by Laura Ward
Darren watched me with his head cocked to the side. “Seriously, Jules. Are you really making fun of some dude’s short arms?”
He gestured to his lap, and I winced. Fuckity-fuck-fuck. Why did I go with the T. Rex joke? I did not think through that excuse very well.
Darren’s cerebral palsy had left him paralyzed from the waist down. One of his hands was bent at an odd angle with fingers that clenched tightly shut. When he spoke, he could be hard to understand, as the CP affected the muscles around his mouth as well. But how Darren looked and talked had never mattered to me. He was the funniest person I knew, and he was smart as a whip. He was my friend, and I loved him just as he was. His imperfect body never crossed my mind.
I scrunched my nose and pursed my lips. “I’m sorry you got a bitch for a buddy. If you want to ditch me, I get it.” I had waited a full year to be assigned a Good Buddy from our sorority’s community service project. My best friends Taren and Lex had been matched with their buddies, William and Stacy, at the beginning of our sophomore year of college. When our senior sorority sister realized there weren’t enough buddy matches for sisters, I was stuck doing paperwork. Finally, right before the start of my junior year, I was assigned to Darren Hanover.
Darren was my jam. Like me, he was a total flirt. The ladies loved Darren’s banter and humor. I liked that he could laugh at himself and didn’t take anything in life too seriously. Again, just like me. But what I wasn’t sure about was what Darren got out of the whole experience of being my buddy. Most of the time, I had diarrhea of the mouth and no filter. Zero. I usually said the first thing that came to my mind. Nine times out of ten it was borderline rude. The rest of the time it was straight up inappropriate.
Darren shook his head and his wild red hair flew around him, whipping about in the fall breeze. We were enjoying catching up at an outdoor restaurant in College Park. “Don’t call yourself a bitch. You’re not. You’re just...special.”
I snort-laughed and choked on my soda. Special was putting it nicely. Also, it was ironic, because people often referred to Darren, William, and Stacy as special, but not always in a nice way. To me, the three of them were more real and honest than anyone I’d ever met.
Darren used his stiff arm, his hand curled inward, to drag his bottle of water closer to him. Leaning forward, he drank from his straw. “Have you seen William lately?”
William was Taren’s buddy. He was tall, but huggable like a teddy bear, always wearing a kind smile.
“Yeah, I talked to him a little earlier in the Union before you showed up. He was giving me a hard time for blowing off Corey.”
Darren gave me a knowing grin and nodded. “I like William. He’s good people.”
I chuckled and popped a piece of gum in my mouth. I chewed a lot of gum and drank a lot of diet sodas. Counting every calorie and morsel that entered my mouth was a skill I was taught from an early age. Sure I splurged on junk food once in a while, but most of the time I practiced discipline. I had to bank my calories for my favorite indulgence—cocktails. “So true. William rocks. You know who else agrees with that statement?”
Darren shook his head, his eyes bright and curious.
“Stacy McGee.” I smirked, picturing Stacy. Stacy was a walking, talking rainbow. Her clothes, glasses, purses, makeup, and most importantly personality, were vibrant. It was nothing for her to wear six or seven different colors in a hodgepodge that only ended up making everyone around her a little more joyous.
“Is that so?” Darren wiggled his eyebrows and leaned closer to me.
“Oh, yes,” I lowered my voice as I mimicked him, leaning even closer. “I heard that William and Stacy have been hanging out ever since they met at the bus stop a few weeks ago. They talk on the phone all the time. I think they really like each other. There’s one problem though.”
Darren’s eyebrows bunched together. “What’s that?” Neither Darren nor I were in a serious relationship, so we had to settle for gossiping about the relationships of our friends.
“Stacy’s dad outright refuses to let her date. Ever.” I chewed on my lower lip in distaste. “He doesn’t think people like her should date.” My anger flared at the thought. Judgment came in all forms. There were those who thought people with disabilities, or those born with Down syndrome like Stacy, were incapable of having the same feelings as other people.
People who thought that were nothing but bigoted dickheads.
“Bullshit.” Darren’s face contorted with anger. “Everyone is capable of love. Everyone deserves it.”
“Exactly,” I told him, squeezing my hand over one of his curled fists. Everyone but me, that is.
Darren searched my eyes for so long, I had to break contact. I felt like he could read that last thought as it settled itself back into the recesses of my brain.
“Isn’t that right?” he questioned, challenging me.
“What?” I avoided looking at him, pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about. I gathered our trash and stood to toss it into a nearby wastebasket. When I returned, Darren was still looking at me.
“Have you ever been in love?” Darren pushed a button on his motorized wheelchair to back away from the table. I followed as he led us outside and to the sidewalk.
“Never love, but lots of lust.” I laughed and gently nudged Darren’s shoulder. “That’s the important part, right?”
Darren rolled his eyes up at me. “Do you want to fall in love?”
We crossed Route 1 and headed back onto campus. I thought about how my mom constantly fell in love only to get ditched a few weeks or months later. In theory, love sounded great. In practice, it was messy. I’d cleaned up enough of my mom’s broken hearts to learn that. “Maybe?” I sighed dramatically. “Love is a risk. Lust is easy.”
“And when have you ever done the easy thing? What about that guy who plays in Honor Bound? The one you’re always talking about?”
“Bass boy?” I laughed. “It would never work out. He’s hot, but he’s a musician. Even I know that’s a dead end.”
“Jules.” Darren pressed the stop button on his chair. “Why don’t you take a chance? You could be surprised what might happen if you let someone truly see you.”
I blew out a breath, frustrated. “I’m trying. I want to be loved. I date all the time. They’re just all losers. I won’t waste my time on anyone who isn’t perfect.” I kicked the toe of my shoe against the concrete at my last words. If my mom had taught me one thing, it was to never stop searching for the perfect man. The perfect guy wouldn’t lie. The perfect guy wouldn’t leave.
Darren frowned. “Is your time with me a waste?” His voice was low and when I registered what I had said my stomach roiled.
I kneeled next to him. “No! I didn’t mean that. That’s not what I meant by perfect. You’re perfect just as you are. I love my time with you.”
Darren looked away, and I held my breath, waiting for him to tell me that his time with me was a waste. That I wasn’t worth it. I didn’t mind losing my weekend hookups, but I couldn’t bear to lose Darren. And honestly, I wasn’t sure how I hoped to hang on to his friendship when my mouth did its best to drive him away with stupid comments.
“I think you need to examine your definition of perfection. If you can stop and accept yourself, flaws and all, you might be able to accept a guy who has a few too.” Darren’s voice was gentle.
I looked into his honest brown eyes and waited for him to say more. That he was irritated with me. That I needed to grow up. That I needed to go. That he needed to go. But he didn’t. He only pressed the forward button on his chair proceeding toward the Union.
I walked quickly to catch up with him. As we crossed the mall in the middle of campus, a cute guy in a baseball cap caught my eye as we approached. In answer, I gave him a flirty wave. He crooked his finger in my direction, calling me over to him.
Darren stopped moving and turned his chair around. “Well?” he asked, nodding his head toward the cutie. “Looks like he
wants to talk to you.”
I leaned forward to mutter under my breath. “What do you think?” I turned my gaze toward baseball cap guy. “I mean, the lust levels are off the chart. I’d totally hit that.”
Darren shook his head, smiling at me. “Fine. But this time, give him a decent chance.” He raised his chin in a gesture of goodbye and turned his chair around, heading in the opposite direction at a fast clip.
Mustering my best smile, I turned and introduced myself to Mr. Baseball, hoping he might be the one to break my unlucky streak.
***
Mr. Baseball didn’t break my unlucky streak.
I sipped my Malibu and Coke and looked around The Shell. Neither Taren nor Lex had any interest in hanging at the bar with me tonight, but I was with a large group of sisters from my sorority. Our town’s new favorite band, Honor Bound, was on stage playing and the place was packed.
Marleigh, one of my sisters who was always up for hanging with me at the bar, sat next to me on a stool. Her curly black hair was long and wild, she was gorgeous, and she had the best ass in College Park. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d hate her. The bartender appeared on the other side of the counter and Marleigh signaled for another round.
“I saw a cute guy walk you home this afternoon. Is he meeting you here?” Marleigh and I swiveled our stools around so we faced the crowd, surveying the room as we chatted.
“Nope. He had moobs.” I sucked more of my drink down.
Cute guy. Otherwise known as Mr. Baseball. After a super-hot makeout session on a desk in an empty classroom, I’d invited him to come to The Shell with me tonight. He’d swatted me on the ass and informed me he wasn’t looking for a date, just a hookup. And he’d heard I was the best...Juleasy. He was glad to know the rumors were true and save himself the effort of buying me drinks.
I was glad to inform my sisters he had moobs.
“Moobs?” Marleigh’s expression was one of confusion.
“Man boobs. I would never have guessed. He had good arms, but I’d bet he’d fill out a B cup better than me. No, thank you.”
Marleigh choked on her drink. “You’re too much.” She laughed as she hopped off her stool. With her new drink in hand, she moved onto the dance floor.
I bit the inside of my lip and tried to enjoy the lie as much as she did. It was easier to be Shallow Julie than to undergo an undesirable hookup who didn’t even warrant a night of drinks or a second date.
The band finished their set, and a DJ immediately played a popular pop song to keep everyone dancing. The guys in the band walked to the side of the stage to take a much-needed break. I watched from my spot at the bar as they set their instruments down. The super-hot, but not-my-type-with-that-long-luscious-hair drummer handed the very-much-my-type bass player a bottle of water.
Bass boy had the body of my ideal man. Tall, over six feet, lean but built with fantastic arms. Colorful tattoos covered his biceps and forearms—so freaking hot—and his dark brown hair was cropped close to his head. But he was also a musician and hot as he may be, musicians couldn’t be trusted. Musicians lived life on the road and I had no interest in repeating my mother’s mistakes.
Despite my aversion to band boys, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I watched him drink, his throat moving as he swallowed huge gulps. Oh dear God. He even swallowed like a sexy beast.
Didn’t Darren say that I should give guys a chance? Who’s to say this guy would be anything like my dad? Who’s to say he wasn’t Mr. Right? Or at least Mr. Right Now?
The drummer said something to bass boy, which made him throw his head back in laughter. Holy hell. He had dimples. And tattoos. Lots of tattoos that I wanted to see up close. I’d been crushing on this guy for months. Why was I denying myself a chance to meet him?
I made up my mind. I was going to follow Darren’s advice. Time to kick my flirt into high gear and get him to notice me.
I pushed off my stool and walked closer to the stage where the band stood, cooling down from their set. I moved into my crush’s line of vision, smiling and waving my fingers at him. He stared back, his face unflinching. Then he turned his back to me to talk to his bandmates.
What the hell? Not even a nod of acknowledgment? That was rude.
I stood at the edge of the stage, dumbly staring at bass boy’s back when the drummer finally noticed me.
“Groupie alert,” luscious locks said, taking a swig of his water. “I don’t think she’s going to leave until she talks to you, Ben.”
Groupie? Was he talking about me? I mean yeah, I was trying to talk to Ben, but I wasn’t a pathetic groupie.
Ben shrugged and ran his hand over his short, dark hair. “Can you take care of it for me? I’m not looking to slum around with a girl who probably doesn’t even know my name.”
Slum around? My stomach twisted uncomfortably with shame. And what did he mean about taking care of it? Why couldn’t he turn me down himself? And why turn me down at all? He hadn’t even met me yet.
“Come on.” Luscious locks gripped Ben by the shoulder. “Maybe she likes you for your music.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he started laughing.
Ben huffed in disgust and shook his head. “I’m not interested in girls I meet in bars.” He took another gulp of water and reached out to push his drummer toward the back of the stage. “Come on, man. I don’t want to stand around talking about other people’s sloppy seconds. I need to get something to eat. Lead the way.”
First I was a groupie, and now I was sloppy seconds?
The burn of rejection stung, and the harshness of his words hit me square in the chest. I knew there were rumors about me, some even deserved, but that comment went beyond rejection. It was cruel. I stumbled backward on my sky-high heels, trying to shake loose the feeling that I’d just been weighed and measured, only to be found unworthy. He didn’t even give me a chance.
And what was worse, for the first time I was ashamed of myself.
I wanted to leave. I couldn’t stay and party and act like he hadn’t called out all my insecurities with one, truthful dismissal. I placed my drink on the bar and hurried toward the exit like my ass was on fire.
Once I was outside, the crisp fall air lashed around me, making me aware of how much bare skin I was advertising tonight.
Bass boy Ben. Nikki always told me to stay away from musicians. They were only faithful to their music. The band always came first, and they would eventually leave.
I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin high as I walked down the sidewalk toward the sorority house. Low whistles and sounds of appreciation followed in my wake and with each step, I forced confidence back in my spine.
Bass boy Ben.
Another man I didn’t need.
They could all go fuck themselves. I’d find Mr. Right somewhere else. My perfect man was waiting for me.
I knew it.
Chapter Two
Julie
The polished wood grain was smooth underneath my fingertips. I skimmed the surface and wrapped my hands around the warm base of my coffee cup. Blowing air on the top layer cooled it enough that I could sip without scalding my tongue.
The sisters of the Gamma Gamma Gamma sorority bustled around me. Two were stretched out on the floor of the adjoining chapter room, following the instructor of a Pilates video. In our kitchen where I sat nursing my cup of caffeinated heaven, three other large round tables had girls seated, eating breakfast or cramming for an upcoming exam. I was sitting alone, thinking. Brooding.
“Morning, Sunshine.” Taren sat next to me with a bowl of cereal. Her long light brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail. She wore an Acroletes sweatshirt, proudly advertising her boyfriend’s high energy, and quite dangerous if you asked me, gymnastic troupe. Taren took a bite of cereal and chewed, her eyes narrowing as she studied me.
“What?” Jesus, that came out bitchy, even for me. “Sorry,” I added, trying to ease my surly tone, “I’m just a little hangry.” I pushed away from the t
able and walked to the breakfast bar. Filling my mug, I added sugar-free sweetener and grabbed a banana before returning to the table.
Taren spooned another bite into her mouth, her eyes wide, and eyebrows lifted toward her hairline. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “What’s up?” she asked.
Shrugging, I decided I’d rather eat my fruit than confess the events of the previous night. I peeled the banana skin away and shoved a large bite in my mouth, chewing aggressively.
“Seriously, you’re worrying me. Every morning you’re as chipper as a stripper on payday. Today you look like hell.” She waved her hand from the top of my head down to my feet.
My eyes followed her progression in reverse. Sneakers, jeans, and a Raven’s t-shirt were today’s attire. I patted the top of my head. I had grown my dark brown hair out, and it now reached my shoulders. My hair was brushed. Not clean, but I’d sprayed a little dry shampoo in there. What was the issue?
After another bite of banana, I stared my best friend down. “Like hell?” I repeated. “Me?” I lifted my eyebrows saucily trying to give her the fun-loving, sassy attitude she was used to.
She pushed her cereal bowl into the middle of the table and folded her hands in front of her. “Okay, Jules. Do you have class today?”
I swallowed my banana. I hated bananas. Why was I eating this? Right. Bananas are low calorie. “Yeah. At eleven.”
“And you’re ready for it?” Taren asked, leaning closer to me.
My eyebrows pinched together. “Spit it out. What’s wrong with how I look?” My heart was beating faster in my chest and heat flooded my cheeks. I was not in the mood for more judgment. Not from my best friend.
