Chapter 5 Carrie
I push open the clubhouse doors, whistling as I go. I’ve been looking forward to this all day, and it doesn’t take me long to spot my friends clustered around the coffee machine.
“Carrie!”
I’m greeted by four smiles—Shelby, Amanda, Lynn, and Eleanor, all bookworms like me. Scratch that—we’re professional book boyfriend hunters and die-hard defenders of the romance genre. Bookaholics unite!
Otherwise, I’m kind of a loner, and so are they. And that’s okay with us. We meet up once a month for our book club, and that’s all the socializing any of us need.
“Hey, girls!”
As we walk into our usual room, I listen to them swap vacation stories and list the novels they’ve been reading. I spent two months at Mom’s, and the truth is I read more than the other four combined. Losing myself in the pages of a good book is how I unwind.
We settle down at the table, and Amanda fishes out her notes along with a couple of cartons of lemonade. I scrape back my hair, and I’m just stirring a little sugar into my cappuccino when I hear a door squeaking behind me. Eleanor squeals.
“Can we help you?” Lynn sounds girlier than she usually does.
Footsteps sound behind my back. I scour my friends’ faces, trying my best to ignore the sense of impending doom swelling in my chest. This cannot be happening! I’m paranoid, that’s all. I need to get it together.
“I’m here for the book club?”
I nearly choke on my cappuccino. I recognize that voice. Someone please tell me this isn’t happening!
“Really?” Lynn is practically drooling.
This is unreal. It would be funny if it weren’t so incredibly annoying.
I smooth my palms over the table and slowly turn to face my worst nightmare. Yup. It is happening after all. Donovan Wolinski, in the flesh.
“I’m going to count to three,” I say to the others, “and by the time I get there, he’ll be gone.”
A swift kick to my shin beneath the table. Then a second.
“She’s only kidding!” Amanda giggles. “Pull up a chair!”
“I didn’t know if I needed to sign up or anything, so I thought I’d just swing by.” He looks me square in the eye and smirks.
“We’re full, sorry.”
“Don’t listen to her! You definitely did the right thing, coming by!” Lynn coos. “Take Carrie on the chair!”
What the hell?
He starts. “What?”
“Sorry, I mean—take the chair next to Carrie.”
Talk about a Freudian slip.
Donovan scrapes back his seat and settles in, his features pinched and serious, his hands resting on his thighs as he spreads his legs.
“What the hell are you doing?” I mutter.
His shoulders shake with silent laughter. Oh, he’s thrilled with himself. I fidget with my glasses as my backstabbing friends gape at him, practically drooling.
Donovan clears his throat and gestures at the table with his chin. “This is my first time, so…”
I wish he would just burst into flames. Carrie, chill. I glance around the room, annoyed at all the lovesick sighs.
I swivel around to face Donovan, and if looks could kill, he’d definitely be dead.
“It’s time for you to leave, Wolinski.”
“How’s your bike doing, Carrie?”
Shelby is staring at us. “I had no idea you guys knew each other.”
He pretends to look offended. “You mean she didn’t tell you? One of my friends is dating her roomie. We’re buddies.”
He slings an arm around the back of my seat, and I scrape my chair away as fast as I can.
“We’re definitely not buddies,” I correct him. My friends are staring at me, shell-shocked. “I vote we kick him out, with immediate effect.”
“What? No!”
A coup is brimming right before my eyes, and it’s a shame—I genuinely liked these girls.
“We have an open policy,” Eleanor fired back. “And there’s only five of us. New members are always welcome.”
“And this is definitely the kind of member we need.” Shelby nods.
“Did somebody say member?” Lynn giggles, her cheeks flushing as she catches Donovan’s eye.
Wow. Somebody shoot me.
Donovan cocks an eyebrow at me. I’m cringing so hard for them all.
He tilts his head, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Are they discussing my dick?”
Actually shoot me now.
“Please don’t use the word ‘dick.’ ”
Shelby pouts. “He can say ‘dick’!”
“Oh my God! Fine—I give up. He can stay.” I throw my hands up. “Okay? Can we get started here, or what?”
“Let’s do it!” Amanda rummages in her bag. “We picked tonight’s book over the summer, Donovan. It’s about—”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Lifting his backpack onto his lap, he pulls out the novel and holds it up.
“How the…” My voice trails off.
Son of a bitch. So that’s where I left it. In his car. I spent the whole of last night wondering what I did with it. I’ve never lost a book in my life. I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out where it was.
“I found it in my car, along with a flyer for the reading group,” he says lightly.
“So, you thought, ‘Hey, I know what to do here! This would be the perfect opportunity to do some casual stalking!’ ” I burst out.
My friends flinch.
“No,” he drawls. “I thought, ‘Hey, I know what to do here! Carrie left this book on purpose! What a sweet girl, gifting me a gold mine!’ Didn’t you tell me to figure my shit out like a big boy? Well—that’s what I did.”
“So, you read it? The whole thing?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow.
“When I want something, I go for it,” he replies. “Even if I have to stay up all night long.”
“What are these two talking about?”
I glance at Amanda. “Go on, Wolinski. You tell Amanda exactly why you’ve been busting my balls all week!”
I was hoping this would make him feel awkward, but he just smiles.
“I asked Carrie for some tips, and she refused.”
Lynn leans in closer. “What kind of tips?”
“I want to be the best version of myself I can be.”
My mouth falls open. This guy has got these girls wrapped around his finger. I start to slow-clap.
“Wow. Wolinski for President!”
He blows me a kiss, and I mime barfing in return.
“He thinks I can turn him into a good boyfriend.”
Lynn lets out a bark of laughter. “You? Sorry, girl. But out of all of us here…”
I give her a dirty look and she clams up.
“Great! You read the book—I’m happy for you, Wolinski. But you’re not welcome here.”
“Carrie!” Shelby widens her eyes. “Don’t talk to him like that.”
“Yeah, Carrie.” Donovan makes a sad face at me. “Don’t be such a meanie.”
I bring my cappuccino to my lips, though I know I’m going to need something a whole lot stronger than caffeine to get through this.
Lynn shoots him a sweet smile. “I’ve never met a guy who reads romance. That’s cute!”
“He’s only read one—”
“I’d love to know what you thought of it,” Shelby cuts in, resting her chin in her hand.
I roll my eyes. “I’d love to know whether you got the answers you were looking for, and whether that means you can crawl out of my ass now.”
He winks at me, sparking images of me stabbing my pen into his eye. Take it easy, Carrie…
“I need to be honest, here.” He rakes a hand through his hair.
“I’m not sure this book is gonna help me grow.
I was expecting something a little more soft-core.
I mean, the guy is screwing this chick, with blindfolds and spanking and stuff.
Is that standard?” He shrugs. “It’s cool and all, but that’s not really what I need help with. ”
“No shit.”
He turns to me. “Your advice didn’t work for me, Carrie—I read the book, but I’m not seeing the value there.”
“Well, obviously, if all you focus on are the sex scenes, then yeah.” I suppress a sigh. “I guess you missed all the stuff where the characters grow, their feelings develop—that kind of thing.”
He nods slowly. “Right! I’m such a dumbass. It looks like I do need your help with this, after all.”
I flick him the finger. “Burn in hell.”
“Personally, I loved it!” Eleanor interjects. “The way Dylan lures Samantha into his world like that…”
I tune out, glaring at Donovan’s profile. I’m so mad he actually had the balls to just barge on in here, when he doesn’t give a shit about our book club. All he wants is to push me over the edge. But why me?
“Especially chapter eleven,” Eleanor is saying. “I was expecting it to get all clichéd. Definitely didn’t see that twist coming.”
Lynn and Amanda nod eagerly.
Donovan flicks through the pages, a thoughtful hand pressed over his mouth.
“Wait a minute,” I start.
I grab his book—my book—and flip to the middle, my eyes widening as I realize what he’s done. You can’t throttle him, Carrie. Not here, not now. There are witnesses!
“You have got to be kidding me.” I glance up at him. “You highlighted sections?”
“Yeah, I color-coded it—yellow for funny parts, pink when it starts heating up, blue—”
“Who the hell does that to someone else’s book?!”
Color-coding? He has got to be kidding me. I peer at the page. He’s gone pretty heavy on the pink. He was looking for sex scenes. No wonder it kept him up all night…
He frowns. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal?” I ruffle my ponytail and jab a finger at him with all the vehemence I can muster. “Consider yourself officially banned.”
He laughs—laughs—and suddenly I just want to slap him.
“Banned,” I repeat for good measure.
Lynn leans into him and whispers, “She doesn’t mean it.”
“Oh, she definitely does. He even dog-eared pages!” I gasp, blanching. “Ever heard of a little thing called respect?”
I swing the book at him. He destroyed it anyway—might as well sacrifice it to beat some sense into this jerk. Unfortunately, I fail to cause any meaningful injury, and he catches my weapon with insulting ease.
“Did Dylan feel authentic to you, Donovan?” Shelby asks, ignoring my tantrum.
“In the first half, I thought he was great. But I was disappointed when he fell in love with Sam overnight. That U-turn didn’t make sense to me.”
I snort.
“I totally agree.”
Same here, Shelby. But there’s no way I’m admitting that.
The next hour and a half seems to drag on and on. I can’t focus on the discussion; I’m too busy wondering what the hell a guy like Donovan Wolinski is doing in a place like this. Tracking me down is one thing—but I didn’t expect him to get so deep into the debate.
Amanda turns to me. “Any thoughts, Carrie?”
“No.”
It’s unlike me, but the man lump to my left has wrecked my night.
“Well, that’s a wrap, guys!” Lynn starts packing up. “For next time, what do y’all think of Friday, October eighth?”
“It’s a yes from me,” Donovan says, jotting the date down in his notebook.
Is he taking notes? Un-fucking-believable!
“Oh, because you’re planning to come back?” I blurt out.
“I had a great time, so yeah, I’d love to come back.” He smiles. “Unless you want to give me an intensive refresher course this month, that is.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
He shrugs.
“I’m not sure about the eighth,” I tell the group. “I might be on death row by then.”
I push back my chair and sling my backpack over my shoulder, and as I turn to leave, I lock eyes with Donovan.
It’s just a split second, but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel awkward.
I’m not usually such a bitch, and it doesn’t feel good.
But then I remember how he’s been stalking me for the past few days and can’t take no for an answer, and the guilt evaporates as I turn on my heel and leave.
I’m in a crappy mood as I fling open the doors, and I’m starving, too. My plan is to take my rage out on the nearest double cheeseburger.
I’m rooting in my bag for my wallet, when a huge, unmoving wall appears in front of me.
“You walk super fast for such a small person,” he says breathlessly.
I look up. Donovan towers over me.
“I may be short, but that just puts me in striking distance of your balls,” I snap back.
“What’s with the ball obsession?”
“It’s all I ever think about,” I bite back, with a broad smile.
“Did you eat?”
Just as he asks, my stomach rumbles.
“Same here.” He laughs, pushing back a strand of hair. “Wanna grab a bite?”
This time, I soften my voice. Maybe I can kill him with kindness instead.
“I’m okay, thank you.”
“Oh, come on!” Donovan throws out his hands. “I’ll even let you sneak a few of my fries. I’m sure we have a bunch of stuff in common.”
I laugh. “We have absolutely nothing in common, trust me.”
He shrugs. “Not true. We both have a solid sense of humor.”
“Not true.” I shake my head. “I’m way funnier than you. And on that note—good night!”
I take a step to the left, and he mirrors me, blocking my way again. I shift to the right, and he follows suit.
“Okay—now you’re starting to creep me out.”
“Please, Carrie.”
“Oh my God!” I fling my arms up. “Why don’t you just ask one of the book club girls?
Lynn’s the biggest reader ever, and considering how she was looking at you tonight, I’m guessing she’d jump at the chance to give you a little one-on-one coaching.
” I look at him. “I don’t think it would be too hard to get her into bed, either. ”
“And that’s exactly why it’s a bad idea. I’m not looking for a girl who’ll crush on me—that’d never work. I want you.”
I bat my lashes. “You’re so romantic! Like, ‘dear diary’ romantic—”
“Carrie. Stop.” He rubs his eyes. “How about you quit talking to me like I’m a dumbass for a second and actually try listening to me?”
“I am listening! You’re just not hearing what I’m saying!” I yell. “Back in the dining hall, I told you I don’t want to help you. How much clearer do I have to be? Your plan is batshit, and I’m not the right person to help you out with it. So, just fucking drop it, already!”
By the end of my rant, I’m panting, the first flickers of a migraine starting behind my eyes.
“Have a good weekend,” I say curtly.
He stuffs his hands into his back pockets. “You too.”
I turn and start walking home. Something about the whole situation is making me feel so awkward, but at least now he seems to have heard me loud and clear. Just as I think I’m safe, he calls out.
“Hey, Carrie?”
I whip around. He hasn’t moved. I take my time looking at him, for once.
I’m a junior—I’ve seen this guy around campus plenty of times.
Tonight, though, he looks different. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he seems serious about this whole boyfriend glow-up thing, but then I remind myself that this is Donovan Wolinski—the poster boy for guys who play around.
The only thing he probably takes seriously is himself.
“What?” I ask.
“See you Monday!”
Before I have time to reply, he turns and starts jogging in the opposite direction.
I take it all back. This isn’t the end—far from it.