No Easy Choices (A New Adult Romance)

by Cade, Trista

  “Oh wow,” Harper sighed, letting go of an appreciative breath. “Would you just look at that?”

  “Yeah, I’m seeing it,” I whispered back, running the back of my hand across my lips just in case I was actually drooling.

  “There you go, he is now safe in the car again. It is all right?” he asked with a smile. I stared like an idiot, but thankfully, Harper’s Southern upbringing kicked in. She beamed and held out a hand to him.

  “Thank you so much for helping us. I’m Harper, and this is Andrea,” she gushed, gesturing at me with a wave.

  “It’s Andie,” I said quietly, still taking it all in.

  “I am Javier. I am finishing work in the library.” He indicated the looming old building with a jerk of his head, a movement so fluid that a clump of soft curls fell into his eyes. He moved them out of his vision by raking a hand through his mane, pushing the other hand deep in his front pocket in what looked so wonderfully like a nervous motion. “And you? You will be able to put him in his home?”

  Harper and I looked at each other. The accent was stunning. The grammar? A little hard to understand. I kind of wanted Javier to just keep standing there looking awesome, but following his broken English was a little tough.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Harper asked, a little too loudly. Javier just smiled, probably used to the old talk-louder-so-they-can-understand-you habit a lot of Americans have.

  “I mean,” he began, pointing at the embarrassing button still stuck to my chest, “you have to take him home. How will you place him inside?”

  “Oh, I get it,” I said with a small laugh. “He’s asking how we’re going to get this guy in the house once we take him home.” Javier nodded his approval of my exceptional translation skills.

  “I can follow you in my car, too,” Javier offered. “I will put him in his home.”

  “That is so sweet of you,” Harper said with a small frown, “but we’ve got it. Thanks for all your help!” She walked around the side of my car and climbed back into the back seat, waving goodbye to Javier and jerking her head at me to get in and drive.

  “Harper,” I hissed through my plastered-on smile, “Javier is offering to carry this guy up the stairs and put him in his room. I, for one, think we should be polite and let the nice man help us.”

  “And I, for one, think we should get going before someone at the party misses us.” The murderous look on her face was hard to miss. Ignoring her attempts at telepathy, I turned back to Javier.

  “If you’re not too busy, I would appreciate your help. Very much. Just follow us, okay?” I shot him another smile and got behind the wheel of my car. No sooner had my butt hit the seat than Harper kicked the back of it, trying to get me to look back at her in the mirror. No can do, sweetie. I’m not looking.

  “Andrea, what do you think you’re doing?” Harper barked as soon as I pulled away from the curb and turned onto the main road. “I saw the way you looked at him, and let me tell you something. Hah-vee-air is not our kind of people.”

  “What is THAT supposed to mean?” I fired back. “You mean, because he’s god-like and ripped and kind enough to carry this dipshit idiot into his fraternity house?”

  “Well, of course not!” She blew out an exasperated breath and flopped back against the seat, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out at the trees dotting the long driveway to the Sigma Zeta house.

  “Oh, please don’t tell me you mean because he’s obviously not from here. I can’t believe you would classify someone based on his nationality. Wake up and join the 21st century, Harper!” I practically yelled, angry at her snottiness and at the realization that racism was alive and well.

  “That is NOT what I meant, Andrea! I meant...”

  “What? Huh? Go ahead and tell me, what did you mean when you said he’s not our kind?”

  “I meant...he works in the library!”

  Chapter Four

  It took all my strength to keep from laughing at Harper, that is, until I switched off the engine and turned to step out of my car, only to find myself at eye-level with Javier’s crotch.

  “Gaaah!” I yelled, more from the surprise of seeing someone standing that close to my door than from the embarrassing way I was caught staring at a guy’s bulging zipper. I was ready to curl up in a shriveled ball and crawl under the front seat when Javier opened my door and held out his hand to help me out. Against my instincts and the angry glare from the snob in the back seat, I took his hand, surprised at how warm and firm his fingers were as they fitted themselves around my own. He practically lifted me from my car, then reached back to help Harper out as well.

  While we stood on the sidewalk in near-awe, Javier plucked the unknown party boy from the front seat and fireman-carried him into the Sigma Zeta house. Luckily, the rest of the brothers hadn’t made it back from the party, so the place was deserted.

  “Where does he belong?” Javier asked in that yummy accent, swinging his burden down on the porch.

  “This looks like as good a spot as any,” I suggested, pointing at the porch swing.

  “Andrea, we can’t leave him on the porch. We have to take him inside,” Harper said huffily. She got the front door open and Javier dragged the limp, passed out brother inside where he settled him on one of the leather sofas in the front room. He paused, then jogged into the adjacent kitchen and came back with a mop bucket, which he placed on the floor near the blond guy’s head. Javier was almost ready to leave, but came back one more time and shifted the drunk on the couch so that he laid more on his side and stomach. Javier gave us a wan smile, gesturing with his hands that it was in case the brother threw up again.

  “Not our kind, huh?” I quietly hissed at Harper as we followed Javier down the brick steps of the house and out onto the sidewalk. “I believe this stranger just went out of his way to follow us here and make sure we were safe, and then went to the trouble to drag this body in here and keep him from choking on his own puke. I’d say that makes this guy pretty incredible, don’t you?”

  Harper just snorted at me, then tossed her long curls over her shoulder and sauntered back out to my car. Javier appeared next to me, watching my sorority sister with a confused expression.

  “She is unhappy? Because that is her boyfriend?” he asked, pointing back towards the fraternity house and its unconscious tenant.

  “No, that’s just some guy we had to drive home from the party. She’s just...being Harper, I guess.” There was no way to explain away her rude behavior, because either I was right and she was a racist or she was right and she was still a party-school elitist. There wasn’t really a great sugar-coated explanation for either of those. And let’s face it, I wasn’t too sure of how much he would understand. I smiled weakly and shrugged.

  “You are beautiful,” Javier said with a calm expression.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked, shocked at what I thought I heard. Maybe he doesn’t understand the term. Maybe “beautiful” in his country is actually a word that means pathetically plain-looking and wearing a stupid-assed frilly blouse covered in spilled alcohol.

  “I said that you are beautiful. I would like to go eat dinner with you.”

  This was too surreal. I looked around awkwardly, not sure what to say next, when Harper slammed her hand on the horn of my car and held it there, disgust oozing from her very soul. I jumped at the sound and glared at her, practically baring my teeth in rage. That one act of aggression set in motion my own act...of rebellion.

  “Yes, Javier, I would love to go eat dinner with you.” I held out my hand for his phone—the one that was at that very moment pressed so tightly against the fabric of his jeans by an impossibly solid leg muscle that I swear I could see read the logo on it through his pants—and used it to call my own number, hearing it ring from my purse in the front seat.

  I turned to bid our hero goodnight when a movement in the doorway of the fraternity house caught my eye. “Oh no,” I moaned. Our precious cargo must have woken up from t
he noise of a car horn out front, because he stumbled through the doorway and across the porch, pausing at the top of the steps just long enough for us to realize he was going to descend on his face.

  Even Harper managed to rouse herself, and all three of us ran to retrieve the party boy from where he’d landed next to the landscaped shrubbery. Javier pulled him by one shoulder, even as Harper swatted at him and told him we’d take over from here. I grabbed him underneath the arm and stood him up just in time for him to hurl one last time, spraying my shirt with vomit.

  Oh great...used alcohol.

  Chapter Five

  “Andrea, we have to have a talk,” Kennedy said in fake syrupy-sweet voice. Her tone and expression let me know that this wasn’t going to be a discussion either one of us wanted to have.

  “It’s Andie,” I said, closing my art history book and sitting up straighter on my bed. “What’s up?”

  “It’s about a boy. I heard through the grapevine that you met someone after the party last night, and that you made plans to go out with him.”

  “Wow, that’s so weird. I don’t remember seeing any grapevines growing in that area. You know, I do kinda remember seeing Harper, though. Could that be who you heard it from?” I had made a perfect score in sarcasm on the ACTs and felt like flaunting my mad skills, especially since Harper had no business telling anyone about my date.

  I thought Harper and I had come to some kind of understanding about the situation after we drove off. We took the long route back to the party to get her car, swinging into a drive-thru for milkshakes since I couldn’t very well go inside covered in someone’s throw up. We slurped them down while we talked it out.

  Harper wholeheartedly agreed that Javier was the tastiest-looking specimen either of us had seen in a long time, all while still arguing that Theta sisters—or sorority sisters of any brand, for that matter—didn’t date exchange students who worked in the library. I was still laughing over the disgust in her voice when she had to bring herself to say that word—library—as though she was physically choking on it. Eventually, we agreed that judging people is wrong. Or at least, I thought we did.

  But now, Kennedy sat perched on the edge of my bed with her hands folded in her lap, peering at me like she had to impart some sage wisdom that I had failed to learn during my sheltered upbringing.

  “Andrea, there are just certain types of men that Theta sisters date, and certain types that we don’t. More importantly, we don’t accept dinner invitations from strange men on the side of the road who were last seen dragging a drunk person home from a party.”

  “Uh, hello? I was the one dragging the drunk person home from a party, and I was only doing that because Theta rules state that under-aged sisters have to serve as sober drivers. Javier wouldn’t have even been there if the person I was required to put in my vehicle hadn’t fallen out of it while trying to throw up.” It took all of my strength not to get angry, but I was determined to not start off my first year with this group of girls by being bullied into submission and falling for their outdated stereotypes.

  “Don’t get mad,” Kennedy said, her tone softening. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You know, there are a lot of people on campus who don’t exactly like the Greeks and what we stand for. It’s hard to believe, I know, but there are some people who even laugh at us. If you date someone outside of our circle, you could end up being ridiculed by his friends. What kind of relationship can you have with someone if his own friends make fun of you?”

  “Well, hopefully I would never date someone who would let his friends treat me like that,” I replied, but even my own resolve wasn’t holding up in the face of that argument. I was fully prepared to do battle with the outdated notion that we had to stick to our own kind, but I hadn’t expected her point-of-view. And I cringed because I’d seen it myself in high school the few times that people dated outside their “assigned” cliques.

  “Of course not. But this is exactly why we have a committee to oversee who we date. You did remember that all dates have to be approved, right?” She blinked her eyes widely at me.

  “What are you talking about?” I shot back. “That’s sick! I’m not standing in front of a committee with my guy all dressed up for inspection like a horse auction!”

  “It’s not like that, Andrea...” she began, but I cut her off.

  “It’s ANDIE. My name is ANDIE.” I flounced back against my pillows so hard that the headboard thudded into the wall, knocking one of my photographs from home to the floor. I glanced over the side of my bed and saw that it was the small framed photo of me with my two best friends. Now those were some girls who knew how to be supportive and happy for you, but best of all, who weren’t judgmental.

  “Fine, Andie,” Kennedy continued through clenched teeth. “And that’s not what the committee does. They just decide if your date is approved to attend our functions. We’ve had problems in the past with sisters bringing any old random guy to a formal and having an incident occur when some of the other dates didn’t get along with him. It has even turned violent in the past. So the Escort Committee determines if your choice of a date is allowed to attend.”

  “Well, if the ‘Escort Committee’,” I said, using my fingers to make air quotes around the term, “ever decides that any date I invite isn’t approved, I won’t be attending the event, either.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re required to attend. If your date isn’t approved, you’re welcome to go alone or ask a sister to find someone come with you as your escort.” Kennedy looked away for a second, but not before I saw the look. THAT look. The one that let me know that not only had Kennedy had a guy not meet the committee’s approval once, but that it hadn’t turned out well as a result.

  And could anyone blame him? “Uh, hey “Guy That I Really Like And Have Been Dating For A While”, I really would love for you to come with me to the Diamond Ball, but my power-hungry sorority sisters don’t think you’re good enough to hang out with us. Sorry! But we can still go grab a burger after I get home from the party.” Like that would ever be okay.

  “Well, I don’t care about approval from any committees. I’ve been invited to dinner by a very nice person who was very helpful in a terrible situation. And I’m going.” I picked up my book and flipped back to the section I had been studying, effectively telling Kennedy we were through talking about this. It was all an act, though. What had I gotten myself wrapped up in?

  Had I really come halfway across the country and thrown myself in with a group of people who seriously have an official boyfriend-approval-process? And for what? A car that I now get to haul alcoholic spewers home from parties in? The answer was a big, fat, non-judgmental no.

  Chapter Six

  “Hi, Javier,” I said breathlessly, easing myself out through the crack in the door and pulling it firmly shut behind me. I had raced down the stairs at the sound of the doorbell, just in case any of the sisters decided to answer it first. Word had spread through the Theta house that I had a date with an “undesirable,” however delicious he might be, and the house was evenly divided. One camp was on my side, and was made up of some sisters who were probably pretty more than a little tired of a few of the house rules. The other side was more than a little tired of uppity foreigners like me—people from out of state, that is—coming in and blowing up the time honored traditions that made Theta one of the oldest houses on campus.

  “Hello, Andie,” he replied, melting me with that voice. “Should we go inside the home?”

  “Oh, no. There aren’t too many people around,” I answered in my most non-committed, no-big-deal voice. I started to walk down the front steps, ignoring the faces in the windows that I could feel burning holes through my back. Javier looked at the house’s occupants and waved weakly before joining me out front.

  “We will walk, okay?” he began. “It is not far to eat.”

  “Sure! That’s great. Or we can go in my car, if you want.”

  “The walk is good for us,”
he smiled. It hadn’t crossed my mind that Javier may not have a ton of extra money for gas, since he was far from home and worked on the campus. I kicked myself for not suggesting that I pick us up when he called me to settle on a time, but I didn’t want to make him feel bad. Good thing I’m a flip-flops kind of girl and not wearing the heels that Kennedy had tried to loan me.

  That had been a whole weird situation. I could be completely misreading her intentions, but I really got the impression that she felt bad about the whole approved-boyfriend-material conversation. She gave me free reign in her closet and even offered to put my hair up. I tried to convince her this was just a casual dinner and not a formal event.

  “Honey, there is no such thing as looking ‘casual’ on a date with a boy. It takes me an hour and a half just to get my hair and makeup right to go to the gym. You never know who you will see or what kind of person he will be. True love can happen in the most unlikely place, and a Theta sister has to look her best, on account of you never know.”

  “Oh really? So true love could happen between two strangers who meet while one of those strangers happens to be taking a drunken fraternity boy home and the other stranger is leaving his shift at the library?” She rolled her eyes at me but didn’t say anything, so I knew I had her there.

  Javier and I headed toward the edge of campus and walked around to the main road that wound through the cool part of town. Javier steered us toward a small alley where an outdoor staircase went up the side of an old brick building. I eyed the staircase warily, both because it was rickety-looking and because I had no idea where it led.

  “We are here,” Javier announced, smiling at me as he held out his arm to indicate I would go first. On the one hand, that was probably a good thing, since it would mean someone could cushion my fall if the thing pulled loose from the building. On the other hand, it also meant Javier would have a clear view up the leg of my tiny shorts. It’s impossible to climb an old metal staircase with your legs clenched together, so I had no choice but to press on.