When Joss Met Matt (6 page)

I felt my eyes light up. “Now you have to tell me.”

He frowned, but still held the door for me as we headed for the wintery quad of the Southeast dorms. “Jeez, it's cold,” he hissed. “Wanna get the bus?”

“Hell yeah. But you still have to tell me.”

“She's hot, okay?” He kept his eyes down toward the pavement. “She's really fucking hot.”

It was true, but I couldn't help cringing internally. Her Highness was hotter than I could ever hope to be, and she turned Matt into a shy, awkward mess. I, on the other hand, had never made anyone stammer, or even go for a second, slow look. You try and try to tell yourself that guys are interested in more than a pretty face. It's never true.

When I didn't reply, he said, “I told you you weren't going to like it.”

“Hey, the heart wants what it wants, right?” I paused. “Well, maybe it's not your heart in this case, but you get what I'm saying.”

“Oh come on, give me a little more credit than that.”

“I'm not the one thinking with my—” At the last moment I cut myself off. “My libido.”

He laughed. “Nice recovery.”

“Thanks.”

“And you can't tell me that you're not just as biased
against
her for the way she looks as I'm biased
toward
her.”

I sighed. “I'm sure she's delightful, Matty. I just wish she was a smidge nicer to you.”

“Matty?” he echoed. I'd never called him by a nickname.

“Don't change the subject.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “All right. I wish she was, too.”

“You sound like a battered wife.”

He frowned at me. “You've made your point.”

“I'm just saying—you've given your penis what it wants, maybe it's time to give your soul a little TLC now.”

He choked on a laugh. “You just kinda say whatever you're thinking, don't you?”

“I guess I do.”

“Can you maybe not? About this?”

“All right.” I held up my mittened hands in surrender. “But if you change your mind, I'm available for a reality check any time you'd like.”

“I'll have my secretary make a note.”

Chapter Nine

Seven Years Earlier … Second Semester Freshman Year

Rachel and I were watching
Grey's Anatomy
the next day when Matt tapped on our open door.

“Hey, it's Nacho Bar, you guys in?” he asked.

“I already ate,” Rachel said.

“But it's Nacho Bar,” he protested.

“I'm in,” I said, standing up.

“You're gonna miss the end,” Rachel warned.

“It's
Grey's,
” I said. “They'll save one person, one person will die, and all the main characters will have angst. Fill me in if anything interesting happens.”

Rachel frowned at me. She was into pretty much all the nighttime dramas on television. I could take or leave them.

“I'll be back later,” I told her.

“'Kay.” The commercial break had ended and her attention was back on the screen.

Matt led the way down the stairs and out across the cold quad to the cafeteria entrance. Neither of us had bothered with coats, and the icy wind found every hole in my sweater. I shivered once from the top down when we were safe in the warm entrance.

“You remind me of my dog when you do that,” he told me.

“You remind me of my dog all the time,” I replied. It was kind of true. Matt's eyes were the same shade of brown as Maxine's, my golden retriever.

“Great.” He shook his head and started up the steps to the serving line.

“Nobody else wanted nachos?”

“Guess not.”

“Weird.” I loved Nacho Bar. We got in the short line and waited for our turn to pile our trays high with beans, cheese, olives, and jalapeños.

“Nice work, Joss,” Matt said when we were ready to pay. He was eyeing my heap of food appreciatively.

“I think I would eat nachos every day if I could.”

“I think your guts would rot if you did that.”

I popped a jalapeño in my mouth and shrugged in response.

“What if they were blue?” he asked. “Would you still eat them every day?”

“Nope. But, I wouldn't know what I was missing because I never would have tasted them in the first place.”

He grinned. “I can't believe you'd let your weird prejudice get between you and nachos.”

“Blue food is gross.”

He laughed. “You're so weird.”

The dining hall was sparsely populated, with most of the people seated conveniently next to the TV, where
Grey's Anatomy
was playing. Matt led us to a less crowded area and slid into a booth. I sat across from him and propped my feet against the edge of his seat.

“I have to tell you something,” he said.

“What?” I was intent on my pile of chips, rearranging peppers so that I'd have an adequate taste of heat with each bite.

“Do you remember when you asked me if I'd slept with Courtney?”

“Yeah, and you were all weird about it,” I said and shoveled a well-dressed chip into my mouth.

“Yeah. That's kind of my point. I don't think she remembers it.”

Instantly, I regretted the chip in my mouth. It was hard not to choke as I gasped, “What?”

“She acts like it never happened.”

“You only did it once?”

He looked irritated, but answered, “Yeah. The first time I took her out.”

“So, wait … you've just been … what? Waiting this whole time?”

“Well, we haven't really been alone much since then.”

“What about when you go out?”

“That's it.” He shrugged. “We never even go back to her room, or anything.”

I sat back in amazement. “Wow, Matt …”

He sighed. “I don't think she likes me very much.”

I paused and considered my next move. I didn't think she did either, but I couldn't decide if he was looking for confirmation or reassurance. “Um … why do you say that?”

“Well, my first clue was that I saw her out with some guy named Chuck today.”

“How do you know his name is Chuck?” I asked.

He sighed and looked past me as he answered. I had a feeling this whole thing was pretty embarrassing for him. “She introduced him.”

I wanted to scoot around the table and hug him and try not to laugh at the same time.
Poor guy.
“Wait, just tell me what happened.”

“I went to the Nat to work out after my last class. I was just walking in when I saw her coming out of the locker room. I stopped to say hi, and this guy came out of the men's locker room and stopped by her, too. I was just kind of looking at him, and she goes, ‘Oh, sorry this is Chuck. Chuck this is Matt, he's in my African Studies class.' And I'm like, ‘Hey what's up?' and he just looks at her and says, ‘You ready to go, babe?' ” He repeated what Chuck had said in moron-voice.

“Maybe he's just one of those people who calls people by nicknames,” I tried.

He gave me a pointed look. “I'm not done yet.” He went on to tell me that he'd asked Courtney to talk for a second, and she'd sent Chuck on ahead. “I asked her if she wanted to hang out this weekend, and she just looked at me like I was speaking ancient Greek or something. Then, all she said was, ‘My boyfriend's waiting, Matt. Can we talk about this later?' ”

“Ouch,” I said, feeling a sympathy pain in my heart.

“Yeah. That was the biggest clue.”

“No kidding.”

“Do you think I should call her or something?”

“I think you should probably just find another place to sit in African Studies.”

He sighed.

“What a bitch.”

A slight smile lit his eyes for a moment.

“Seriously, Matt, she's not even worth the effort. All she is is beautiful.”

He sighed again and looked past me, not focusing on anything. “It would have been nice if she just wanted me a little,” he said.

My instinct was to say “Aww,” like he was an awkward puppy, but I thought that might hurt his feelings. “She's just too stupid to know any better.”

He brought his focus back to me and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Now are you gonna eat your nachos or are you just gonna stare at them?”

“Eat 'em.” To demonstrate, he stuffed a heavily weighted chip in his mouth. When he cleared enough to speak, he asked, “So, what's going on with you? You seeing anybody?”

I laughed. “Not since the guy who told me my boobs were too small.”

“Who was that?”

“That guy from Bradley. Jonas.”

“He actually said they were too small?”

“No, it was more like, ‘I usually go for girls with bigger chests, but you're pretty cute.' ”

“On behalf of my gender, I'd like to apologize.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don't. He wasn't sober at the time.”

“Doesn't being drunk usually make people more honest?”

“Yes. And less likeable.”

“For what it's worth, I thought they were very nice.” Matt dropped his gaze to my chest for a second.

There was no way to avoid blushing after that remark.
When in doubt, deflect.
“You're so nice, you're even nice to my tiny little tits.”

He laughed. “Did you seriously just say that?”

“What?” I looked down at my own chest. “I think we can both agree that if I hope to have a future in porn I'm going to need a boob job.”

“I'm just not used to girls who talk like you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? You bring out the crude in me.”

He shook his head. “You're nothing like I expected when I first saw you, I can tell you that.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don't know. Maybe someone who volunteers at a day camp and leads the youth group at church.”

I burst into startled laughter. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Don't be sorry. I like who you are. There's just not a lot of youth group in you.”

“I've been washing dogs at my sister's grooming parlor for three years. You can only wash so many dog butts before you get a little crude.”

He held up two hands. “I don't want to know.”

I grinned. “A little too much youth group in you, perhaps?”

“Hey, I'm the one who taught you about Sorbet Sex. I'm pretty far from Bible study.”

“I guess.” I looked at him through narrowed eyes. “The nice guy bit is just to cover up your black soul, huh?”

He laughed. “I knew you were the right person to bring to Nacho Bar.”

“I always am.” I plucked a jalapeño from the pile and laid it on my tongue with a smile.

When I got back to my room that night, I dug the
Rules for Sorbet Sex
out of my backpack, and added a new item to the list.

I considered taking it downstairs to him right then, but I couldn't decide if he was looking for a reciprocal offer. I tapped my pen on the paper for a moment, and ultimately decided to put it back where I'd found it.

“Any word from Courtney?” I asked him a few days later, as we paused to collect our mail after dinner.

“Nope.” He emphasized the P with a popping sound, and snapped his mailbox shut with unnecessary force.

I tried to organize my face into something neutral. “Are you mad yet?”

“Getting there.”

“Good.”

“You don't like her very much, do you?” he said, looking up from his small pile of mail.

In response, I dropped my backpack from one shoulder and rooted for the rules. When I found it, I offered it to Matt. “I added a new rule.”

He read the list and laughed. “Nice.”

“So, I'm just following the rules.”

“Are you … offering?” He wasn't even looking at me when he asked, stepping out of the way of a group of people coming into the commons.

“I'm … available. Just so you know.” My ears grew hot, even sticking to this non-language. Even with all the dating I'd caught up on in the last few months, I'd never propositioned a guy before. It was kind of exhilarating.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

We fell in step as we crossed the concrete quad to Cole Hall.

“I wish I was way hotter,” I said.

“What? Why?”

“So I could make Her Highness jealous for you.”

Matt laughed again. “You know, Joss, you hide quite a little vindictive side in that cute exterior.”

I tipped my head and gave him a wide-eyed smile. “I'm only thinking of you.”

“Well, I appreciate it.”

“And cute is exactly the problem I'm talking about. I'm like a little chipmunk or something. You'd need a fucking unicorn to make Her Highness jealous.”

“A chipmunk?” he repeated.

“Oh, come on. I've got curly red hair and freckles. Little Orphan Annie never made anyone jealous.”

“It's more reddish-blond,” he countered.

“My mother always said
strawberry
-blond.” I drew out the word and gave an eye roll.

“Whatever.” He opened the door to our dorm building and waved me through. “You don't look like Little Orphan Annie.”

“Thanks.”

“Or a chipmunk.”

I laughed. “Well, that's a relief.”

We paused in the vestibule and Matt met my eyes. “I should probably … finish my Shakespeare paper.”

“By which you mean start it?”

“Right.”

I nodded. “That's what I thought.”

He held up the rules, now folded between two fingers. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

The next week, when I got to African Studies class, I was surprised to find Matt in our usual area of the auditorium. It meant Her Highness would be sitting nearby.

“I thought you were gonna find a new place to sit,” I said.

He shrugged. “She's gonna pretend like nothing happened, I can pretend like nothing happened.” he said.

“Bold.”

It was mid-term day. We were instructed to sit only in the desks with odd numbers so there would be spaces between us, and the T.A. passed out the test. The questions were easy—multiple choice—and I was done well before the end of class. I turned in my paper and went to the hall to wait. I had nowhere to be and I was curious about Geena's and Matt's impressions of the exam.

Geena was out soon after me and she agreed that the test was easy. She took the chance to get to her next exam site early for a last-minute review and left me to wait alone again. Courtney came out a few minutes later, and I decided to be the bigger person.

“Hey, Courtney!” I waved to her. “How'd it go?”

“Fine.” She shrugged. “Not too hard.”

“Cool. Do you have any other mid-terms today?”

“No, I just have to turn in a paper.” Her accent wasn't as strong as some of the East Coasters, but she still had a trace of it. To me, it always sounded like they were all trying to hold a couple of marbles in their cheeks and not swallow them.

“Lucky.” I spotted Matt coming out of the auditorium and called his name.

“Hey, Joss.” He approached and nodded at Her Highness. “What's up, Courtney?”

“What'd you think?” I asked him.

“No biggie.” He shrugged.

“Great, then let's get the hell out of here,” I said.

“You got it.” He slipped the second strap of his backpack on and smiled at Her Highness. “See ya, Court.”

We were only a few steps away when she jogged after him and stopped Matt with a perfectly manicured hand on his sleeve. “Look, Matt, I'm sorry about the other day …”

“No biggie,” Matt repeated.

“It's just that Chuck can be kind of jealous …” She made a pretty pout.

“Nothing to be jealous of, right?” he asked with an expression that said she was a little confused, if not nuts.

“Oh …” She didn't hide her surprise well. “I guess not.”

“Cool. See you later.” He turned his back on her and I threaded my hand through his arm.