9. Jolie
JOLIE
Regret is an ugly business.
I’ve been living with it ever since I lay down on Kieran’s bed.
Leaving his place was so freaking awkward. Neither of us wanted to acknowledge the fact that I’d just lost my virginity, even though it was totally obvious I had. He couldn’t even look me in the eye, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was grossed out or he felt bad.
My limbs were shaking so much after he rolled off me that I could barely walk to the bathroom. When I tried to clean myself up, my hands were trembling so hard they basically weren’t working, and I had to fight the urge to curl into a lump on the floor and start crying.
Shame lashed me and guilt was a cat-o’-nine-tails, ripping into my metaphorical flesh and turning me into one big festering wound.
I shouldn’t have slept with him. I shouldn’t have let it go that far. Why didn’t I stop it?
Was it just curiosity, or was I actually too scared or embarrassed to admit I was a virgin and having sex on a first date was not something my upbringing condoned?
Ugh. For a girl who usually talks way too much, I certainly let myself down on Friday night.
Seriously.
I’m the worst.
And sex is awful.
I thought it might be romantic and wonderful. Kieran was so sweet over dinner, and sure, I didn’t realize that going back to his place was going to lead to that, but maybe I should have?
I don’t know!
Caroline always raves about how great sex is. She must be out of her mind.
Or maybe I’m the problem.
My stomach twists into a painful knot as I park my scooter outside Marty’s.
I have another interview with Ben, and I’m not really sure if I’m up for it. I felt so sunny and joyful last time we met. Today, I’m stressed and anxious.
My new roommate moved in this weekend.
Yes, on top of my horrible date, I now have to cope with a new person in my space. And God didn’t hear any of my prayers, because what I was hoping for was a replica of Julia. Sweet, kind of nerdy like me, into all the same stuff I am.
What I got was this ultra-cool, super-sexy Black woman named Nylah.
See! Even her name is cool!
Everything about her oozes confidence. Her smile is supermodel pretty. She wears makeup and dresses like choosing the right clothes is the easiest thing in the world. She has this stunning figure with curves in all the right places. I look like a candlestick standing next to her.
Not only that, but she’s the football coach’s daughter! I don’t know why that makes her even more epic, but somehow it does.
When she walked in with her parents, I lost my voice.
We shook hands and I tried to be polite, but all I could think was… She’s so intimidating.
I can’t be friends with her.
My quirky little butt is so awkward and gangly. She’s so smooth and perfect and… okay, so she walks with a slight limp. She didn’t say why, but I definitely noticed it along with the cane she rested against the wall at the end of her bed.
But the thing is, even with her limp and the cane, she’s still a thousand times cooler than me.
I blink, not wanting to think about this anymore
I can’t go crying just before my interview with Ben Evers. Yet another cool person I have to try and be brave around.
No one warned me that college life would be so exhausting!
They always talk about classes and how intense they can be.
Well, I’m finding classes a breeze. What I’m struggling with is all the other stuff nobody gave me a heads-up on.
Like interacting with people who are way out of my league, going on disastrous first dates, and feeling completely alone in an ocean of humanity.
Blowing out a breath, I force myself to open the door and walk into the café.
Ben’s already there. He’s sitting at the same table we were at last time, and the second he sees me, a smile crosses his face.
I try to return it but only manage a closed-mouth lip twitch.
Come on, Jolie. You can put on a better show than this.
Smile!
And my lips do as they’re told, stretching wide when I point at the counter. “Want a drink?”
“My turn to get them.” He stands up, and I watch his tall body lope toward me. He’s a giant. A tall, beautifully shaped one. I dip my eyes to the floor just before he reaches me, trying not to notice how good he smells. “What’s your poison this time? I’m guessing no to the strawberry smoothie?”
I glance up with a little huff of surprise. He noticed that I had one sip and bailed on the last one?
Wow.
I give him a little nod.
He winces. “Yeah, I should have warned you to stick to stuff that’s already sealed.”
“Good to know.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and glance at the fridge. “Just, uh… bottled water will be fine.”
“You sure that’s all you want?”
“Yeah.” I nod, and he brushes past me to walk to the counter.
I step out of the way so we don’t touch and move to the table.
Yeah, he really does smell good. I blink, shaking my head and kind of hating myself for noticing. After what I went through on Friday night, I’m pretty sure I’m off guys for the foreseeable future.
Pulling out my binder, I arrange my notes and try to stay focused on what I’m going to ask. I don’t want things to waffle and sidetrack today. I want to stay on point and then get out of here so I can…
Go where?
Back to your dorm?
What if Nylah’s there?
My shoulders slump and I start tapping my pen on the pad of paper in front of me. The questions I so neatly wrote out in prep for the last interview start to blur, and I actually jump when Ben appears.
“Here you go.”
“Oh!” I clear my throat, giving him a sheepish smile before mumbling, “Thank you.”
I go to open the bottle, grunting when the lid won’t budge. Frowning, I try again with no luck. Stupid cap thingy. Why do they have to make these so impossible to open?
“Mind if I try?” Ben reaches his large hand across the table, and I can’t help noticing the shape of his fingers. They’re so long and masculine and—
Stop noticing everything about him and hand over the bottle!
“Oh, uh… thanks.” I pass it over, and he opens it with zero effort.
“You loosened it for me.” He winks, passing it back and making my lips twitch without my say-so.
“Thank you,” I murmur again before taking a tentative sip, grateful for the cold liquid sliding down my throat.
“You okay?” Ben’s eyebrows dip, his voice soft with concern.
I nod.
“Are you sure? You don’t seem fine. What’s up?”
I force another smile, trying to make my voice sound playful. “I’m supposed to be interviewing you, which means I ask the questions, mister.”
He lets out a short laugh, and I power on with my questions. Having reviewed my notes over the weekend—at least I tried to; I found concentrating on anything really challenging—I’ve decided I want today’s session to be about his teammates.
“Can you run through your teammates and tell me what each of their strengths are? I’d love to get a read on how you guys work together.
I know there are different positions on the court and each of you bring something unique to each game.
I’d like your take on the best setup and why you think it works. ”
He’s nodding along as I do my spiel, looking pleased to be asked something he can easily answer.
And answer it he does.
With gusto, he makes great statements about each of his teammates. There’s obviously a lot of respect between the players, and I love the way he talks them up and highlights each of their roles.
“Sounds like you guys work great together.”
“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Until game day, right?”
I shrug. “I’ve never seen you guys play.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Not sure why, but we’re not great at bringing it on game day. We kick ass in practice, though.” He grins, but his smile soon falters and he kind of slumps back in his seat.
I nod and start tapping my pen again.
“I guess it’d just be nice to be celebrated the way the hockey and football teams are, you know? They’re so much more successful than us.”
“I guess it depends on what you call success.” I hitch my shoulder.
“I mean, sure, there’s the whole ‘where you are in the standings’ thing, but I’d say a team that works together and likes one another is pretty impressive.
Plus, you have fun, right? And people always underestimate the power of enjoying something. ”
His eyes seem to light up at my words, his smile filled with appreciation.
My lips twitch and I look down, not wanting to engage for too long. When he looks at me like that, I feel like he’s seconds away from seeing right through me.
Pursing my lips to the side, I skim what I’ve written and check for any other questions. I think I’ve got enough to put together something good. It’s probably time for me to get going and start working on this thing.
My insides twist as I think about the rest of my afternoon and evening, heading back to my dorm, maybe an awkward encounter with Nylah, then finally slipping into bed and reliving… ugh. I don’t want to think about it anymore!
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Ben nudges my foot with his.
“Huh?” I look up, feeling completely exposed for some reason.
I don’t know what my eyes are doing, but they seem to be bugging out, because he’s tipping his head like he’s trying to analyze me. And he looks worried. Or maybe that’s care.
I don’t know!
I just… can’t admit what I’m dealing with right now.
So I shake my head and assure him, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… tired, I guess. I had an eventful weekend.” I try to come up with an excuse that will make him stop looking at me like that.
“Ah… so your Friday night date went well, then, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Up all night were yo—”
His words evaporate all of sudden, his smile disappearing, and I can’t figure out why until I notice that my eyes are filling with tears.