The Deal(135)

The first opportunity arises when I pop into the Coffee Hut to grab a hot chocolate. It’s snowing like a bitch outside, and I stomp the snow off my boots on the mat by the door before heading for the back of the line. That’s when I notice that the guy in front of me looks familiar. When he places his order and moves to the pick-up counter, I get a flash of his profile and realize it’s Jimmy. Jimmy…what’s his last name again? Pauley? No, Paulson. Jimmy Paulson from British Lit and the Sigma party. Perfect. We’ve got history. We’re practically in a relationship.

“Jimmy, hey,” I greet him after I order my drink and join him at the counter.

He visibly stiffens at the sound of my voice. “Oh. Hey.” His gaze darts around the coffee shop, as if he doesn’t want anyone to see us talking.

“So, listen,” I start, “I was just thinking, we haven’t really talked since that party back in October…”

The barista plops a foam cup in front of Jimmy, who snatches it up so fast I don’t even see his hand move.

I hurry on. “I thought it would be nice to catch up and…”

He’s already edging away from me. Jesus, why does he look so terrified? Does he think I’m going to shiv him or something?

“…I was wondering if maybe you want to grab a coffee sometime,” I finish.

“Oh.” He inches farther away. “Uh. Thanks for the offer, but…uh, yeah, I don’t drink coffee.”

I stare at the coffee cup in his hand.

He follows my gaze and gulps. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m…meeting someone…all the way on the other side of the campus and it’s…uh, far, so I’m kind of in a hurry.”

Well, at least he’s not lying about being in a hurry—because he flies out the door like an Olympic sprinter.

Okay, that was…weird.

Frowning, I get my hot chocolate and go outside, heading in the direction of Bristol House. It’s slow going because the snow is falling faster than the campus maintenance crews can shovel it, and my boots sink into two feet of it every time I take a step. But the forced leisurely pace allows me to encounter another element of weirdness. When I was dating Garrett, people said hello and waved to me all the time. Today, everyone I pass seems to be going out of their way to avoid me, particularly the guys.

Is this what disgraced Amish people feel like when they’ve been shunned? Because everyone is looking right through me, and I don’t like it.

I also don’t understand it.

As I make my way to the dorms, I decide to give Dexter a call and see if he wants to go out tonight. Maybe to Malone’s—no, wait, Garrett might be there. Another bar in town, then. Or the college rec hall. Anywhere I might be able to meet a guy.

I approach Bristol just as opportunity number two exits the building next door. It’s Justin, and unlike the rest of the world, he actually lifts his hand in a wave.

I wave back, mostly out of relief that someone looks happy to see me.

“Hey, stranger,” he calls, making his way over to me.

He’s sporting that rumpled, rolled-out-of-bed hair, and yet I don’t find it so adorable anymore. It just makes him look like a slob. Or maybe a phony, because I’m pretty sure I can see gel in his hair, which means he must’ve taken the time to create the I-don’t-care style. Which makes him a f*cking liar.

I meet him halfway. “Hey. How was your break?”

“Good. Not much rain in Seattle this time of year, so I had to settle for a shit ton of snow instead. Went snowboarding, skiing, hot-tubbing. Fun times.” Justin’s dimples pop out, and they do nothing for me.

But…hell, he’s the only guy who’s so much as looked my way today. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?

“Sounds fun. Um, so—”

Nope.

Nope, nope, nope. Just…nope.

I can’t go there. Not with this guy. Garrett helped me make Justin jealous back in October. I canceled a date with him when I realized I wanted to be with Garrett. And I know how much Garrett dislikes Justin.

There’s no way I can open this Justin door, not just because my feelings for him are non-existent, but because it would be like sticking a knife in Garrett’s chest.

“So hi,” I finish. “Yeah…I just came over to say hi.” I hold up my hot chocolate cup as if it’s somehow a part of this conversation. “I’m going inside to drink this. Good to see you.”