Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
MAEVE
It’s not what I would usually run, but it’s all I had time for before meeting Tate in the library. Normally, I try to get at least four miles every day. It helps keep my head focused, especially with finals just two days away, but I mostly do it to drown out the noise.
The noise being the constant voice in my head telling me I’d only ever amount to the things that Landon said I would. That everything he ever said about me was right.
You’re such a fuck up, Maeve.
It’s your fault that I got so angry, Maeve.
No one will ever want you, Maeve.
Just as they start to creep back in, they dissipate as I fling open the door to the fitness center and step outside.
Snow falls from the grey sky in fluffy little flakes, just starting to coat the grass and bare trees around campus.
The air is crisp as I suck a deep breath into my lungs, watching it puff out around me when I release it.
Cedar Grove Café sits between the fitness center and the campus library, and I’m pretty sure they know me by name and have my coffee order memorized, considering I stop there almost every day.
It feels like a crime not to get one on cold days like this, but that doesn’t mean much when I get it year-round.
On the way to meet Tate, I stop in for my usual: a large, hot vanilla latte with almond milk and two shots of espresso.
Yesterday, I was a little nervous to meet Tatum in the library again, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s not a weirdo.
He’s just a little shy. He couldn’t hold eye contact, and when he did, his cheeks would redden almost immediately.
By looking at him, you wouldn’t think he’d be the quiet, smart type, but I found it kind of sweet that he was.
When I enter the library, I spot him in his usual seat, his books stacked neatly on the table but not open.
He’s wearing a grey hoodie and some jeans, his dark green Converse moving swiftly up and down as he bounces his knees.
His legs are so long that he almost looks cramped in that tiny wooden chair.
His head lifts as I approach, and one of his large hands reaches up to push his glasses up his nose.
I can’t fathom how someone of his stature can be so…awkward.
Shrugging off my coat and beanie, I watch little melted snowflakes drip onto the carpet. My fingers comb through my hair in hopes of taming it as best as I can before sitting across from him and taking a sip of my coffee for some warmth.
“It’s freezing outside,” I say.
“It’s actually only thirty-eight degrees,” Tate says, with more confidence than I’ve seen thus far, but it falters as he peeks up at me. “The snow won’t stick unless it’s thirty-two d-degrees or below. It’s, uh, supposed to be below freezing tomorrow—”
Someone drops something. Loud. A book, probably. It’s not even the noise that stops Tatum from finishing his sentence, it’s because I jump so hard in my chair that my coffee sloshes from the little drinking hole onto the table. My heart pounds so hard in my chest, I can hear it in my ears.
It was just a book.
You’re okay.
It’s a book.
“Are you okay?”
I blink rapidly, giving him the best half-smile that I can manage as I try to calm the shakes starting to take over my hands. “Yeah. Good. Just scared me.”
Wiping off the coffee that spilled on my hand, I take the sleeve of my shirt and clean up the mess it left on the table.
He’s staring at me, I can feel it, but as I glance up at him to meet his gaze, his eyes quickly dart away.
The tremble of my fingers is undoubtedly noticeable, so I stuff my hands under my thighs in hopes of making what just happened disappear.
I hate that Landon did this to me. That he made me into the kind of person who startles at loud noises. That he made me into the kind of person who can’t function normally.
“I’ve never heard you talk that much before,” I tease, keeping my face serious.
“I was rambling. I’m sorry.”
To avoid making him feel weird and because I so desperately want to change the subject, I pull out my textbooks and lay them on the table. My notes for finals are a mess, a disarray of papers with highlighted sections and scribbles, because my handwriting isn’t the cutest.
“Must be nice not to have to study,” I say after a moment.
“I could help you,” he mumbles, “uh, study.”
“No, no.” I wave him off. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine.”
He looks away, glancing down at my books, and I observe him as he does.
His lashes are so long, I’d never noticed them before behind his glasses, and his lips are full.
They sit in the tiniest of natural pouts, and it dawns on me how handsome he is.
Suddenly, his eyes flicker back up to mine, startling me just a bit, but he just smiles faintly before they’re off me once more.
Like he’s scared for his gaze to hover a moment too long.
“So, how come you’re not going home for Christmas?”
“I, uh,” he clears his throat, “I don’t have any family.”
What is wrong with me? Why did I just ask him that? “That was insensitive of me. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” I wince sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Tate.”
Why he wants to drive me across the country is beyond me, especially considering he probably thinks I’m the strangest person on the planet. Is it blatantly obvious that I have issues, or am I overthinking it too much?
“Well, you’re…more than welcome to stay with my family for Christmas,” I offer, the sympathy bubbling hot in my stomach. God, what am I saying? “They’re insufferable, but only because they’re so nice.”
The look on his face makes me want to shrivel up. His dark eyes widen just slightly as he squirms in his seat, his mouth parting faintly like he doesn’t know what to say.
“Or not. God, I’m awful today.” I laugh dully, my cheeks warming. “You definitely aren’t obligated to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“N-no, it’s nice of you…” He trails off. “I just, uh… You do want me to drive you, then?”
Shit.
I know this week was meant to get a feel for Tate and whether I trusted him enough to be stuck with him for two whole weeks, and here I am on day two, insinuating things without even talking to him first. He just makes it so easy to feel like I can trust him.
He’s quiet, sure, but it’s the eyes. The whole face, really.
He’s kind and soft, or is that just me being naive again?
I used to think that Landon was also kind and soft, and he was once, but it was a mask.
Something to reel me in just enough to show his true colors.
Tatum isn’t Landon.
Not every guy is a devil in disguise. I can’t think like that.
I shrug. “Yeah, why not?”
Tate nods, smiling gently and showcasing those dimples.
“We could make a road trip out of it,” I suggest. “Seven days there, stay the weekend, and then seven days back. What do you think? I’d help with hotels and gas.”
“That sounds good,” he tells me, “if you’re s-sure. About me taking you, I mean.”
“I’m sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I repeat. “We’ll leave Saturday, then?”
“Saturday,” he agrees.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I peek over the top at him, watching as he swallows thickly and looks down at his lap. It’s probably so boring here at the library with me if he’s already memorized all of his notes; I’m not the most interesting person.
“You don’t have to meet me here every day, by the way.”
This time, he lifts his head and frowns at me.
I huff out a feeble laugh. “I’m sure you have better things to do than sit here with me for an hour.”
“Uh, n-no,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I don’t, really.”
His words immediately pique my curiosity.
What does he do when he’s not here? Especially if he doesn’t even need to study because he already knows everything.
He doesn’t have any family to talk to, and it doesn’t seem like he has friends…
but I shut that thought down because it makes my stomach churn uneasily to assume something like that.
I just met him a few days ago, it would be mean of me to think that gives me any place to make hurtful assumptions about his social life.
“Well, since you have nothing better to do than to watch me study, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He nods swiftly. “Yes.”
A ghost of a smile resides on my lips as I start to stack my books together, scooping them up as I try to balance everything in my arms. I really need to invest in a bag big enough to hold all of my stuff, so I don’t have to keep embarrassing myself in front of him.
Seeing me flinch like a bomb had just gone off next to us earlier was embarrassing enough.
With my arms full, I turn to leave, but not before shooting him a look over my shoulder.
“Oh, and Tate?”
He hums expectantly.
“If you murder me, I will haunt you.”