20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Margot
There are so many eyes on me that I have to check four separate times to ensure that I’m fully clothed. After confirming every single time, I have to think of the next logical conclusion as to why everyone on campus is staring at me as I walk through the quad this morning.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I’m glad for the distraction. A text from Alex rolls in followed by a video link.
It's a hit!
The podcast! With Ryan asking me out and Danika ripping every strand of hair out of my body last night, I nearly forgot that we went public yesterday. The video link takes me to our website where there are over fifty thousand views and counting. Hundreds of comments roll in and I switch over to the editing side of the website and notice even more questions from viewers, too. Alex was right. We might need to reassess Saturday’s show.
Taking a seat on a bench in the quad, I click back to the video link and skim through the comments. Hundreds of them mention how hot Alex is, which he absolutely does not need to inflate his ego even more. Even more comments about how charming he is, which I can’t deny either.
The grin doesn’t leave my face as I continue to skim the page. Until I find them. The comments about me.
Who is this girl? Never seen her in my life.
Why is Alex Prescott doing a podcast with this nobody? I volunteer as tribute.
Petition for Alex to do this show by himself… or at least with someone more relevant. That comment had far too many likes for me. Closing my phone, I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the noise I just read and the eyes all around me. My phone vibrates in my hand, and I peek my eyes open just enough to see the name before sending it to voicemail.
Immediately, Alex calls again, but I ignore it. Noticing the time, I head to the library to hide in my study room until class in an hour. When I close the door to Study Room G6, I feel like I can finally take a deep breath. Even walking into the library, there were eyes on me. Whispers everywhere. It’s like everyone on campus has seen the first episode. Plopping in the seat, I pull my phone out of my back pocket as it continues to vibrate. This time from texts.
Sunshine, ignore those stupid comments
Most of these people have no idea what they're talking about
I say most because those comments about me being hot are totally spot on
I roll my eyes, but his humor can’t break me from this mood. I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning. I knew I should’ve stayed behind the scenes. My phone vibrates one last time, and I read the text before shoving it into my backpack, all unanswered.
Where are you?
I’m not ready to talk to Alex about this. He’s going to be too overwhelmingly optimistic about it and I want to wallow. Taking out my laptop, I start working on the article about the alumni gala. I might as well take my mind off my failures by completing work I actually enjoy doing.
After thirty minutes of vigorous typing, a knock is heard on the study room door. What the? “Occupied,” I yell as I continue writing. .
Another, louder knock and then an urgent voice calling for “sunshine.” The knock persists until I get up out of my seat and open the door.
“What are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”
Alex rolls passed me into the room. “I know you have a break in your schedule at this time on Tuesdays. Doesn’t take a genius to deduce where you might be.” He knows my schedule?
Closing the door behind him, I wander back over to my chair, content to ignore him. Even though he showed up and ramrodded his way into my study room, it doesn't mean I need to talk to him.
Alex closes my laptop screen, almost taking out my fingers with it.
“Hey!”
“I’m not letting you do this. I’m not letting you give up.” He sat himself on the table, his feet resting on the chair next to mine.
“I’m not doing anything. But you have to admit, I was right. I told you I shouldn’t have been in front of the camera.”
Alex sighs and it sounds like he’s been holding it in for decades. “That is bullshit and you know it. Fuck those people. All they’ve done is give us a new goal: Prove them wrong.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Nothing ever stops you, frat boy.” I don’t mean for the nickname to sound harsh, but I can’t help the way it slipped off my tongue. Either way, Alex doesn’t let the jest shake him.
“I understand you’re upset and you’re allowed to be. But what you’re not allowed to do is let shitty people that are unhappy with their shitty lives make you feel any type of way. At all.”
I can’t meet his gaze, but I do notice the clock above the door and realize I should probably start heading to class. Packing my laptop in my bag, I stand from my chair and accidentally find myself and Alex face to face. As I move to get away from his personal space, Alex grips my chin and pulls my face to meet his.
“Are you listening to me, Margot?”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this time spent with Alex Prescott, he uses my government name, he means business.
I pull my face out of his grasp, but I don’t move too far away, our eyes still linked. “I am listening,” I reply, my voice small.
“Hiccups are bound to happen. It’s how we react to them that makes all the difference. And we’re gonna show these assholes that we can’t be fucked with.”
The more Alex talks, the more I want to believe him. He’s so incredibly positive all the time, it’s truly inspiring. Before I know it, I find myself nodding. “Yeah.”
“Yeah what?”
“They can’t fuck with us,” I reply, a slight grin starting to form on my face.
Alex’s smile is Oscar-worthy. “What’s that, sunshine? Say it loud and proud!”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes. “They can’t fuck with us!” I yell loud enough that I surprise myself, but not too loud that I forget I’m in a library. Alex jumps off the table and pulls me in for a tight hug, his arms underneath mine as he sweeps me off my feet.
“Fuck yeah, that’s my girl!”
I laugh as he spins me around, as much as he can within the tiny confines of the study room. Once my feet hit the floor again, Alex and I both take a moment, laughing as we catch our breath. Looking up, I see Alex’s face much closer than it was before. Not a friendly kind of close. A dangerous kind of close. His breath is minty and it hits my nose as he exhales sharply. He licks his lips.
I blink out of the trance, taking a step too far back. “Thanks, Alex.” He blinks too as if he was caught in the same trance. Then he nods a few times. And then smiles.
Alex is right. We’ll show these haters who’s boss. And we’ll do it together.
“Did he say where he’s taking you?” Danika asks, her nose in her closet again, picking out the perfect outfit for my date with Ryan. “Location is a huge factor in outfit-decision making.”
“Nope,” I respond, although I’m only half paying attention. I know she’s not going to let me make the final decision anyway so there’s no point in even trying to insert my opinion.
I must be a masochist because, instead of leaving it alone like Alex suggested, I can’t stop myself from scrolling through the comments again. For every ten mean comments about me, there’s one semi-decent one so I guess there’s that? On the other hand, for every ten nice comments about Alex, there’s one incredibly dirty one. Not one ounce of hate for the golden boy. Must be nice.
Before I can finish reading the comment about my “nasally voice,” my phone is ripped from my hand.
“Why are you still reading these comments?” Sydney asks, closing the tab on my phone and tossing it onto the bed next to me.
I have no reply but, truly, I don’t know why I’m still making myself suffer. Maybe I’m hoping for a miracle and all the mean comments will change to nice ones?
Sydney takes my hands and drags me over to the vanity. Pushing me down in the chair, she puts her hands on both my shoulders. “We are not giving any more attention to internet assholes. Right now, we are going to glam you up and then you are going to have the best time on your date with Ryan. Is that clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” I salute Sydney and she laughs. Sydney starts working her magic to make my face look unrecognizable while Danika finally pulls the right outfit for me out of her closet. Within fifteen minutes, I’m dressed in the tightest jeans Danika owns and a black halter that makes my shoulders pop, just in time too as Ryan texts me that he’s downstairs.
Danika gives me a once over and then hands me her tan wedges. I really am lucky that she and I are the same size in basically everything. “Ok, Mar. Let loose, have lots of fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s not a lot.”
“Exactly,” she says with a wink. Sydney gives me a tight squeeze and then I grab my purse and head down to the lobby. I had expected to get into Ryan’s car but instead I’m met with him standing in the foyer waiting for me.
“I would’ve come to your door, I just didn’t know which apartment it was,” he says as I approach him. “You look beautiful.”
The blush creeps up my cheeks and is masked only by my wide smile. “Thank you,” I say. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Ryan smiles and holds the door for me to leave the building. His car is idling out front and he holds the passenger door open for me too.
“So where are you taking me?” I ask when we’re both settled in.
Ryan smiles as he pulls away from the curb. “How do you feel about Italian?”
“I feel great about it,” I say, but on the inside my stomach clenches. Italian meals can be expensive and if I want to go Dutch, I’m gonna have to make sure I don’t pick the most expensive meal on the menu–not that I ever would.
Within minutes, Ryan pulls up to a cute little mom and pop Italian restaurant and my gut loosens a little bit. When we enter, Ryan motions two fingers to the hostess and we’re seated immediately.
Ryan pulls out my chair and I sit as gracefully as I can. He really is quite the gentleman. It’s a stark difference from how Alex treats me sometimes. Why are you thinking about Alex right now?
“I hear the penne ala vodka is amazing here,” Ryan comments as he opens his menu. I hum in response. If I’m going to give Ryan a real chance, I need to not let thoughts of my friend Alex leak into my brain during this dinner. Especially not thoughts about that moment we had in the study room. When he picked up and then put me down… Stop it!
“I’m definitely going to get that then,” I reply, closing my menu.
Ryan laughs. “You’re not even going to peruse the menu?”
“Nope, I trust your judgment,” I say, taking a sip of the fresh water the waiter poured when we sat down. Ryan closes his menu, too.
“I’m going to get the same,” he says definitively. “Well, that was easy.”
I chuckle. Yes, it was. So far everything about this date has been easy.
When the waiter comes back, Ryan orders our entrees and he’s polite to the waiter (something I always look out for) when asking for extra bread in our bread basket. Ryan asks me about my family and growing up in the South. I give him the abridged version, saving the real juicy details for a later date–if there is one. Ryan tells me about growing up in California and how he made his way over to the Northeast to go to Tomlin.
“Once I got that baseball scholarship, I couldn’t say no.”
“Would you have wanted to stay in California if you didn’t get this scholarship?” I ask, finishing the last of my fourth glass of water.
Ryan had been right about the pasta, it was amazing. We had just finished eating dinner when the dessert menu arrived on our table.
“I’m not sure. All I know is, I haven’t regretted my decision to come here for one second.” He smiles and I match his expression.
Ryan holds up the dessert menu with a questioning look. He’s letting me make the decision to extend the night or not. While I am having a good time, the edits for Saturday’s podcast taping start to creep into the back of my mind. And the fact that I have class at nine tomorrow morning. It was nice that Ryan wanted to see me during the week instead of waiting until the weekend, but it does mean that I’m not really in for a long night on a Wednesday.
I think my indecisiveness is showing on my face because Ryan makes the decision for us. “Next time, we’ll go for ice cream,” he says and I grin in relief.
After a quick but non-confrontational fight over Ryan paying for the check, we grab our coats and head out. We ride in comfortable silence back to my apartment and I can’t help but feel good. This date was really nice. Ryan is really nice. The whole evening I’ve felt comfortable and safe. So why, when he pulled up to my building, did I find myself shying away?
A goodnight kiss is standard for first dates.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Ryan says, putting the car in park but leaving the engine running.
“I did, too,” I agree.
There’s a pause. A silence in the air. Ryan doesn’t lean in. But neither do I.
After a second, I smile. “Goodnight, Ryan.”
“Goodnight, Margot,” he says. It’s a clear dismissal of the date but not a dismissal of the possibility of another one. Ryan idles outside the building until I get in the door and then he pulls away from the curb. I take a deep breath. Nice. That was…nice.