“Chromosomes are located in a nucleus in which of the following? Viruses, prokaryotes, and/or eukaryotes.”
I roll my eyes. “Eukaryotes.”
Crystal shakes her head. “I think it’s both prokaryotes and eukaryotes.”
Logan says, “Nope. Sarah is right.” He shuts his book. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m beat. Can we call it a night?”
Crystal starts gathering her things. Logan glances over at me. “Not leaving, Red?”
“Nah, go on. I’m going to look over some of these things a little more. I’ll see you both in class tomorrow.”
Crystal mouths a thank-you to me, and I just nod. I know she’s got the hots for Logan. And honestly, if I were ready to risk my heart and was confident that I could manage a relationship, I’d have the hots for him too. He’s got bright green eyes and bleach-blond hair. The kind that’s so perfect you’d swear he got it professionally done. Turns out he doesn’t, it’s just good, ole natural sunlight and genes.
After they both leave, I push some of my bangs from my face and pore over my notes. I can honestly say since my parents have been sentenced to jail, and I was virtually left homeless and alone, I’ve never studied or worked harder in my entire life. If Madison hadn’t helped me and encouraged me through our daily FaceTime chats over the summer, I would have never given college a try. She studied with me day and night until I took my entry test. Yes, I go to a crap college that only offers a two-year degree, but Madison says it’s a start. And she’s right. It’s a start for the hard work to come.
I have a vague clue at what I want to major in, but people tell me it could change. I’m leaning toward nursing. Again, it could change. Maybe I’ll find out the hard way I don’t have a knack for it or something.
I read a question, close my eyes, and answer it. When I open my eyes, a wall of muscles startles me. A glittery smile greets me, along with the most stunning blue-green eyes I’ve ever seen. “Sorry to scare you. I was wondering if I could join you?”
“Uh … yeah, sure.”
He extends a hand to me. I shake it, and his smile widens. “I’m Tucker.”
“Sarah.”
I’m mesmerized by him. His golden hair lays in perfect waves. He takes a seat and pulls some books out of his backpack. “I have to confess something.”
I blink. “Oh. What’s that?”
“I’ve been watching you with your group for a half hour now and was waiting for them to leave before coming over here.”
Okay, if I wasn’t totally digging his smile and sexy features, I’d think it was creepy as hell that he’s been watching me. I laugh. “Why did you wait until my friends left?”
“I was making sure that dude in your group wasn’t your boyfriend.”
I nod. “And what if I said he was?”
Tucker cocks his head to the side. “I’d call bullshit. Because no one would leave a girlfriend as fine as you here. While walking another girl not even close to your hotness level out the door. That’s a fact.”
My face heats. “In that case, Logan isn’t my boyfriend. Just a study partner.”
“But … ”
“Nothing.”
He leans back in his chair. “Not dating anyone?”
I shake my head, although my stomach knots at my response. I shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t even feel any kind of guilt whatsoever. Graham pushed me away. Yes, I know I deserve his hatred. But he’s the one who’s provoking me, showing up at my work, harassing me about my social life, and worse, telling me how wet he makes me. Asshole. Yes, it’s safe to say I shouldn’t even think about Graham ever again.
Tucker smiles. “May I see your phone?”
“Um … sure.” I slide the jeweled case over to him. He begins tapping his thumbs against my screen, and then I hear a loud buzzing sound.
He hands my phone back to me and then pulls his own from his front pocket. He taps away at his own screen again and says, “Now you have my number, and I have yours.”
I have no idea how to respond to this. On one hand, I want to say, “I didn’t want your number.” On the other, I want to gush and say, “Thanks.” But that makes me sound rather desperate, right? So I simply nod and try not to look as stupid as I suddenly feel.
We talk for a little bit longer, and then I push the middle button on the bottom of my phone. The screen lights up with the time. “Oh. I have to go. I’m sorry.”
“No worries. I should get back too.”
We both end up leaving the library together but go our separate ways from there. As I go left, he goes right, and I glance back at him, but he’s not looking back at me.
Chapter Seven
Graham
“How are the meetings?” my mom asks.
It’s the same question every damn time she sees me. So I give her the same response—a shrug. “Just a bunch of alcoholics talking about their mistakes, Mom. Not really much more than that.”
She gives me a worried glance. “Are you learning, or are you sitting back and just riding out your time?”
I glare at her. Is she kidding me? I’d like to see her sit in class Monday through Friday listening to the same shit over and over again. What could I possibly learn? Dude, don’t be a fucking asshat and drink and drive. Don’t steal vehicles. And if you’re so broke you can’t feed your family, don’t blow your last ten dollars on some booze. It’s all just laws of right and wrong mashed in with common sense. Yeah, I think we’re good. “I’m learning that some people are fucking stupid and shouldn’t have a license at all,” I gripe.
“Graham!”
“What?”
She shakes her head. “Never mind. Just go.”
I walk out the door because there is no more to really say. Once these damn hours and classes are up, I’m out of this hellhole.
Slipping into my car, I drive off. I keep telling myself not to go there. Not to try talking to her. But I pull into the grocery store parking lot and walk inside. I’ll just get a drink. I’m not seeing her. She’s like my own personal drug, and I don’t need a fix. But since I’m already here …
She’s not, though. I roam the aisles for an hour just to make sure she’s not on break. And when I get up to the counter, some girl named Michelle is scanning my Pepsi. She gives me the once-over with a smile. “You’re that guy … the one who likes Sarah Bells?”
Sarah Bells? “What?”
She laughs. “It’s my nickname for Sarah. Anyway, you’re the complication, right?”
I fight back the urge to smile because, holy shit, she talks about me. Boom. “I’m the what?”
“The complication. The guy she likes but can’t ask out because it’s complicated. I watched you look through the whole store. Couldn’t find something—or should I say someone—this morning?”
I sigh. “All right, I’ll bite. Where is she?”
“School,” she says airily, as if it’s nothing new. “She has classes until three, then she comes in here at four, works until eight, then goes home and studies. That’s her typical Monday, Wednesday, and Friday routine.”
Well, this girl is just a fountain of information. “What’s she studying?”
“She’s looking into nursing.”
“So she’s not seeing anyone?”
She lifts her right eyebrow. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you two or the weird past you might have, but you should know she’s the nicest person in the world. So if you break her heart, mister, I’ll be the first person to hunt you down and cut off your balls. Got me?”
“That didn’t really answer my question. But yeah. Sure.” I take my drink and step away from her counter.
“She’s not,” Michelle calls out as I make my way to the exit.
Sarah’s going for nursing. Wow. I thought for sure she’d be at beauty school, or preparing to be a fashion designer. And before you call me sexist or something, let me explain. High-school Sarah, the girl I dated, would always comment on my clothes. She’d pick out my outfit bef
ore I dropped her off at her house. Or we’d video chat before bed, and she’d tell me what to wear. She literally made me show her my closet. She bought me different styling gels to try, and some mornings before class she would even try doing my hair. Ridiculous, I know. But what can I say? I wanted the damn girl and would have licked her damn shoes if it made her happy. That was the old me. The very whipped me. And the saddest part of all? I didn’t score with her at all. Fingered her a few times, fooled around, and had hot-as-hell make-out sessions, but never fucked her.
Maybe that’s why I’m still hung up on her. Also, the Sarah I knew wouldn’t be caught dead without a touch of makeup on, let alone leave the house without it. She was the polar opposite of her cousin Madison. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn so much to this new side of Sarah. Not because I had feelings for Madison or anything—I never did. Maddy is like my little sister. Plus, she’s dating my best friend, and she’s loyal as hell. But Madison has this, well, she has this “I don’t care what you think” attitude and does whatever she wants. She doesn’t bother with makeup or styling her hair, unlike a lot of girls. She’s comfy in sweats, t-shirts, and playing video games. She’s straight chill.
I slip into my car and fire up the engine. That must be it. My reason for finding Sarah so intoxicating and refreshing to be around. Because I never hit that and she doesn’t wear makeup. Her sunshine locks are now black cherry. And I can’t stop thinking about her body pressed against me, or how her lips tasted like cotton candy. I wanted to eat her up. But I’m not going to.
Besides, I’m trying to get out of this place. Not stay. I’m certainly not looking forward to when people from my graduating class are on Thanksgiving or Christmas break.
I definitely don’t want to head to my dad’s because he already gives me enough shit. Maybe I’ll stay inside. Nah, that plan sucks too. I’ll go stir-crazy with cabin fever if I’m in this house too long.
As if on cue, Bryce calls me. “Hey, man,” I say.
“Dude. What are you doing?”
“Driving.” Where? Not exactly sure. I thought about visiting Madison’s house and seeing if I can leave a note for Sarah. I also thought about stopping by the local college and putting a note on her car. I also had some very bad ideas like surprising her on campus and walking her to her next class.
Why would I even do this? I don’t know. Told you before this girl is seriously taking over my head. I pushed her away for a reason. Letting Sarah into my life is a mistake, one I will not repeat, can’t repeat. But damn if her kiss and the way her body pressed against mine isn’t all I’m thinking about.
I need to hook up with someone. Anyone. Just to get my mind off of her.
***
With college in session and my preference to not chase after seniors in high school, my choices in this piece-of-crap place are rather limited. A trip to Nashville would help, but the problem with that is I don’t want to be that lone loser who goes to a club by himself. It’s a dead giveaway of what you’re really doing there. And two, you look completely desperate for a hookup.
So I ask this dude Justin from my meetings to come with. He’s all for it. But halfway down to Nashville, I’m regretting my decision. He talks continuously. He doesn’t do this shit in the meetings, I swear. He’s always giving short responses to anything asked. I thought he was going to be like my buddy Bryce, laid-back, chilled, and talking about cool shit. No. This guy is talking about his sister’s tool of a husband and how much he wants to punch him in the face. But then he gets crazier and says he hopes his ass gets abducted by aliens and they anal probe him. Um. What?
I want to drop him off at the nearest gas station, but there’s no one else to ask to replace him. Ugh. So, I deal with it. I’ll ignore him. Do what I need to do and hopefully his looney ass will get someone to keep him busy too.
When we walk into Club 403, I start to stalk over to the bar. Justin grabs my upper arm and says loudly, “What are you doing? We’re not supposed to drink!”
I pull my arm away from his clutch. “Calm down. I’m getting a club soda. Want one?”
“Uh … ”
“Yes or no, man. I don’t have all night.”
He looks around the darkened room lit by strobe lights. It’s filled with people, and bass-thumping music is pumping through the heated air. “Sure.”
“Cool. Be back in a second. Go find us a table.”
He nods and heads off in the direction of the tables in a corner near the back. I reach the bar and check out the hot blond bartender. She’s rockin’ a brow piercing and a set of gaged earlobes. Yeah, I’m even digging her chin-length hair. She looks like a bad girl.
“Hi.”
“Hey, yourself, handsome. What can I get ya?”
“Two club sodas and your phone number.”
She smiles. “You usually have to buy me a drink for that to happen, baby. And I don’t drink club sodas.”
Yeah, who the fuck would? If I weren’t in this damn program and didn’t have to take a pee test to prove my sobriety tomorrow, I’d be throwing back some shots, not drinking some shitty club soda. “All right. I’ll remember that,” I say.
She winks at me. “Better.”
Oh yeah, I’m going to hook up with this girl tonight.
She sets my drinks down. I drop the money on the counter as well as her tip and then find Justin sitting near the back observing the ceiling. “Hey, man. Here you go.”
“You didn’t add anything to this? Roofies?”
“Uh, no. I’m trying to stay out of jail. I don’t mess with that bullshit. Jesus, Justin. Do you have any friends, man?”
He nods. “Well, does my older sister count?”
“No. I mean like people in no way related to you. Anyone you grew up with? School friends? Anyone?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I had some. When I was in high school. But, um … the people I thought were my friends got me blitzed. They stripped me naked when I passed out. When I came to, they handed me a map and said my clothes were outside, I just needed to follow my way to X. Cops picked me up as I stumbled through the neighbor’s front lawn. I haven’t drank since. I was thrown in these classes since I was underage. My family’s ashamed of me. So, yeah, no friends.”
“Dude. That’s like completely fucked up.”
He nods. “Yup. So what’s your deal? Why did you ask me to come here with you?”
I shrug. “All my friends are off at college, and I’m trying to get this girl out of my head. I plan on hooking up with someone here. I asked you to come along because you seemed like the coolest person in our class.” Not a total lie. Dude obviously needs to get out more.
“I hate those classes. I shouldn’t be there. Before my worst mistake ever, I never touched a drop of alcohol. I went to parties—lots—and saw how stupid people got, so it never appealed to me. But that party was different. Elizabeth Dobbs walked in. I wanted that girl. But any time I went to talk to her I turned into a moron. One of my buddies—well, I thought he was. Anyway, he handed me a cup of alcohol and said it would help me talk to Liz.” He shakes his head. “Fucking judge was a total dickwad! His son lied on the stand and said I was always wasted. That it wasn’t the first time I was streaking through a neighborhood. After my sentence, that prick started dating Elizabeth.”
Fuck. No wonder he doesn’t open up in class. But I’m not about to shed light on the reason I’m in the classes. This night isn’t supposed to be about this depressing crap. It’s supposed to be about hooking up with a random chick and forgetting all about the past. That’s what I need. I chug the nasty club soda and slam the glass on the table. “I’m going to get us laid tonight, Justin. What do you say?”
“Uh … ”
“I’m taking that as a yes. Follow my lead.”
Chapter Eight
Sarah
Michelle gives me a wide smile first thing that evening. We’re both on the night shift tonight. I’m still recovering from the all-nighter I pulled for my biology exam thi
s morning. As I reach the counter, I ask, “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“Oh, your boy was in here yesterday. Holy hell, what a hot complication you have, missy.”
I shake my head. “He’s not mine. He doesn’t even want me. I think you’re confused.”
“Definitely not. He was looking for you.” She nudges me in the ribs. “Why do you think he’s not interested?”
Because he pushed me off of him after we started kissing. Told me to leave. But instead of giving her a replay of my rejection the other night, I just sigh. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, huh?”
“Yeah. So how was your date with that, um, one guy?”
She frowns. “He didn’t show.”
“Oh. That sucks.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. Whatever. That’s what I get for doing the online dating crap. I swear this shit shouldn’t be so difficult. You see a person. You feel a connection. You go on a date. And it either leads to more, or it doesn’t. None of this, ‘Well, what religion are you?’ crap. Or, ‘You have a kid? How old?’ And, ‘Oh … well, what about his father? Is he going to hunt me down? Your kid isn’t going to call me Dad, is he?’ What kind of batshit crazy nonsense is that? I swear I should give up on men entirely.”
I smile. “You’ll get it right. Some day. We both will. But for now I totally feel you on giving up on them.”
“All the decent ones are gone by the time you hit my age. Plenty of fish in the sea my ass. You know what kind of fish are left in my sea? Fat men with thinning hair who have no idea what a belt is used for. And if they do, they don’t use them right because I’m getting flashed butt crack at least ten times a day. Then you have the ones who have failed at life. Not that I’m doing much better working here, but at least I’m making close to twenty an hour. These fools don’t have jobs, still live with their moms, and are looking for a replacement. Um. No. I have my own child to raise, thank you.”
Graham (Scandalous Boys Book 2) Page 4
