Chapter 8 Donovan
The shrieks coming from the back of my car are making me want to drive us straight into a tree. While most of my rides involve one or two passengers, today I’ve got a wagonload of four overexcited girls. One of them is hollering straight down my ear canal.
“When do you start back with practice?”
“Next month.”
“Oh my God! We are so coming to all your games. You guys are the best.”
“Go Cardinals!” the four of them squeal.
When we finally reach South Hall, I spot Carrie waiting for me on a bench, her nose stuck in a book. Surprise, surprise. I hit the gas and screech to a halt right in front of her. She jumps. Peering into the car and taking note of my flock of passengers, she flips her book shut.
I’m doing my best to slip out to join her, but a tight knot of fangirls are blocking my way. The brunette winks at me.
“Thank you so much.”
“Always a pleasure to be of service.” I grin with a wink.
“I’ll call you when we need picking up,” the blond one coos, snaking her arms around me.
I hug her back and do the same to the other three. Glancing over their heads, I catch Carrie looking like she’s about to lose her shit. Uh-oh.
“I need to go, ladies. Duty calls!”
They scatter in a fit of giggles, leaving me free to zero in on my target.
“All good?” I hold my arms out for a hug.
“I’m fine.” She sidesteps to the right as if I’m contagious and strides toward my car.
I jog ahead so I can open the passenger door for her.
“Where to?” I ask, watching her get settled in.
“Do you know Sweety’s?”
“Sure thing.”
I circle around to my side, buckle in, and instantly feel her stare burning a hole through my cheek.
“What?”
“What, what?” She shrugs. “I was just thinking—four girls in one ride. Impressive work.”
“I know! I love my job.” I grin.
“They looked… satisfied with the service.”
“Oh, trust me. They’ll definitely be back for more.”
She takes a deep breath in and slips off her glasses, cleaning the lenses on her tee before putting them back on.
“You ready for your first lesson of the day, Wolinski?” she asks in this weirdly sweet voice.
“Shoot!”
“Great!” Her voice goes flat. “Mo-nog-a-my. Ever heard of it?”
I actually stall the engine, and the car lurches forward. What the hell?
“Okay, wow, Ms. Judgmental. I wasn’t planning on hooking up with them, if that’s what you’re picturing. They’re paying customers, though. My job is to keep them happy.”
“That is so incredibly honorable of you, Donovan. I really admire your work ethic.”
I gun the engine as we swing out of the parking lot. I was actually in a pretty good mood, but it’s tanking fast.
“It’s just business, baby,” I say, hoping the charm lands. It does not.
“First of all, never call me baby ever again,” she starts. “And second of all—are you a driver, or a himbo?”
“Wow! Harsh, man…”
“Not harsh. Realistic.” She holds up a hand.
“Picture the scene. You’re on your way to pick up a girl you started dating.
She’s really nice, you guys are just starting to vibe, and then BAM!
You come spilling out the car with four girls who are totally eye-fucking you.
And you’re giving them that stupid little side grin of yours that you think is so subtle. ”
“ ‘Stupid little…’ ” My eyebrows shoot up. “I wasn’t even—”
“Please! When a girl knows, she knows.”
I grip the steering wheel harder, frowning as I replay the scene in my mind, searching for what I could have possibly done wrong.
Okay, sure—they were hot. And in a different time and place, I probably would have been tempted for more, but I didn’t!
I don’t think I messed up here. And even if I did—so what?
It’s not like I signed up to get neutered.
“I asked for your help, but the plan was never to go all-out monk, you know,” I grumble.
“That’s not the point.” She sighs. “But if you’re gonna act like that, don’t be surprised when girls think you’re… well.” She waves a hand. “A walking red flag.”
“In the story we read for book club, the girl actively liked it when the guy pulled that shit. Remember?”
“True.” She nods. “But only because he reins it in when she’s around. He goes hot and cold. It’s a whole thing.”
I sigh. “Sounds complicated.”
She turns to me. “Let’s flip it around. Suppose there’s this great girl you started seeing. And you really like her—”
“The same one as earlier?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Carrie rolls her eyes.
“Well, it does to me. I’m a visual man.”
“You know what, sure!” She waves a hand in the air. “So, you’ve got this girl you really like. There’s something about her. She’s not like all the rest; you’re really into her. And then—”
“And then BAM?”
“BAM! A guy drops her off one day. Some superhot Campus Drivers guy, and she’s totally checking him out. What happens? Suddenly, you get the ick. You’re not picturing wedding bells and a white picket fence anymore. You’re thinking more party shots and STDs.”
I slow down and turn to look at her. I was right all along—Carrie is batshit.
“Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a tiny bit,” she says when she sees my expression. “But barely. And the key point here is that you need to come across less…” Her voice trails off. “I can’t decide whether the word I’m looking for is ‘available’ or ‘thirsty.’ ”
“Right,” I grind out, practically ripping the turn signal off.
She shrugs. “Hey, I’m just doing what you asked me to do, man.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re pouting, though.”
“I’m just trying to make sense of it all! Eleanor literally said girls love guys who get around because then when they start getting all interested in the heroine, that makes her feel ‘special.’ ”
I lift my hands off the wheel and put the last word in air quotes.
“Put those damn hands back on the wheel, Wolinski. And yes, you are correct. But that’s only for like the prologue!
You already have that rep. So trust me when I say any girl you end up crushing on is definitely going to feel ‘special.’ ” She air-quotes back at me.
“And I never said you needed to stop fucking—”
“Damn, that’s a dirty word, coming from you.” I glance over, smirking. “You can admit it, you know, if you’re trying to turn me on…”
Truth is, I’m only half joking. I haven’t slept with anyone since me and my sister had our talk. And if I’m getting random tingles from Carrie yelling at me, it’s definitely time to address that problem immediately.
I swipe over to my solo-driving playlist. I’m a sucker for old classics. The Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go” blasts through the speakers.
“Wow. You just read my mind!” Carrie gasps.
I glance at her. “Having second thoughts already?”
“Let’s just say I’m starting to get a sense of how challenging this is going to be.”
“I like the old stuff, that’s all.”
“Yeah, it goes with your car and your whole vintage Campus Driver vibe.”
I laugh. “Oh, I don’t play this stuff with passengers in the car. I let them pick.”
“You didn’t ask me what I wanted to listen to…”
“You’re literally getting a free ride, here.” I eye her. “Don’t push it.”
“Does that mean I’m stuck with this?”
“You don’t like it?”
“Eh.” She shrugs. “Anyway, you’re in the driver’s seat here.”
“Music to my ears,” I quip.
“Let’s just have some quiet time, okay?”
“Normally I’d sing along.”
“Don’t troll me, Wolinski,” she warns. “I’ve been pretty easy on you so far.”
“Easy?” I pretend to shudder. “I don’t want to think about what mean Carrie is like.”
“Start singing, and you’ll find out.”
We fall into silence, and ten minutes later, we pull up outside Sweety’s. While Carrie grabs us a table, I head to the counter to order.
Of course the barista on shift today is someone from campus—and not just any someone.
Perfect. I’m cursed. And yeah, I know first impressions with a “coach” are supposed to matter.
Set the tone. But whatever. Things with Carrie already started off wrong, and I’m pretty sure what’s about to happen next can only make things worse. I take a deep breath in. Here goes.
“Take a seat,” the girl, Maddie, coos as she hands me my change. “I’ll bring it over in just a second.”
I’m tempted to tell her I’m happy to wait so she doesn’t get near Carrie… But she’s already heading straight for the coffeepot. Great!
When I get back to the table empty-handed, Carrie frowns.
“What’s the holdup?”
“The server says she’ll bring it over.”
“Since when does this place do table service? I come here all the time, and—”
“How are we all doing today?” Maddie slides the tray in front of me, her eyes sparkling.
At least I remember her name. Small wins and all that. I watch her give Carrie a quick once-over, and she seems to relax.
“Just holler if you need anything else, Donny!”
“Thanks!”
I shoot her a forced smile as she turns on her heel, and I glance over at Carrie, squaring my shoulders, readying myself for a showdown.
“ ‘Donny’?” She bangs her forehead on the table. “Unreal.”
“Want a membership card to the fan club? We call them the Donnies,” I say, unable to resist. Riling her up is just too easy.
Slowly, she lifts her head, looking at me as if I’m offering her a polished turd.
In response, I grab a doughnut from the plate, squash it flat, and eat it in one bite.
“Okay, let me explain this with small words,” she says, tapping a finger under her chin. “If that girl is a Donny, then I’m one of these doughnuts. Full of fat, sugar, GMOs—basically everything a high-level athlete like you shouldn’t be touching.”
“But I love doughnuts,” I counter, spinning it around in my hand. “In fact, I find it very interesting you chose that example. I’m really starting to think you’re flirting with me.”
“Why are you saying that?” She frowns.
I slowly slide my finger into the doughnut’s hole.
“Oh, absolutely not.” She slaps the doughnut off my hand. “Please tell me you didn’t just…”
Her expression is so appalled, a full-on belly laugh bubbles out of me.
“For the love of God, someone make it stop,” she growls. “You are a disgusting human being.”