Throwing Love #2 (Throwing Love #2) (2 page)

I had worried that when I walked
inside, all heads would turn to me and that the room would fall silent. There
would be judging stares and looks of pity – I imagined there would even
be a few snickers from people that thought I had set my sights a little too
high by going after Bennett. I probably got exactly what I deserved. This was a
scene I had seen in the movies, oftentimes horror movies.

But that wasn't what happened at
all. Sure there were some looks and a few whispers, but nobody stopped their
life to take a look at mine. We were all in college, after all, and chances
were that my classmates had issues of their own. They were just lucky enough to
not have it be front-page news.

We found a booth in the back and
Candace showed up quickly to the table. She had a guilty, almost sheepish, look
on her face, and I knew instantly that she had spoken to Rebecca about me. My
blood pressure rose instantly and I almost told her to beat it. But the truth
was, it wasn't her fault, either. She probably just thought she was gossiping
about a juicy little tidbit without realizing that it was going to be put in
the paper. Candace wasn't malicious; she just had a big mouth.

“Hey guys...can I get you
something to drink?”

“Sure, a couple of beers would be
great,” Connie said.

I didn't look at Candace at all.
I flipped through the menu pretending I had much more pressing issues to deal
with. As soon as she left to retrieve our beers Connie snorted. “Yep she was
the snitch, for sure.”

“You think so?”

“Don't you?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Poor thing. You could tell she
feels like an ass. She probably thought she was talking to a friend of hers
about the new hot couple in town. She must have died when she saw the paper
today.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I bet. She could
have offered me an apology, though.”

Connie laughed. “I'm sure she's
hoping you don't know. She probably would much rather no one know she talked
about you rather than have to give an embarrassing apology to someone.”

“I don't care. It's the least she
could do after this.”

“Just let it go, Emmi. You're a
million times classier than that girl. You would never do that to someone; she
will have to live with her mistake. You never know, you may get an apology,
after all.”

“We'll see. I'm not holding my
breath, though,” I said laughing.

“Yeah, you might die.”

Candace came back with our beers
still looking as sheepish as ever. We ordered a few cheeseburgers with fries
and she once again fled our table.

“I think she's relieved when she
gets to walk away from the table,” Connie said.

“What a girl,” I commented.

My phone started ringing, and I
began to dig through my purse to retrieve it. I looked at the screen to find
Bennett was calling me.

“Oh God, it's Bennett.” I stared
at the screen as it continued to ring.

“So...are you going to answer
it?”

“Are you kidding me? I'm seething
inside, and he's the cause of it.”

“Now, now,” Connie said laughing.
“You don't actually know that the article is true, remember. He could be just
as innocent in this as you are.”

“I don't care. Even the thought
of talking to him makes me angry. There's no point – besides what am I
going to say? Do I tell him about the article? Or pretend it never happened?
No, I can't do that.”

The phone went silent, and I
hoped I wasn't going to get a voicemail message.

“Well, for all you know, he may
have been calling for that very reason.”

“You think that he knows?”

“I think there's probably a very
good chance he knows. He goes to college, too, Emmi. The fact that he's out of
town means nothing. I guarantee you one of his friends got wind of that and
sent it to him. It's probably on Facebook.”

“Oh God, I didn't even think
about that.”

“Well, you know some idiot was
sure to post that on their page this morning, so I'm afraid it's probably viral
at this point.”

I groaned with frustration. My
day was just getting better and better. Viral! Oh God, there would be no hiding
it from my father. I was doomed – everyone would know about it, not just
college kids. All I wanted was a date! And maybe some kisses! How did this
happen?

And I had slept with him. I put
my head in my hands. What if that got out? I would be doomed for sure. Would
Bennett have told anyone? Isn't that what guys did, brag about their conquests?
If he was using me, then that information was bound to become public
information sooner than I would like. How could I have been so stupid? It was
appalling to me how foolish I had been about the whole situation. Why couldn't
I have just waited until he was signed with someone? Why did I have to go on
that date? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

My phone dinged, notifying me
that I had a voicemail message. I groaned again.

“What am I going to say to him?
Especially if he knows. It's just so embarrassing.”

“I know, Emmi, I know. This whole
thing completely sucks. But I don’t think you should ignore him, even if you
don't see him again. At least give him the benefit of the doubt and hear what
he has to say. He may be able to explain the whole thing and ease your mind.
Wouldn't that be great?”

“Sure. It would also require me
to believe what he has to say and I'm not sure I can at this point.”

I knew I probably shouldn't
assume that Bennett was the jerk the papers were implying that he was, but I
couldn't help it. I was just so angry about the situation and the position I
had put myself in. Besides, what was I going to do about it now? I couldn't possibly
date him when the whole city thought he was using me to rise to the top. No,
thank you. So what was the point in talking to him then? I just didn't see the
point at all. I didn't even want to hash it out with him. Talk about
humiliating, having to discuss whether someone you had slept with was just
using you to get on your father's baseball team. Oh, I just couldn't take it.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

I picked up my phone and looked
at the voicemail message icon. I didn't even want to hear his voice at that
moment. Just forget it. I refused to listen to the voicemail. There was no
point.

Connie looked sadly at me. “Are
you sure that was the right thing to do?”

“It's over, Connie. I just want
to put all this behind me.”

Chapter Three

The cheeseburgers were just the
thing to put me in a better mood – juicy, delicious mouth-watering pieces
of meat with real cheese and a mess of toppings. Yum! It wasn't just the beer
talking, although we had already drank three of them in a short period of time.
That's five times now that Candace had come to our table and not said she was
sorry. The girl needed a lesson in etiquette.

We had blown off our classes for
the day, but it was just one day and hey, I was having a crisis here. Besides
if any of my professors saw the paper that day, they would probably understand
completely. In fact, they would probably be having a beer with me to in support
of my crisis.

I was determined to let beer and
girl talk erase all my worries for the day. I did not want to have to think
about it any longer. I just wanted to forget the whole world for the time being
and the fact that I was the talk of the school that day. Ugh!

It was easier said than done,
however, because even though I wanted to forget the world, Bennett, and the
front cover of the school newspaper, I couldn't do it. I was mortified, yes,
and a little hurt, but I still felt something for Bennett. I would have liked
to see if our relationship, or lack thereof, would have gone anywhere. I wanted
so badly to see where things may have gone with us, but how could I now? That
cover photo had been devastating to me. That kiss had been wonderful and deeply
personal. It was something that should have stayed between us – not
something that people could point and laugh at. Nobody had any idea what was
truly going on in the hearts of the people in that photo and to accuse...it was
just so unforgivable. And there in the middle of it were Bennett and I, and
things were too new too fresh to determine what was the truth at that point. I
really didn't know Bennett at all, so how could I possibly determine whether he
was capable of lying to me?

I couldn't help but think about
his phone call, however, and that voicemail message. What did he say? Was he
apologizing? Asking for forgiveness or had he just been calling to say hello
and tell me that he was thinking of me?

I kept checking my phone
periodically. I wasn't sure why. He didn't call back, nor did he send any
messages. He was probably wondering why I hadn't returned his call by now. He
could be completely confused about the whole situation. But was that really my
problem?

Who was I kidding? I felt
terrible at the thought that he could be just as confused by the situation as I
was. Maybe he wanted to reassure me that everything was going to be okay and I
could trust him. Or maybe he had just called to make sure the rumors weren't
going to ruin his chances with my father.

A message came in and I
practically snatched the phone up. Disappointed, I realized it wasn't Bennett,
just one of my classmates letting me know she got me notes for the class I
missed. I quickly texted her back, thanking her for doing that for me.

“I thought you weren't going to
talk to him?”

I glanced up, embarrassed that
Connie knew me so well. “I know. I'm acting ridiculous, aren't I?”

“Well, if I have to remind you,
it was your decision to never see him again. You broke things off, so why are
you looking at your phone as if you're are wondering why he's not messaging
you?”

“Maybe I should have listened to
that message.”

Connie chuckled, “Yes, maybe you
should have. At least you would have known what he had to say. But you chose
not to and that's probably a good thing. So you need to stop worrying about it.
You have had a rough day, it's okay to have a meltdown – just let it go
for now.”

“What if I'm wrong?”

“I don't know, Emmi, I can't
answer that for you. I have no idea if Bennett is capable of this. I hope he
isn't.”

“I'm so confused.”

“Well, that is exactly why you
need to take a breather. Not to mention you’re currently in the process of
getting drunk. Not exactly the best time to make a phone call. Do you really
want to end up crying on the phone because you're drunk?” She laughed. So did
I, though the thought of that was a little frightening.

“Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Of course I'm right. You need
some time to think and calm down. If at that point you still want to talk to
him, then you can call him back. But right now, I think it would be a mistake.”

I laughed. “Could you imagine if
I called him drunk? God, I might as well end my life at that moment. One minute
he would think I was this charming and beautiful woman, and the next he would
think I was a hot mess. That's not good at all.”

“Nope. It would be an amusing
story to tell me the next day for sure, but probably not worth it.”

“What do you think guys think of
drunk texts?”

Connie smiled. “Well, it depends.
If it's for a booty call, I think they are all over that, unless you’re
sloppy.” We laughed. “If it's just messages sent while you're drunk, I think it
depends on the kind of messages. My ex used to tell me he thought my messages
were super cute and he always knew that I was thinking about him. But this one
guy used to tell me that a girl messaged him all the time when she was drunk and
her messages were so bizarre, he thought she was a candidate to be a stalker
and he just stopped talking to her.”

I burst out laughing. “Seriously?
Wow, yeah I guess it really does matter.”

Connie was probably right.
Becoming more of a fool wasn't exactly what I wanted at that moment. I took
another swig of my beer and ignored my phone.

Chapter Four

The drunker I got, the more I
wanted to listen to that message. What is wrong with me? Why was I so obsessed
with finding out what the message said? I should have been able to let it go,
but I couldn’t. There was a part of me that wanted to know what he had to say,
even if it was bad. Or maybe I just want to hear his voice, I wasn't too sure.
Either way, the more I thought about it and the more I drank, the more I wanted
to not only hear his message, but talk to him. Maybe that was why I shouldn't
listen to the message. If I heard his voice, then I would really be in trouble.
I would want to talk to him, I would call him, and then maybe I would be able
get out of this mess. I had been determined to let him go, to never talk to him
again, to move on with my life and not have to deal with any more rumors. So
why on earth was I still thinking about that voicemail message? I was becoming
obsessed and it was a little embarrassing. Why couldn’t I just move on? Hadn't
I been humiliated enough? Apparently not because all I wanted to do was here
that stupid voicemail message.