Zak
ZAK
Even before I leave my room, the wrongness aches deep in my bones. But I can’t let the fact that it doesn’t feel right get in the way. It’s the whole damn reason I’m doing this. Tugging at the neck of my white button down, I glance in the mirror a final time before grabbing my keys and phone from my desk.
“You look like you’re going to face a firing squad.”
I turn to where Sol’s squinting up at me from my bed and flip him off with both hands. “Helpful as a fucking headache, man.”
“Just telling you the truth.” He shrugs. “You’re going out to get laid, you should look a bit happier.”
“I’m not getting laid. It’s a first date, you fucking heathen.” Turning back to the mirror, I prod the inch and a half of afro I’ve grown above the shaved sides of my hair over the summer. Every day, I think about cutting it back to the half inch I’ve had since high school. And every day I put it off. New school year, new me. Or something like that.
“Where are you taking her?” Sol asks.
“Sushi place in Portland.” My friend looks surprised, and I laugh. “What? Did you think I was taking her to Grinds?”
Sol chuckles, sheepishly pulling a hand through his dark blond hair. “I mean, there’s not exactly a lot of options around here.”
Ain’t that the fucking truth? Franklin West is in the middle of a forest in the ass crack of Oregon. Even ordering a pizza is a nightmare.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t take a first date to Grinds,” I mutter. “Are you staying in my room or going back to your palace on the top floor?”
Sol rolls his eyes and stands as I usher him out and lock the door behind me.
“Good luck!” he calls as I jog down the stairs.
I don’t reply. We both know I’m going to need it.
If you’d asked me when I arrived at FWU three years ago, as a bright-eyed eighteen-year-old lacrosse star with the world at my feet, whether I believed in soul mates, I’d have laughed in your face. I might even have gone as far as to make some crass joke about too much pussy, not enough time. Honestly, I’d still probably make that joke. But then, she happened.
Standing as a freshman pledge to the Alpha Psi Deltas, I’d watched the most beautiful, confident girl I’d ever laid eyes on, stare me down with a sneer that told me she thought I wasn’t worthy. And something just . . . clicked. The next couple of months were spent wearing her down, until I finally got my reward.
A single kiss.
Less than five perfect minutes in a dark corner during the Thanksgiving Blow Out three years ago, and all it did was confirm that my stupid heart was right. Jaime Smith is mine.
Which is why going on this date is a mistake.
A fact I’m reminded of forty minutes later when Tara enters the small Japanese restaurant I suggested, tugging off her white woolen hat and running her fingers through her sleek black bob as she reaches me.
“Hey, .” Her cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, and her smile is shy as I bend to kiss her on the cheek. “How was your summer?”
I shrug, taking my seat again as she sits opposite. “Same old. Catching up with friends and family. A fuck ton of babysitting.”
Tara shrugs off her coat, the shoulder of her soft blue sweater falling low enough to show the black lace of her bra. “Babysitting? Really?”
“Yeah. My two sisters have three daughters each.”
“Wow.” Tara’s dark eyes widen, stark against her pale skin. “That’s . . .”
“A lot,” I finish with a laugh. “Yeah. They’re way more than a handful, but I adore them.”
It’s the truth. Holidays are messy and loud, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Plus, six grandchildren definitely help to take the spotlight off me and my murky future post-graduation.
“What about you?” I ask. “How was your summer?”
I settle back, nodding along as Tara tells me about spending most of the break on her family’s yacht in the Med, and wonder for the millionth time why I’m here. Then push the reason right out again. I won’t think about that. About her .
“I can’t believe it’s your last year,” Tara says, causing my stomach to somersault. “Do you know what you’re going to do after graduation?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I poke at the menu, wishing I’d suggested the campus coffee shop, Grinds, after all. “My folks are pretty chill, so . . .”
“Are you ready to order?”
I could kiss the waiter as he interrupts. It’s not that I’m dreading next year, but I kind of am. Everyone else has plans. Jobs to go to, whether they want to or not, careers to chase and build. My mom has said she’s got positions open at her company, but she’s not pushing me.
They’ve never really pushed me.
I’ve always appreciated the fact that my parents are easygoing. They’ve always been firm with my sisters and me, but whatever path we want to take, they’re fine with it if it makes us happy. So, when I graduated high school with little more than a solid GPA and a love of lacrosse, they suggested economics as a major. I had no feelings about it either way, so I figured what the hell.
For three years, I’ve been waiting for something to click. Driving down the highway of life, waiting for an exit sign to call out to me. But it hasn’t. And now graduation is looming in the very near future. Suddenly, coasting through life without a destination feels a lot like I’m about to run out of road.
“And what about you, sir?”
Dragging myself back to the present, I give my order and return my focus to my date with a smile. Tara’s on the swim team and I’ve run into her at the gym a few times. She’s always made her interest clear, and I finally caved and gave her my number right before the summer. I’m not sure what I was thinking.
I open my mouth to ask her about her course when my phone buzzes loudly in my pocket.
“Sorry.” I wince and pull it out, but then pause. “Shit. It’s my coach. Do you mind?”
She holds up her hands and shakes her head. “Not at all.”
Apologizing again, I stand and head outside, swiping to accept the call the second I’m away from the table. “Hey, Coach.”
“Coach?” Sol’s laughter echoes down the line. “Sex coach?”
As the door shuts behind me with a tinkle, I let out my own laugh. “You fucking wish. I couldn’t exactly tell her my bestie was calling to give me an exit strategy, could I?”
“Do you need one?” he asks. “How’s it going?”
Leaning against the wall of the restaurant, I exhale, watching my breath plume in front of me. “She’s nice. She’s pretty. It’s not awful.”
A familiar voice groans dramatically in the background. “You don’t have to marry her, . Just fuck her. I swear, it’s like you don’t understand college at all.”
“Am I on speakerphone, Sol? You traitorous asshole.”
“Sorry,” Sol says, not sounding it at all. “Alex wanted an update, too.”
“I can’t believe you thought you could leave me out,” he grumbles. “If anyone’s a fucking sex coach, it’s me.”
Tipping my head back with a groan, I stare up at the icy blue sky. “You weren’t even on campus when I left for this date, Rainer.”
“Whatever. She knows you’re a senior, so she’s clearly just in it for your dick. Just give the poor girl what she wants.”
“I watched videos in high school warning me about people like you,” I say, shaking my head.
“Me too.” Sol chuckles. “The ones about peer pressure, right?”
I grin. “No. Perverts.”
“Fuck you, Aldridge.”
“You wish, Rainer.”
“Okay, enough,” Sol breaks in. “? Are you going back to your date, or are you needed back on campus for a lacrosse emergency?”
Blowing out a slow breath, I consider my options. Tara’s nice. She’s pretty. We have stuff in common. There’s just one huge, glaring problem. She’s not Jaime.
I close my eyes and thud my head against the stone wall. That’s exactly the reason I’m on this date in the first place. Yet another attempt to flush Jaime Smith from my system.
“He’s going to bail,” Alex mutters. “I called it.”
“I’m right here,” I snap. “And I’m not going to bail.”
“Seriously?” Sol asks. “You’re going to go through with it?”
“Go through with it?” I echo. “It’s not like I’m donating a fucking kidney. I’m perfectly capable of eating sushi and talking to a pretty girl.”
“Yeah, well,” Alex grunts. “Just don’t be so . . . you.”
I bark a laugh. “Why the hell are we friends again?”
“You know what I mean. Try to be a little serious or you’ll never see her tits, let alone—”
“She asked for my number after watching me pretend to lift weights with my dick,” I interrupt. “I think we’re good.”
Sol laughs and I grin at the thought of the disgust that’s almost certainly on Alex’s face right now.
“I’m heading back in. Later, fuckers.” I hang up and turn my phone to silent before walking back into the restaurant, grateful to be back in the warmth.
“Everything okay?” Tara asks as I sit back down.
“Yeah. Coach Pearson has scheduled a couple of pre-season games and couldn’t get hold of Sol, so he was checking in with me.”
Tara nods, and I feel a twinge of guilt for lying to her, but she buys it without hesitation.
“You’re so lucky lacrosse season doesn’t start until spring,” Tara says, sipping the green tea that arrived while I was outside. “The best part of summer was not having to wake up at five.”
I shudder. “Yeah. There’s only one way you should be getting wet at five in the morning, and that’s not it.”
Tara almost spits out her green tea and I chuckle, handing her a napkin. I honestly can’t help it and imagining Alex’s frustrated face makes the joke even sweeter.
“Your hair’s longer.” She smiles, nudging my leg under the table with her foot. “It suits you.”
Immediately, I reach up and scrunch my fingers through it. “Thanks. I’ll probably cut it come spring. No one wants helmet hair.”
She laughs, and I realize it’s a little too much considering what I said wasn’t even that funny. A rarity in itself. Perhaps she’s as uncomfortable as I am. I watch as she licks her lips, watching me over the rim of her cup, and Alex Rainer’s voice fills my head. She’s clearly just in it for your dick.
Fuck.
It would be easy, I guess. There’s no way there’s going to be a second date, so maybe I should just give her what she wants. There’s just one problem with that, though. I’ve tried it before. And it doesn’t fucking work.
I know exactly what would happen. We’d go back to campus. We’d kiss. It would get hot and heavy and then when I’m balls deep, I’ll look down and see her . Not Tara, but the flawless brown skin and bright brown eyes belonging to a woman who rarely gives me the time of day.
It's always her.
I have no desire to go through that again, and as Tara ‘accidentally’ nudges my leg for the second time, a new resolve settles in my gut.
Instead of going on dates to try and get over Jaime, I need to try harder. I need to up my game. This year, senior year, is my last chance. I might not know where I’m headed after graduation, but I know one thing with absolute certainty. Jaime Smith is the only thing that’s called out to me my whole life.
Alex and Sol may think I’m obsessed. But I’m not. I’m convinced. Convinced that she’s the one.
And this year, I’m finally going to convince her, too.