Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(47)

“I know what you mean.” My chest warms. “Thank you. I did enjoy it.” My mind is turning in circles, thinking about what he said. “But I don’t really like kids that much.”

He laughs. “Seriously? How much time have you spent around kids?”

“Not much,” I admit. “I babysat a little in high school.”

“Well, you could try it. Or you could teach high school.”

I picture that and, surprisingly, I find this idea ridiculously appealing.

“The class you like the most is psychology,” he says. “What else would you take if you could take anything? What were your favorite subjects in school?”

“Not physics.” He smiles at my joke. “Um, I loved history and geography. I’d love to travel and see the places I learned about. Especially Europe.”

“Yeah. That would be cool.”

I stare into the distance and my stomach knots up. The weight of the unfathomable physics and chemistry suddenly seems unbearable. Like I’ve reached the point where I just can’t do it anymore.

And even if I do, it’ll be for what? My parents will still be disappointed in me. I’m never going to get a full scholarship to Harvard. Even if I had the marks, I need to do some kind of extra-curricular medical work. I love what I’m doing at SAPAP, but I don’t think that’s going to cut it to get into medical school. I know this and yet haven’t made any efforts to find something appropriate.

A teacher. What would my parents think of that?

And should I care?

I do care what my parents think. Of course I want their approval. Is that wrong? Or do I need to grow up and make my own decisions?

“What if…” I hesitate. “What if I change my major and my parents decide they’re not going to foot the bill for a prestigious college just so I can be a teacher?”

His eyes go shadowy. “You think they’d do that?”

I shrug. “It’s definitely possible.”

“Well.” He shoves a hand into his hair. “I guess there are other options. Student loans, maybe?”

“Another part-time job.” I grimace. “Or switching schools.”

Our eyes meet and his face is somber. “That would suck.”

My stomach feels like a knotted-up ball of yarn. “Yeah, it kind of would.” I’m thinking about him, which is stupid because I know he wants to be drafted this year and might not even be back next year. There is no way in hell I should be making decisions about my future based on him. Especially since we are fake dating.

“I need to think about it,” I tell him. “But…thanks, Jacob.”

He nods. “Okay. Let’s see if we can get another hour of work in. If we do, we can reward ourselves with donuts.”

“You brought donuts?”

“Yep.”

“Oooh, you devil. You know my weaknesses.”

“Donuts, coffee, cherry Kool-Aid, and chocolate-covered almonds.”

I blink down at my book. Wow. He does know me.

—

Thursday night is Halloween and we’re going to a sorority party. Jacob was enthusiastic about a costume for the party, but he was determined we should go as a couple. We looked at some Pinterest pictures for inspiration. Neither of us wanted to spend a lot of money, so here we are dressed as a Hawaiian vacation couple.

A trip to the dollar store the other day loaded us up with leis and flowery necklaces, which we’re both wearing. I’ve got a fake flower in my hair and I’m wearing a cheap grass skirt over a pair of tight running shorts, with a bright pink bikini top. Jacob is wearing shorts with a wildly colored, tropical-flowered shirt open over his bare chest. My heart gives an extra beat at how hot he looks.

His eyes warm as he studies my costume. “You look sexy, babe.”

“Thanks. So do you. But we’re going to freeze.”

He laughs. “Wear a warm coat. It’ll probably be warm at the party.”

“Probably.”

The party is crazy. Music is blasting when we walk in—“Spooky Scary Skeletons.” The house is dark and packed with bodies in all kinds of costumes, some cute, some sexy, some downright terrifying.

I edge closer to Jacob. “I hate it when I can’t recognize people. It creeps me out.”

“Hey.” He slides his arm around me. “S’okay, baby, I’m here with you.” He gives my waist a squeeze that reassures me.

The music changes to “Monster Mash.” Jacob grins and grabs my hand and pulls me toward a bunch of people dancing.

My eyes go wide. We’ve never danced together in the weeks we’ve been fake dating. Taking both my hands in his, he pulls me near, then steps back.

“Hey, you know how to dance.”

His grin goes wicked. “You know I do, baby.”

We find the rhythm and he spins me around into his arms, then back out. Our eyes meet and we share a smile. My head starts bopping as I get into the beat of the music. The song ends too quickly, my heart beating a little faster, my skin warming.

“See, no worries about freezing.” Jacob touches a finger to my cleavage in the bikini top through the layers of leis.

“Nope.”

“The Time Warp” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show is playing now. With shouts of delight, people swarm the makeshift dance floor. Jacob and I laugh and move to the music as people crowd around us, singing along with the song, yelling out the chorus with big arm movements. I shake my hips and do a circle with my hands in the air, and when I face Jacob his lips curve with amusement and his eyes blaze. He gives me a nod of approval as he moves in perfect time to the music.