She wants to say yes. I can see it in her eyes. Just like that, all the blood in my veins run south. A problem I can't seem I'm to get rid of since that damn kiss. Random erections are normal in men but random erections when thinking about one particular person is beginning to become a cause for concern. It doesn't help matters that I haven't gotten laid in almost a month. There was plenty of opportunities at Dante's party-Sabine was laying it on pretty thick the entire time, even joining me in the shower without my approval. But it didn't feel right banging another chick with Lorraine across the hall.
Scratch that.
It didn't feel right banging a chick that's not Lorraine.
And f*ck, having her is all I can think about. It's all I could think about since the last time we spoke. I haven't been this obsessed about getting a chick in my bed before. If it were any other chick, I would have made a move by now and the sex would have happened.
It would be easy. It really would. She seems like she hasn't been with a lot of guys. It would be easy to get her to want to have sex with me because I have an inkling she's into it-it's the only reasonable explanation for that kiss.
However she doesn't peg me for the friends with benefits type and I'm, for one, not looking for a relationship.
The one thing I'm willing to commit to at the moment is basketball and making sure I get drafted. I can't afford to be distracted by relationships and all the drama that comes with them. I realised that in the middle of painting myself blue so that I can be the Cookie Monster. I can't be the guy who paints himself blue for a girl. So I ignored her the whole ride and kissed the last person I shouldn't be caught dead kissing. It was a d*ck move kissing Alexis back with the sophomore present. It was a f*cking dumb move that should have never happened but it was the one thing I could think of that would push her away.
It worked. For a while at least. Turned out in all I could think about in the last 48 hours was the sophomore and the kiss. That damn kiss felt like the rightest thing in the world even with the horrible timing it had. Walking away was one of the hardest things I've had to do. But like Bronte said it needed to be done. It would have done more damage than good. It'd be pretty selfish of me to have sex with a girl who I'm a hundred per cent sure was having a momentary lapse in judgement. That wouldn't have been hot, happy sex. It would have been angry sex. And I don't want our first time to be something the sophomore would have to regret after.
First time?
There isn't going to be a first time. The sooner I realise that the better. Lorraine's different. And the thought of hurting her more than I already have makes me feel physically sick. She deserves better. She deserves more than I can offer her.
Despite everything here, I am getting a kick out of watching her f*cking eat. I could have ignored her message-it was a mistake. But after being with her for the better part of the weekend and not seeing her for almost three days after, I was dying for that message. I never thought I'd say this but I'm glad I listened to Ryan every time he was being a know it all maths wiz.
She takes a sip of her Fanta to avoid my question, her gaze shifting towards the girl who's now settling with her food on the table right next to us. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat-almost as if she's terrified the girl's going to pounce on her. I find myself turning to look at the girl.
Brunette. Blue eyes. Rocking body. She's good looking-if we ignore the nasty look currently directed at the sophomore. I turn back to Lorraine, a scowl making its way to my face. The girl is making Lorraine feel uncomfortable and my first instinct is to grab the sophomore and get out of here. Just like she did at the library.
It took a second for it to make sense to me but once it did, I don't hold back.
"What happened at the library?" I ask again this time determined to get the truth out of her.
"I already said nothing-"
"Don't lie to me, Lorraine." I cut her off before she can complete her sentence. Lorraine sighs and runs her hand through her hair.
"There is no point talking about it." She said. She picks at her kimchi playfully reminding me that I'm letting my food get cold. But I don't care about the food. Not when I have a feeling I sat there with her and had no clue a bunch of girls made her feel uncomfortable enough for her to want to leave the building.
"There is. If people are making you feel uncomfortable for being around me, I want to know." It's frustrating that she shuts me out every time sh*t like this happens.
"No one is-" Lorraine begins but she must have thought better of whatever she's about to say because she shakes her head "never mind."
"Talk to me," I say which I know is hypocritical coming from me. I have no right to know anything about her when I'm trying everything to keep her from knowing me. In the silence that follows I can tell Lorraine thinks the same. She drops her chopsticks and directs angry chocolate eyes at me.
"Isn't it obvious Charlie?" I stay mute because I know interrupting would only keep her from talking. "You're an NCAA Division I basketball player who is on the path to being drafted. You're one of the best players this school has seen and your life has social importance. I'm just a second-year journalism student repeating freshman stat whilst trying to survive an internship. And you insinuated on live TV that I slept with you for an article. So of course every time we're in a room together, your fangirls make me feel uncomfortable." She sighs as if to collect herself "You get to walk around with your perfect life like nothing's happened and every time I walk into a room of people I don't know, I wonder if they see me as the girl from the Charlie Murtaugh interview."
"My life isn't perfect," I tell her.
"Well isn't it?" She blinks repeatedly "you're a popular jock. You've got a lot of friends. Everyone loves you. You can get any girl you want despite being the biggest d*ck in Los Angeles."
"Athlete. Popularity wasn't by choice. Five friends. If I play my cards right, I'll get a girl. And that last statement is subjective." I correct. "Your definition of perfection needs some serious tweaking princess."
"Why do you say that?" She asks, a grim look on her face.
"Your judgement of my "perfection" I air quote "is based solely on the sh*t you've either seen, heard or made up in that pretty little head of yours. Yes, I fit a certain stereotype but does that make my life perfect?"
"Of course not. It must be so difficult strutting through life knowing everything is going to come easy to you because you throw a ball in a basket." She marvels, sarcasm dripping from her words.
"You think that's all basketball is about?" I lean back in my seat once again because I'm mad at her statement. She doesn't reply which gives me my answer "you don't know what you're saying sophomore."
"Admit it. People like you get it easy-"
"Woah, woah...people like me?"
"Jocks-athletes. sports guy. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. You get it so easy. And you talk others down like they don't matter. The first time that I met you, you called me a no-name intern-" my chest clenches at the look in her eyes. She looks as annoyed as I feel for saying something so hurtful she still remembers "-I just thought college would be different. But it's not. There's always going to be people like you and your little girlfriend to remind me that I'm not good enough."
"She's not my girlfriend." I blow out a breath. She's upset and I know I shouldn't probe at her words but I can't help it. "People like me?" I repeat interest piqued. What I've said to her has reminded her of something in her past and it makes me sick to think that I'm a constant reminder of whatever traumatic sh*t she went through whilst giving her the illusion that I'm perfect.
"Forget it." She says stiffly "it's just..." she sticks her chopsticks in her pad Thai aggressively "just forget it."
Frustration settles on my shoulders. "I'm not perfect, sophomore." I begin but she rolls her eyes and shakes her head sarcastically. "I read your article-" that seemed to catch her attention because beautiful brown eyes look up at me in utter shock.
"You did?" She sounds surprised.
"At first I wasn't going to because I was so pissed-well to be fair, I was f*cking terrified." My throat closes up with a nervous laugh.
"Of what?"
"That the world found out about how I was so coked up I ran myself into a tree." There's a moment of tense silence and my shoulders go rigid. Her eyes widen slowly as she digests my words. I didn't want to continue talking. It took me months to f*cking speak about this at therapy. But I know there's no going back now "At that interview, it was all I could think about. It was-" I pause "-I was filled with rage and fear and I know it's no excuse for painting you out to be what you're not but the thought of everyone finding out...it scared me. And I do and say stupid sh*t when I'm angry and scared."
My entire life, I've had to work to keep my temper in check. It was hard. Growing up, anger was all I had. It was the only emotion I had with nowhere to channel it until I started playing basketball.
"After the interview," I continue. "When I read the article and found out it only confirmed my accident and not what happened, it was too late. There was no way for me to clean up the mess I made. You already hate me-"
"I don't hate you-"
"You do-"
"That kiss wouldn't have happened if I did," She says softly, her shoulders rising in a slight shrug "I do think you're a giant asshole but I don't hate you. I get that your reaction was from a place of fear-and I was the one who promised not to write about your accident but at the end of the day, all I wanted was for you to stand up for me when it blew up on the internet. You should have spoken up. You should have cleared it up as a-" Lorraine's voice shakes and I feel my chest tighten.
"I know." My gaze switches to hers but she looks away. It made me realise just how much of a jerk I've been to this girl. She doesn't deserve it. "Lorraine," I call softly but she shakes her head. She hangs her head low like she's holding back tears and I can literally feel my heart sliver in my chest. My first instinct is to run. To stay away because I've done enough damage. But before I know it, I'm sitting beside her and cupping her face "f*ck Lorraine, I'm sorry." I say.
I say it not because she's crying but because I f*cking mean it from the bottom of my heart. She sniffles in and nods against my hands. "I-I'm sorry."
"No. Don't apologise. I'm the asshole. I'm the one that should apologise. I'm sorry. I'm so f*cking sorry Lor."
Lorraine rests her head on my chest, small, quiet sobs ripping out of her body. I did this to her. I f*cking made her cry. So d I did the only thing I could do. Hold her and promised myself I'd never make her cry again.
***
"Chicken pad Thai to go." I announce as I slide behind the driver's seat of my car with two packed bags of Korean food. We didn't end up eating our food and Parker offered to pack it away for us-going as far as adding some extras for Lorraine and I. I told him to give her my extras. The least I can do is feed her after making her f*cking cry.
"Thank you." She says with a small smile as she collects the brown bag from me. I turn to drop the second bag in the backseat "you know, you didn't have to pay for me. I had it."
"I'd ask you to Venmo the money back to me but that'd only make me an asshole." I mock pulling the strap of my seatbelt. I glance at her and motion towards hers "belt, princess."
She rolls her eyes but complies. Once she's done, she looks over at me. "I also could have called myself a cab home."
"Do you want me to kick you out?"
"No."
"Then shut up." I say with a sigh and she smiles as I pull out of the parking. The car ride is pretty silent. But it wasn't in that uncomfortable, awkward way. It was more of a laid back-waiting for someone to ask a question type of silence. Well mostly because I know the sophomore is dying to ask me questions. I can tell by the way she keeps on glancing at me every now and then "Come on, out with it sophomore," She averts my gaze awkwardly and I roll my eyes "you might as well ask while I'm being nice to you. Opportunity comes only once."
Lorraine angles her body to me "Are you clean?"
I admire the fact that she went straight for it. A lot of people wouldn't have the balls to even though they'd be dying to know.
"What do you think?" I glance at her.
"I'd think it'd be f*cking stupid not to be. But you were just explaining the law of mathematics to me so I have a feeling you're not that stupid."
I smile. She's right. I'd be pretty f*cking stupid if I went near that shit again. It almost ruined my life. God gave me a second chance. "18 months clean." I smirk "not the dumb jock you think I am."
"Thank God," She let's out a heavy sigh of relief "I'm glad I don't have to kick your ass."
"You think you can kick my ass? What are you going to do, stab me with your makeup pencil?"
"You mean eyebrow pencil. And no. I'm pretty sure you can crush me with your pinkie," she glances at my hand on the steering wheel "look at the size of that thing. Your hands are huge."
I flex my free hand like I'm noticing how large it is for the first time. The way that I've been created and proportioned made basketball the most persuading sport for me to play. "Well, you know what they say about guys with large hands."
"That they've got a hard time finding decent sized gloves?" She says with a smirk.
"Ha. ha." I deadpan even though I like that she's getting sassy contrary to when we were at young's when she was all serious and sad. Which reminded of one question I had "So what's with the 'people like you' statement?"
She goes quiet and I instantly regret asking. When Lorraine doesn't speak for a second I think she's going to ignore me. "I was diagnosed with selective mutism when I was 5." I'm shocked by her statement. She sucks in a breath. "When I started kindergarten, I found it hard to communicate with my classmates and teachers. My parents and teachers thought it was just the nervousness of starting school and decided to wait it out. But the longer they waited, the worst it became. It was so shocking because I was a real talkative at home but when I got out of the house, it was an entirely different story. Eventually, my parents had to take me to see a speech and language therapist who helped me-well sort of. I never really got over it. I find it hard to talk to new people so let's just say that didn't make for a smooth sailing high school experience."
I didn't know what to say but I can't help the flame of anger that burst out in the pit of my stomach. She didn't have to say it but I heard it loud and clear. She was bullied in highschool-by people like me. Jocks. And my actions ever since I met her must have made her feel like sh*t and reminded her of the past.
She swallows "It took me two months to open up to my friends after I moved to college." She explains "they were really patient with me and it's the only reason why I haven't made any other friend."
That explains why guys on campus think she's hard to speak to. It's not that she doesn't want to talk to people, it's that she finds it hard to.
"And out of all the majors. You chose journalism-"
"I know. That was pretty stupid. My parents thought I was setting myself up to fail-"
"It's pretty f*cking brave sophomore. Not a lot of people have got the balls to challenge themself in that way." My voice is hoarse as we come up to the street that leads to her complex. It must have taken a lot of courage for her to come up to me to ask for an interview. And I called her a no-name intern and put her down. Even went as far as to playing a f*cking game for her to be my fake girlfriend. And now she thinks she's not enough. I'm a f*cking bully. "I read your article. You're a brilliant writer sophomore. You'll be crazy if you let me or anyone make you feel otherwise."
"I don't need a pity compliment Charlie. I don't need you feeling sorry for me." She swallows again.
"I know I've said a lot of awful things but that's because I'm an idiot not because I mean them. It's not an excuse but it explains a lot." I admit "This is not a pity compliment. It's the truth. I promise."
Her eyes widen slightly at the sincerity in my voice. And God. She looks so beautiful. Sitting there in the passengers seat with the moonlight highlighting her face.
"Thank you." She whispers.
My ringtone cuts through the air before I can tell her how f*cking beautiful she looks. I let out a long, unsteady breath as I answer my phone.
"B, what's up? Oh, shit, I forgot about that...I got practice in the morning. Yeah, till 10...I know...uh uhn...uh-huh. okay, I'll pick her up tonight." I let out a sigh as I pull up in front of Lorraine's complex "Something's come up for Bronte so I gotta pick up Mila and find a sitter who's willing to wake up by 6 in the morning." I inform Lorraine as she unbelts herself.
"You know I could take her. If you don't mind." Lorraine offers.
I furrow my brows "No. I can't bother you with that."
"Are you kidding?" She shakes her head "I want to see her. My friends have an early class tomorrow so it'd be just us till they come back and then we could all order some waffles from Bru's and binge Doc Mcstuffins or that old Pixie emotions movie I've always wanted to watch."
"Are you sure?" I slant my head.
"100 percent." She climbs out of the car "but drop her off in the morning. It's late. Juggling her around at this time could make her tired in the morning."
"What's your rate?" I ask picking up my phone for my Venmo as she shuts the car door. I wind down the window.
"You can't afford it." She says, reminding me of the message I sent earlier. Feels like I sent that message a lifetime ago. So much has happened. It makes me grin which in turn makes her grin too "plus it'd make me an asshole and Mila already has one for an uncle."
"Touché."
"Thanks for the food...and the ride. See you in the morning." She double taps the window before turning to leave.
I wait for her to get into her complex before driving off. For the first time, I feel like the energy between the sophomore and has changed. It weirdly felt good.