU tee shirt and slide on my flip-flops.
First impressions are everything, so they say
.

I venture out of my room into the empty hallway. Sounds of muffled voices, hammering, drawers opening and closing, ringtones and music greet me from the neighboring rooms. There are four doors between Ben’s room and mine, and I want to investigate everyone. I start next door at room two and meet Winston and Rodrigo. They’re busy organizing their various computers and electronic devices and invite me to the party they’re planning for tonight—a get-to-know-you type thing. They seem nice enough—a bit nerdy, maybe. The only real weirdness is when they tell me I look like some Japanese anime character called Kiki-mo. I don’t know who or what a Kiki-mo is, so I’m not sure whether to be flattered or annoyed.

Room three’s girls are going to be a problem. Maggie and Megan are both petite blondes. Within seconds, I forget which one is which and am too embarrassed to ask. One is all made up and has a cute little beauty mark near her mouth, and the other looks like she just got back from the gym. Unlike the guys in room two, the girls in room three invite me in and offer me coffee. I decline and give them the details on Winston and Rodrigo’s party.

Beauty Mark jerks her head toward me, her eyes wide. “Winston?”

“I think that’s what he said. The party’s tonight, after the RA meeting. I’ll see you there?” I pull out my phone and check the time.

Beauty Mark tells me she’ll be at the party and rushes out the door. I look at Non-mark for an explanation, but she only shrugs. She agrees to come to the party, too, and I excuse myself.

Music blares from room four, but nobody responds to my knock. Onto room five.

Room five houses Poppy and Darcy, best friends from Boston, who don’t invite me in. I’m fine with that, since their room is a disaster. Garbage bags, food, clothes, and boxes litter the floor. The beds are covered in junk. The smell of weed invades my senses as they talk to me.
Great. Potheads.
I tell them about the party and split before the secondhand high hits.

I refrain from knocking on room six’s door again to flirt with Train Boy Chase.
I have to be on my best behavior for Ben
, I remind myself.

“Ben,” I sigh, leaning against the door to room six. I close my eyes and picture his smile. I can’t wait to get this year started.

             
Chase

Within seconds of meeting Ben, I can tell he’s a nice guy. He shakes my hand, offers me his extra set of sheets, and says, “Hope you don’t mind I took this side of the room.” I could care less which side of the room I’m on. Still, it’s cool he thought to mention it.

Ben pulls off his sweaty jersey as he tells me about his Phys Ed major, football, and his weeks of practice. He’s built like a house—tall, like me, but heavier and more muscular. His legs look like tree trunks. He’d mentioned via text that he’s a quarterback. I’m more of a baseball guy and don’t know much about football, but to me he looks too bulky to be a quarterback.
So this is the object of Juliet’s affection
.

He pushes his hair off his face, and I glimpse an impressive scar over his eye.

“Cleat to the face,” he says, rubbing his forehead.

I grimace. “Ouch.”

As he rummages through his stuff and I prep for room two’s party, Ben tells me about his mother (who’d packed him food along with that extra set of sheets), his father (a lawyer), and his four older brothers (his best friends). He asks me about growing up in the city. When he starts with high school stories, I deflect the conversation. I don’t want him to think I’m a freak before he has a chance to know me.

Instead, I use the opportunity to ask about Juliet.

“Oh, dude, this super hot chick stopped by looking for you. Juliet? She’s in room one.”

“Down the hall? In Sheridan?”

“Yeah. I figured she was your girlfriend.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, just friends. But we did go to homecoming together.”

“Let me guess, king and queen?”

“You got it.” He points at me and grins.

I’m not surprised. Ben has popularity written all over him—good-looking, nice, friendly. “D-did you guys ever hook up?” In an attempt to hide my interest, I stutter over the question.

“No. She’s something special though.”

Something special pretty much sums it up.
“Cheerleader?” I ask, fishing for information.

“Ballet,” he says.

I knew it.
I picture her twisting her hair into one of those bun things on the top of her head.
God, I love ballerinas.

“We’re gonna go grab dinner if you want to join us,” Ben offers.

“Nah. I’ll let you two catch up. She seemed anxious to see you.”

Ben grabs his shampoo and points it at me. “Advice about Jules? Be nice. She holds a grudge better than anyone I know. Make sure you get on her good side.” As Ben leaves to shower, I picture Juliet and decide all her sides are good.

Ben may be nice, but he’s not so bright if he’d let someone like Juliet slip through his fingers.
He must be into guys
. I chuckle, though I don’t really care about Ben’s sexual preferences. Besides, that would make watching Juliet work her magic all the more entertaining.

I stretch Ben’s extra set of sheets over my mattress, wondering what Juliet will wear to the party. Before long, I’m imagining her long legs wrapped around my waist. I’ve had one conversation with the girl and I can’t wait to see her again.
Man, am I in trouble.

Juliet

Although I’ve been waiting years for Ben, I don’t feel like sitting around waiting for him today, my first day of college. I grab my new swipe card and step into the warm afternoon, heading through the busy parking lot and across the street to the Student Center.

Inside, I walk past a mother wearing an NJU MOM tee shirt telling her daughter that she loves her and to call if she needs anything. I sigh, but it’s not because I’m jealous. My parents always loved Justine more, which I understood. Justine was the good twin. She got the sweet, friendly, calm genes, and I got the crazy, emotional, stubborn ones. My parents never knew what to do with me. When Justine died, they had an excuse to shut me out.

It’s been four years since I’ve felt an inkling of love from my parents. Dad tries, but Mom? Nothing. They gave me a roof to sleep under and food to eat, so I guess I’m grateful for that. But through the years, I’ve learned to accept that I’m not going to get anything else out of them. I’ve learned not to need them that way. All I need is Ben. That’s why I’m here, after all. As long as they financially support me through college, I’ll count on my crazy, emotional, stubborn genes, and my Ben, to survive.

As I stand in the coffee line, I look around at all the overly excited students chatting like they’ve known each other forever. Justine would be one of them, friendly and at ease within hours of arriving. I’d tag along and latch on to whomever she befriended. I wouldn’t even care about making friends if I had Justine. She’d be all the friend I’d need.

Megan,
or is it Maggie?
The one without the beauty mark waves from the front of the line. When I wave back, she gives up her prime spot and joins me at the end. “Do you think it’s always this crowded?” she asks as she looks around.

“Nah. I think it’s just move-in day frenzy,” I answer. “Did you guys run out of K-cups?” I remember she offered me coffee when I visited earlier.

She shakes her head. “Maggie’s unpacking, and she’s on the phone. I thought I’d give her some space.”

Ah-ha! No beauty mark equals Megan.
“Isn’t it crazy how we come to college and all of a sudden we’re expected to live with strangers?”

“It’s different,” she says. “I guess that’s the point.”

“My roommate won’t be here until later in the week. I’m kind of bummed about it.”

We step up in line and she turns to me. “If you get lonely, feel free to come hang in our room.”

I return her smile. “Thanks.”

I pick up the tab for the coffee and we go outside into the grassy fields of the main campus. The skyline of the city shines in the background as the sun sets in an orange sky. We people-watch and sip our coffee, neither of us speaking until we reach the northernmost part of campus.

As we turn back in the direction of Sheridan, I ask, “Are you happy to be away from home?” I’m more than thrilled to be away. For the first time in a long time, I can breathe again.

She sighs and looks up at me. “I miss someone.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.” Her big, blue eyes start to tear, and I don’t know what to do. Usually, I’m the one who needs calming. I decide to be silent and hope she gets over it on her own. She doesn’t though, and when she says, “I miss my dad,” I’m not sure whether to laugh or be jealous. “He’s my best friend.”

“Your dad?” I ask.

She smiles through her tears. “It’s okay. I know it’s dumb. You probably think I’m weird.”

I touch her shoulder. “I don’t think you’re weird. You’re lucky.” I’m tired of thinking about parents, so I change the subject. “Speaking of best friends, mine is in room six.”

Megan smiles and wipes the tears from under her eyes. “Ben told me all about you.”

At the sound of Ben’s name, my heart flutters. “You’ve met him?”